Page 187 of The Blade in the Ashes
I knew what I would see, even without looking at him. I knew that when I lifted my eyes and sought out Caldrius, I would be looking at the next God of Death.
Like Pasnia, Hyrax had no Descendants—since I was a Goddess in my own right. So, his powers would seek out the person they were most familiar with, and after a millennium standing next to Hyrax's side, Caldrius had ensured that person would be him.
It had been his plan all along.
He had been the one to first tell me that a God's power transfers to a new host upon their death.
He had insisted that those without power needed to just claim it.
From the moment he had sketched Isidore’s face on that parchment and given it to Pasnia, Caldrius had never shied away from what he’d been hoping to accomplish.
It had been obvious—even in that damn prophecyfrom so long ago.
The daughter of Hyrax will shake the Veil, and the King of Damnation will rise once more to rule over the children of the Gods. She will create a new death in the Mortal Realm.
And I had.
Hyrax had sacrificed himself for me, and in doing so, a new God of Death had emerged.
I hissed as I worked to pull myself up, grasping onto charred beams of wood as I tried to force my trembling legs to steady enough to support my weight. Blood leaked down cuts that covered nearly every inch of my body, but I paid no mind to any of them.
I focused my attention on him.
Caldrius stood at his full height, grinning as a tendril of shadow danced between his fingertips.
As a God, he seemed larger than before. Taller. Broader. Impossibly more self-assured.
And entirely unaffected by the fact that my father, the God who had loved and supported him for amillennium,lay dead at his feet. By his own hand.
A stray wind tousled his hair, blowing it back from his tanned brow as he lifted his chin and met my gaze.
“Now, we are ready to reshape the Realm, Theadora.”
When I had first started learning mythology, I hadn’t understood why the Gods sequestered themselves in the Upperworld. I didn’t understand why they chose to remain separate from the Mortal Realm even before the Veil completely locked them away.
But in that moment, I finally understood.
Because I knew the rage I was feeling was enough to level this Realm and I didn’t even care.
A scream filled with divine power erupted out of me as I threw out my hands, power lighting through them in beams of sparkling golden light.
My magic slammed into Caldrius’ chest, his eyes widening in the brief moment before he went flying back in the air. His body careened in wild twists.
And then I was rising, my feet extending under me as I lifted into the air, soaring after him.
“Theadora!”
I threw that power out again.
He lifted his own palms, dark shadows spilling out to meet my golden threads and sparking into an explosion that shook the very ground. I fell, slamming down hard just as he rose onto one knee, panting.
“This is entirely unnecessary, darling.”
My blood was sparking, a force that did not belong in this Realm full of Mortals and Descendants that died so easily. I tossed another rope of power at him, and he caught it within a shadowed grip, throwing it aside easily. It slammed down onto the bridge, that stone structure cracking instantly with a loud thunk.
I flinched as the crack spread, climbing into tendrils of destruction until the bridge itself faltered, breaking apart into the river that flowed underneath.
“You cannot kill me, Theadora!” he bellowed. “Not when we are this evenly matched.”
