Page 118 of The Lost Reliquary
As minutes tick by, each more impatient than the last, the statue at the center of the shrine tugs at my attention. It’s only stone, anddefaced rudely, but the blank stare of that holy visage still manages to stir up memories.
Of Tempestra-Innara, looming above, gaze piercing into the depths of me.
Of divine blood dripping over my lips, its searing warmth trickling down my chin.
Of a deity watching on as I fight, kill, fight, all in their name.
“Lys?”
I know the voice before I turn, the figure before I take in its lines, the cloak wrapping it not fooling me this time. Avery pulls back the hood, letting the little moonlight that reaches into the shrine wash over him.
“I’m in,” I say, before he can speak. Before anything else can poison my resolve. “But I have to gonow. Caius is waiting nearby in his ship. Tomorrow, Nolan will go to him when he finds me gone, tell him everything about the reliquary.”
A smile twitches onto Avery’s lips, as if he knew that my full defection was never in doubt. That it was an inevitability.
And maybe it was.
“Thank you.” I’ve never heard more true gratitude in those words. “I always believed you would help us.”
Something twists in my gut. “I’m helping myself. Not you, not Rion, not whatever mad scheme he has to reshape the world or whatever. Getting rid of Tempestra-Innara is, above all else,for me.”
“Even a selfish choice can serve the greater good.”
Good.I swallow a snicker. Do any of us deserve that distinction, after everything that’s happened? “When this is done—ifit gets done—I’m gone after. Forever. No one comes after me, or tries to sell me on any new faiths, got it?”
Avery nods, more solemn now. “No debts, Lys. Not to us.”
No debts to pay. No chains to keep me down. No ties at all. The night air is nowhere near as refreshing as the simple thought of it. “I’m sorry about your friend, at the shrine. The Caerula… we didn’t know.”
Avery’s hopefulness diminishes a little. “It should have been me. But Osiron… they were so sure you’d agree to help us…” He swallows. “If you did—whenyou did, they wanted me close, knew you wouldn’t trust anyone else to deliver the reliquary.” A moment passes. “The shipis waiting.Splendid Rumor, east end of the docks. As soon as you’re on board, they’ll cast off.”
“Splendid Rumor, got it.” The ache to be gone from Cyprene is suddenly so deep, it’s as if I’ve been stabbed again. “Fair warning, when Caius returns, things are going to get messy here.”
Something like sorrow touches his eyes. “We never expected to win this battle without losses. But now the tide has truly turned.”
“Let’s not plan the victory party yet. But… maybe.”
Avery stares at me as if I am salvation made flesh. Like I am a deity and he is my devoted. Which is something I’ve had more than enough of tonight. “Do you have it?”
He reaches into his coat and draws out a wooden box—an unremarkable thing, unadorned, boring. Until he opens it. Inside, on a bed of silk, lies the reliquary. The emeralds and silver catch what little light there is, the crystal taking on an otherworldly glow that attests to its divinity. But I’ve fallen for that before. The bottle lights up as I remove it from its casket and pull the stopper.
Blood sings, a song both divine and damned.
I close it up again.
“Can’t wait to find out what it tastes like.” I slip the box into my jacket. “Time to go.”
Avery nods. “Thank you again, Lys.”
“Thank me when Tempestra-Innara is dead. But from a distance.” I start toward the shrine entrance, then stop and turn instead toward the far wall, loosening a brick there. Behind it is the Renderers’ remaining blood tinctures and balms, stashed away safely since Marzela’s threats. I add the Renderers’ book and Jogue’s diary, hand the lot to Avery. “These might come in handy… one way or another.”
He examines the contents and nods, understanding.
“And tell Rion… tell him… I don’t know. That I felt like I should say something but ran out of cleverness. Or just a farewell. Frankly, whether I end up dead or free, I’ll be happy if I never come across any of you ever again. Do me a favor and sort things out so that’s what happens, okay?”
Avery smiles again. “We will do our best. If you promise to survive. And then, to live.”
No. I won’t promise something I can’t hold to. “I’ll do my best too.” Without another word, I plunge back into the streets. Avery does the same, in the opposite direction. One hand in my pocket, my fingers grip the reliquary box so tightly they go numb, a sensation that spreads through the rest of me. Everything narrows, tightens around me like a shroud. By the time I get close to the docks, dawn is teasing its arrival. There are more stirrings of humanity, the smell of morning fires being lit in stoves, the occasional crow of a rooster. On a city bridge, I pause, the harbor barely visible below through the early-morning fog. I can see movement, sailors on rigging, cargo being loaded and unloaded. There, theSplendid Rumorwaits for me, its traitorous assassin, and my most precious of cargo.
