Page 143 of The Stolen Throne
I frown because I didn’t hear anything. “What?”
“He said he’d watch over us.”
I didn’t hear that. I glance at Bene, then at Tabra, then down at the only thing that’s changed. “The amulet.” Of course. It makes sense now. “You can hear him because of it.”
I look from Tabra to Bene and wonder if he’s saying anything to me. But it doesn’t matter for what I’m about to do.
“I’m ready.”
Basalt bends his other knee, drawing back his massive leg to reveal a gate on the other side. No…not a gate. It’s a monolith that appears to writhe and flow with movement. What is it covered in?
Tentatively, I take a step forward, then another. The second I’m close enough to comprehend what I’m seeing, I stumble to a stop and try damn hard not to retch.
Eyes.
The monolith is covered in eyes. Naked eyeballs with no lids or lashes, unblinking. They twitch and twirl, aiming this way and that, as though seeing a million different things at once.
“The gateway to the soul is the eyes,” Basalt says like it explains everything.
“Doesn’t make it any less gross,” I mutter to myself.
“Speak up, princess of Aryd.”
I clear my throat. “What do they see?”
At the sound of my raised voice, every eyeball flashes to me. Eyes of different sizes, shades—different species, even. Staring.
I gulp.
“They see the souls still walking Nova. They watch all.”
Ugh. Have these things been watching me, too?
Before I can move, several of the eyes catapult from the monolith, but in the air, they instantly transform into butterflies. Butterflies of a thousand different colors with eyes painted on their wings.
My entire being comes alive at the sight, and I nearly fall to my knees to pray.
Miracle.
The word whispers through my mind. Butterflies were said to have died off a thousand years ago. I’ve never seen one outside of drawings. What starts as a trickle of departing butterflies becomes a cascade, like millions of leaves fluttering up the canyon, blanketing the sky until all I see is the colors.
This must be what it’s like to stand inside a rainbow. I reach out a hand, and one gently lands on my finger before fluttering away with the others.
“Where do they go?” I breathe the question, still reverent.
“To watch the world. Every day to watch.”
“But I’ve never seen one. Not anywhere.”
“No one does. They are not meant to be seen.” He pauses. “Go on, princess.”
The last of the butterflies disappears over the top of the canyon, and the blue skies and harsh sunlight beating down in their wake make me blink. I’ve witnessed something amazing, truly. How can I be expected to simply get on with it?
But I have no choice. The others are waiting. Worrying. Reven has to be losing his mind. Cain, too. I’d feel a whole lot better if Horus was Imperium because the two probably tried to drown and then disappear him when they found out he let us go. Hopefully Vos and Hakan were around.
I want to call out to Reven, reassure him I’m okay, but it’s not dark and there’s nothing to say that won’t make it worse. Besides, I may not be okay soon.
On that cheerful note, I make my way around the edge of the now-eyeless monolith and slowly enter the slot canyon.
