Page 90 of The Coven of Ruin
A shadowy hand motioned for her to continue.
“I can see memories if I’m touching someone. Sometimes, it can be done unintentionally, but usually, I must be fully focused on it.”
“Now thatisinteresting,” he purred. He stepped toward her, a stalking silhouette. Amethyst eyes affixed to her with an eerie radiance.
“Rise,” he commanded.
She stood slowly, her body’s fatigue not allowing her to move any faster.
“Show me.”
Trista forced herself to meet his gaze even as her lips trembled. “I just want to save her; I barely have magic left to even—”
Wrapping a long finger and a thumb around her wrist, his touch was a winter’s grasp, causing a shiver to creep down her spine. “Show me,” he repeated, his voice threatening and insistent.
With one last glance at Zyana, Trista focused on her magic, but between her exhaustion and the cold creeping through her, it refused.
“Allow me,” he purred. His magic beckoned to hers—a dark swamp filled with lurking things. Everything within her told her to run, but still, it called her by name, enchanting her. “Join with me—I will give you the strength you desire.” His words were seduction. “Use my power as your own.”
For Zyana.
She reached for his other hand, interlocking his long fingers with hers. Triumph gleamed in his gaze before his essence engulfed her.
It took her time to find herself within his magic. Sweeping through her in a freezing riptide of black waves, she was lost again.
Finally, a streak of violet irradiated in the dark, a bright beacon within. Their magic wasn’t compatible, and hers yearned to be released. She focused on it, on the intention ofseeing, with a silent vow that it wouldn’t be long. It wasn’t until he granted her access, though, that she was pulled fully from the depths and into memory.
At first, it was night—endless skies that stretched in every direction without a horizon. A sense of serenity filtered through her.He was happy here.
Then she plummeted, her vision disappearing in rushing black that held disjointed and haunting voices.
Until she was no longer moving.
Two breaths passed before she heard a rustling movement. “She’s dead.” Thel’s voice was thick with emotion.
Her sight returned to her abruptly. She was in a temple full of wide, spiraling columns that disappeared upward and stone that reflected all the colors of twilight. A soft breeze whispered against her skin and caused ripples to form in the pool before her. It reminded her of the contemplation pool in the Mothers’ Temple, except this basin sparkled with the night sky, stars scattered amidst the water. Trista moved toward it, but another voice she recognized stopped her in her tracks.
“We have all lost this day.” Her gaze landed on Zeus as lightning snapped in his eyes. His arms were crossed over himself, and he leaned against one of the columns. What was the King of the Gods doing here?
“You haven’t lost nearly enough.” Thel’s voice seemed near, but she could not find him.
In the present, he released her all at once. The space between them warmed with his absence.
Blinking, she attempted to reground herself.
“Lovely,” Thel breathed. He peered at her curiously, his head tilted. Stars swarmed and gathered in the silhouette of his being and blinked out again.
“You came to make a bargain,” he finally said.
“Yes,” Trista responded as she glanced at Zyana to ensure she still lived. Her chest rose with shallow breaths.
“I can heal you both now.” He stalked closer to her. “But what are you willing to trade for it?”
Her stomach churned as she bit her lip. He didn’t want information about Ares. That alone made her brave enough to ask, “Will you let her go?”
He watched her as he considered her question for a long moment. “I will let youbothleave the Underkeep.”
“Unharmed?” Trista’s heartbeat thundered in both warning and hope. His price would be steep for such an outcome.
