“You cannot.” Reaver knelt at the feet of the fallen draken, his head bowed.
“Why not?” I shouted, anger and disbelief crashing together. My heart was pounding, my breathing heavy.
“Only the Primal of Life can restore life to any being of two worlds.” The finality in his words was a punch in the gut. “They’re gone.”
They’re gone.
I stared at Reaver as those two words cycled, over and over. Only three had landed, joining Reaver. That meant…
A shudder rocked me. Sixteen had been in the air. Sixteen draken who’d just awakened from the gods knew how long to do nothing but die?
My hands opened and closed as I turned in a slow circle. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“This wasn’t your fault,” Kieran argued, standing.
But I’d woken them. I’d brought them here. They’d followed me—
All that you and those who follow will find here is death.
I stood on trembling legs, eyes and throat burning as I saw the cracks in the ground, some thin and others thick enough to trip someone up. The fissures spread across the land like a fragile web and continued along the walls of the manor. The roof had no damage that I could see in the moonlight. It was as if no arcs of light had pierced it.
Slowly, I turned to where Naill and several soldiers stood, staring beyond the collapsed tents. Skin pimpling with another chill, I followed their stares. Beyond the encampment, the pines no longer reached for the stars. The trees and the heavy, needled branches were bent forward, touching the ground. It looked like a massive hand had come down upon them, forcing them to bow. I looked at Kieran.
“I don’t know what caused this.” He dragged a hand down his face. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
“But we’ve felt it,” Naill uttered, his amber eyes bright. “After those bastard Unseen tried to kill you, and Cas had you in that cabin. That happened when you woke up,” he told us, and I remembered seeing the trees outside the cabin. They, too, had been bent to the ground. “The same kind of storm happened when you Ascended to your godhood.”
“This was not a storm,” Reaver said, and I turned to him. “It was an…awakening.”
“Of what?” I asked.
He lifted his head, and his eyes…they weren’t like earlier. They were still a vibrant shade of blue, but the pupils were thin, vertical slits. “Death.”
My entire body jerked as Vessa’s words came back to me. “You,” she’d said. “I wait for you. I wait for death.”
Numbly, I stumbled back to the manor and started walking. My pace picked up. The dressing robe streamed out from behind me as I ran.
“Poppy!” Kieran shouted.
I flew through the door into the manor, racing toward the Great Hall—to the chambers two doors away.
Kieran caught up to me. “What are you doing?”
“Her.” My steps slowed as we passed the dark room. Behind us, I knew Naill and others followed. “Vessa.”
Reaching the door, I grabbed the handle. Like with the chains at the gates of Massene, I melted the locks. The handle turned, and the door swung open, letting the potent stench of stale lilacs slam into me.
I rocked to a halt, inhaling sharply.
Reddish-black smoke filled the chamber, swirling around the robed figure of Vessa—the same kind of shadowy smoke that had drifted from the ruby-adorned box Isbeth had sent.
“What the fuck?” Kieran threw out his arm, blocking me.
Vessa’s milky-white eyes were wide as she stared at a scorch mark on the ceiling, her arms spread. She stood in the center of a circle drawn not of ash but blood—hers. It dripped from her mangled wrists. Through the churning, thick tendrils of smoke, I saw a sharpened chunk of rock lying near her bare feet.
A thick, oily feeling seeped through my skin, and the eather in my chest pulsed. In the hall, I heard low snarls of warning from the wolven.
“You,” I breathed, the essence colliding with the building anger. Energy flooded my veins. “You did this.”
Her laughter joined the cyclone of smoke.
The corners of my vision turned silvery-white as I brushed Kieran’s arm aside and stepped into the room.
“Careful,” Kieran warned, his hand fisting in the back of my dressing gown as the pulsing smoke whipped past my face, blowing strands of my hair back. “This is some bad shit.”
“Magic,” Perry rasped from behind us. “This is Primal magic.”
“Harbinger,” she cooed, her frail body shaking as the reddish-black smoke whirled. “You were told when you entered this manor, Queen with a crown of gold, that all that you and those who follow will find here is death.” The reddish-black smoke spun faster, spreading. “You will not harness the fire of the gods. You will win no war.”
My breath scorched my lungs and throat as realization swept through me. “Isbeth,” I hissed, chin lowering as the essence sparked from my splayed fingers. I didn’t know how she was able to do this, but I knew why. “You did this for her.”