Page 201 of Lady of the Drowned Empire
“But you protected me,” I said dumbly.
“Not when you fucking lashed her,” Rhyan roared.
“Hart,” Aemon snapped. “I’m sick of both your internal and external outbursts. You never let that little incident go—reminding me ad nauseum in every single meeting. And yes, I know you were suspicious of me from your first akadim kill. Congratulations—your suspicions were correct. Now enough. I’m well aware of how you feel. Believe me. I’ve been aware for a millennium. So, for once, in one of your Godsdamned lives, shut up.”
I eyed Aemon carefully. “Internal?” And I understood. “By the Gods.” I shook my head. “Aemon, you’re…you’re vorakh?” You knew? You knew about Meera? And Morgana? Rhyan? All this time you knew? And never said anything?
Aemon nodded. “How often your mind conceived of me having two faces. One of Aemon. One of the Ready. A God of Death. I suppose that’s fitting for Moriel. But you never truly understood or saw. I always wore the same face. Only sometimes I was in too much pain, too overloaded by the voices to contain myself any longer. And a warlord cannot simply drink and smoke himself to oblivion every day. But never once, did you put two and two together."
“But you—” I shook my head, torn between my anger, and sympathy for him. I understood. I’d seen the pain it caused Morgana. I didn’t understand how he could be doing this. “Aemon, you were on our side. All these years, defending us, you knew, and you were keeping our secrets.” Some part of me was desperate, grasping onto anything I could conjure up, holding onto hope that he wasn’t my enemy. That I hadn’t been betrayed again. That we could all walk out of this alive.
“No, Lady Lyriana,” he said slowly, his aura striking with such a force I leaned back. “I was never on your side. You assumed I was. You assumed because I hate the Imperator that I was on your side.” He rose from his throne, towering over me. “You assumed because I supported your father over Arianna in Tarek’s rebellion, I was on your side.” He shook his head, the gesture stern, like that of a disappointed teacher. Or a warlord. “You need to learn. Your enemy’s enemy is not your friend, nor your ally. Just another enemy. Everyone who is not behind your cause is against you.” He unsheathed his sword. “I’ve never cared for one second who ruled in Bamaria. I could just as easily have sat Arianna on the Seat all those years ago, placed the golden laurel on her head, let Tarek live.” He stepped forward. “It was never about your father or your mother’s final wishes. Nor was it ever a matter of seating the true heir. I did what I thought was going to keep me closest to you, Asherah. I was ready to fight and kill and do whatever I had to do until the day you revealed yourself powerless. Until the day you confirmed to all who suspected exactly what you were. I’ve waited years for this. Lifetimes, all for this moment. Everything I’ve done, every choice I’ve made, was never in support of you. But simply to be near you.”
“Including lashing me?”
His eyes darkened, and then he carefully sat back on the throne, the black obsidian glowing with red firelight. “You had that coming ages ago. So when the opportunity came, I couldn’t resist. But remember well, I never struck you on my own.”
“I guess that makes it okay then,” I shouted. But then I shook my head. My vision blurring. “Why?”
“For this.” He gestured at the Valalumir shard.
It was glowing even brighter than before. But there was something strange about it. The color was beginning to reveal itself. And to my horror, it was not red. Not even close.
The shard was glowing indigo.
The room shook again. And this time, golden Valalumir stars fell from the ceiling, sparkling and glowing.
“Enough!” Aemon said, his voice full of the violence and darkness that consumed him when he was the Ready. A God of Death.
Moriel.
“That shard is mine. Moriel was the Guardian of the indigo. Not Asherah.”
The akadim who imprisoned me inched closer, as if sensing I was preparing to escape. I had no idea what I was doing—only that I’d be damned before I gave the crystal to him willingly.
The beasts on my sides squinted, clearly pained by the shard’s light. Slowly, I got to my feet, and stepped forward, my heart racing. “If your whole plan was about getting this, then why haven’t you taken it yet?”
His eyes flicked beyond me. “That would be Auriel’s fault. He made it so I could never again take it with my own hands. No one could. Not from its final resting place. Not from anyone without Asherah’s blood. And her blood was supposed to die with her. The Valalumir was meant to be lost in shards for eternity. But Auriel was deceived. He hadn’t counted on the immortal Mercurial. Hadn’t foreseen the Afeya finding the chest plate, and preserving it. But the magic has held up so well, even Auriel reborn could not remove the shard. Only you, Asherah.”
“And you can’t take it. I have to give it to you willingly,” I said.
“If you want your sisters to live, you will do so.”
I closed my eyes. I didn’t know what to do.
“Do as I ask,” he said, reading my thoughts.
“And if I don’t?” I seethed.
“Meera goes first.” He snapped a finger, and the akadim at her pole, tugged on the ropes, lifting her body, her head rolling.
“Lyr!” Rhyan yelled. “Don’t.”
Thunder crackled in the Seating Room, every light blinking out as the smoke and shadows of a powerful aura nearly suffocated me. The akadim at my sides released me. Everyone in the room seemed to lose consciousness at once. I was alone, the only one untouched. Even Aemon was silent. His head had fallen forward, but his fingers were twitching as if fighting back against this.
Then, through the darkness, Morgana approached. Valalumir stars fell from the ceiling, and an angry, feline roar echoed across the walls.
I stopped thinking. I ran for Morgana, throwing my arms around her and bursting into tears.
