Page 57 of Daughter of the Drowned Empire
I sat up. “Are you serious?”
“After you guiled me into an art history lesson, you still think I have no interests outside of push ups and punching people?”
“No. I…I just never knew anyone else who cared about the debate.”
“Now you do. So tell me.”
Excitement bubbled inside me. “Well, the Valya readsAuriel janam Asherahdia. Auriel knew Asherah’s body. And that comes from the Mar Valya—the first Valya to be found and preserved after the Drowning. Everyone’s used that translation without thought.”
Rhyan sat forward and nodded, his emerald eyes alight. I’d never seen him look so excited. “I know. I’ve read it.”
“Right, of course,” I continued. “Anyway, I viewed the scrolls of the Valya recorded before the Drowning in the Great Library, and I checked the scraps of destroyed Valyas under glass at the Museion. I’ve seen dozens of full copies predating the Drowning housed in the underground levels of the pyramids, including the Tavia Valya—the scroll that had been preserved in a chest and washed ashore a hundred years later. Every Valya recorded before the Drowning includes an M in their scrolls and readsAuriel janam Asherahdiam.”
“But it’s missing in the Mar Valya because of water damage,” Rhyan added.
“Right! In the scrolls I viewed, the translation reads, ‘Auriel knew Asherah as two.’” The High Lumerian for two was diam. Body was dia. I was convinced “two” was the proper translation, but the Mar Valya had become the standard for copying thanks to an edict from some Emperor centuries ago.
Rhyan nodded excitedly. “Yes! And I read the Scholars originally translated janam as ‘recognize.’ So the translation should be, ‘Auriel recognized Asherah as two.’ Two bodies that were one. Mekarim.”
“Soulmates,” I said.
Rhyan’s eyes filled with light. “I haven’t had an academic discussion in….” He shook his head. “Well, it’s been a while.”
Warmth spread through me. I became aware of his every detail. His dark lashes, the strong bridge of his nose, the curve of his lips, the stubble shadowing his jawline. I’d had the biggest crush on him when I was younger despite the fact that he was cruel and aloof. But then we’d danced and we’d kissed, and it had felt like destiny. I’d taken his hand, and we’d swayed in the night, his eyes on mine, his arm around my waist. My desire for him had taken me captive. Sitting here now, I knew that desire had never let me go.
The doors to the violet ray opened.
Rhyan turned, his posture tensing. A muscle in his jaw twitched. His right hand snaked toward the hilt of his sword. My mouth went dry.
An Afeyan of the Star Court walked languidly through the pews. His skin was tinged blue, glowing faintly beneath gold and silver coils tattooed across every inch of his body. He wore only a silver loincloth between his legs. The golden silk cape draped over his shoulder fell in elegant folds to his feet. Diamonds centered the metallic coils and whorls across his body, glittering and sparkling with every step he took. A crown of silver stars lay atop silky black hair braided down to his hips.
He was beautiful in a way I’d never seen. Delicately feminine and strongly masculine at the same time. With every step he took, he sparkled as the diamonds adorning his body caught the light of the eternal flame. It reminded me of my necklace, embellished with diamonds infused with starfire. He held a Valalumir, glittering like a star, in his hand.
Lumerians had auras, invisible energy colored by their feelings, visible if they were using an extreme amount of power or emotion—but their auras were closely tied to their bodies. The Afeyan’s aura was cast out, completely separate from him. The ceiling of the temple, full of paintings, blacked out into an endless sky of twinkling stars.
The Afeyan stood before our row and bowed abruptly. “At your service, Lady Lyriana Batavia, Heir to the Arkasva, High Lord of Bamaria. And to you, Lord Rhyan Hart, Heir Apparent to the Arkasva, High Lord of Glemaria, Imperator to the North.” The Valalumir rolled between his fingers, a golden halo around it, as his eyes moved between us. He tossed the star into his other hand like a ball and burst into laughter. “I am Mercurial, First Messenger of Her Royal Highness, Queen Ishtara of the Star Court, High Lady of the Night Lands. I am at your service. What can I do for you?”
“Nothing,” Rhyan muttered, “as I am not Lord Rhyan Hart.”
“No, not today.” Mercurial shrugged. “It matters not to a First Messenger when over the course of a tiny Lumerian life you are one thing or another. Someone strips you of a title, someone says you broke an oath. Why should someone else’s words change who you are? A man may be a lord one day and bleed when you cut him, and he may become Arkasva the next. He bleeds the same. Change your name, change your face. Your soul remains. You are still you,Lord Rhyan. You do have another name, but you’re not ready to hear it.”
“Forsworn?” Rhyan asked. “Traitor? Murderer? Bastard? I’ve heard them all. And if you run out of names, I’ll supply you with more.”
“Fire, this one has.” Mercurial laughed and held his hands before him. The glittering Valalumir floated between his palms, the golden halo waxing brighter. “But you know not of what the First Messenger speaks.” His voice had taken on a conspiratorial tone, and his eyebrows narrowed. “You do have questions, I see. Both of you. Questions to which you need answers. Answers I have—even answers for questions you’ve not yet asked but will. All one has to do is ask the question. Answers are always available.”
“No, thank you,” I said quickly, suppressing every traitorously tempting thought. I had to remember Morgana and Meera’s warnings, the warnings I’d known my whole life. Still, there was something hypnotic about Mercurial, and I found myself mesmerized by even the tiniest of his movements—a blink, a turn of his head. He knew what I wanted, and he could give it to me. All I had to do was ask. I could go home, enroll in the Mage school, restore my stave….
I can do all those things. All those things and more. It would be so easy. Nothing at all….
His voice. His voice was in my mind. Or was I imagining it? My eyes widened, but he didn’t react, as if nothing had happened.
“Are you sure?” He extended his hand. The Valalumir spun in his palm, glowing brighter and brighter. On second glance, I realized he hadn’t moved at all. I had. I leaned forward still; my chest lifted. I wanted to touch the Valalumir, to feel it, hold it, possess it.
Rhyan touched my arm. His fingers pressed into my tattoo, hitting the scarred skin.
I blinked, coming out of my trance, and Mercurial pulled his hand back, the star rolling across his fingers. It was in the ancient style, like my tattoo and my necklace from Ramia.
“We’re quite all right,” I said, voice dry. “It was a pleasure to meet the First Messenger of Queen Ishtara.”
