Page 82 of The Stolen Throne
With every new symbol on the page, my eyes grow wider. I need to show this to Reven. Using a spare bit of parchment to mark my spot, I close the book and tuck it against my chest.
Bene following, I run out of the room and down the stairs. We find the others all gathered in what’s left of the rectangular ground-level meeting room where I first met most of Reven’s leaders. My friends now. The thatched roof is ash, and an entire wall was knocked down, but the fireplace works, and the large wooden table, big enough to seat all of us, is still usable. They’ve already started eating.
Bene leaps over the downed wall and skids into the room ahead of me, and I’m thinking that a large Devourer suddenly bursting into the room, especially when we’re all on edge, isn’t a good idea, but it’s too late to stop him. I reach the door in time to see everyone except Pella and Hakan are up, ready to fight.
“Blast it, Bene,” Cain mutters as they all relax and put their weapons away. “Don’t do that.” At Pella’s chortle, Cain shoots her a glare. “It’s not funny. Why weren’t you on your feet, too? That”—he points at Bene—“is a threat.”
She shrugs. “I could see him coming.”
And didn’t warn her brother. Priceless. If I wasn’t so eager to share what I have, and if it wasn’t Pella, I’d laugh. Behind her, from where he stands to eat rather than being seated, Hakan’s lips twitch. Everyone resumes their seats with a grumble, returning to their food, and Bene moves out of my way.
“Get some food,” Horus urges, picking up a wooden bowl to hold out to me.
Tziah is the only one who pauses, bite halfway to her mouth, to stare at me. She taps her hand over her heart, and I know she’s asking if I’m all right.
I put the book down on the table between Reven and Horus and flip it open. “I found something.”
I try not to hop from foot to foot as Reven reads it. After what feels like forever, he raises his gaze to me, and I see the same riot of reaction I’m tamping down.
“It’s true,” he says, those two words heavy.
“True?” Cain asks. “What’s true?”
“It doesn’t say why your ancestresses trapped them, though,” Reven murmurs for me alone.
How did he know that’s what has me strung as taut as a bowstring? I can’t help but wonder why the previous queens of Aryd did it. What humans, even two Imperium, would dare go up against not just one goddess but all six? What could have been so terrible that they’d take that risk in the first place?
I don’t stop myself for once, leaning over to put my forehead to his. I immediately realize what I’ve done, and I would pull away, except, for a stomach-dropping second, he leans into me and softens. Then, just as fast, he stiffens and pulls back. I should have known better, but my ridiculous heart can’t help itself.
The others pass the book around, tension thick in their voices as they murmur and point things out.
“Listen to this,” Vos says to the room in general. “The six pieces of glass holding each of the six goddesses were given to the rulers of the dominions, each rightful goddess to her rightful sovereign.”
I jump as Reven suddenly shoves to his feet.
“Seven hells!” He looks straight at me. “We were right. This is why Eidolon has been stealing the soul Enfernae from your line.”
36
Leads to More
Problems
I wait for him to elaborate, but he just watches me expectantly.
Okay. Well, before our fight with Eidolon what seems like eons ago, we’d already guessed that the king is waiting for a certain soul-related ability to manifest, which is why he allows the twin to take the throne after he kills the sister rather than kill them both and end the rule of my line. Powers are inherited, passed generation to generation by blood, each a little different than the last but still the same general type. If Eidolon needs a specific power—
Realization dawns with a horrific sort of calm, and I meet his eyes, seeing it reflected there. This has to be what the ghostly Eidolon didn’t tell me.
This is Tabra’s power.
“If your soul Enfernae ancestor was powerful enough to trap the goddesses’ souls, Eidolon must believe that one of her bloodline, one who manifests that same specific type of soul ability, will be able to release the goddesses.”
He’s right. Goddess above, he’s right. None of the queens he killed must’ve had the right version of soul manipulation. Is that why Eidolon killed them? I squeeze my eyes shut. The answer is as clear as a cloudless, windless day in the salt flats.
I open my eyes on a breath. “So we were right. That’s why he never killed the remaining twin. Letting us breed is his best hope for the right version of a soul Enfernae to show up eventually.”
“Fuck,” Reven mutters, running a hand through his hair, leaving it standing in ragged spikes.
