Page 4 of Cursed By the Dawn

“I can feel Raelion in me, even now. He’s wondering what the Weavers’ bones would feel like in his jaws.” Blood trickled from Gabriel’s lips, reddening his teeth, but he continued, eyes wide and frantic. “And he hungers for Erebus more than anything. Our prince of shadows—and the Weavers—must be kept from Raelion at all costs. Even if it means locking them away.”

Mithras felt sick. Erebus had lived at Evernight for years now. He’d become the brother Mithras never had. “But why Erebus?”

“His unique abilities are far more exceptional than he realizes. Thananyonerealizes or can understand, for that matter. The poor boy is the only one who can protect the souls of those Corrupted by demons. If he does not shelter them, they will feed Raelion’s army. It is foretold.” Gabriel’s voice dulled to a haunting cadence. “Erebus will be alone with those broken souls for a regrettably long time,” he continued somberly. “It will change him irreparably. But Theia has seen a girl whose shadows sing to his. At the end of the five hundred years, there will be hope.”

Gabriel slowly eased the sword from his stomach. The blade was still wet with blood, but the wound itself had stilled—no longer gushing, just open and waiting. As the metal slid free, the skin stirred, pulling itself back together inch by inch. Like clay being smoothed by a sculptor’s hands.

The king’s bargain with Raelion had saved him.

“Quickly, now. The tombs. I’m healing, but walking is difficult.”

Mithras obeyed, half dragging and half carrying his father to the tomb’s entrance.

“The Weavers might be sleeping, Father. Let me wake them. They can help—”

“They will not,” Gabriel interrupted, hands glowing brightly as if lit from within by some unholy power. “I’m destroying the entrance.”

Mithras’s stomach dropped. “What?”

“You need to run, Mithras. Go now, before Raelion returns and I can’t control myself any longer.”

“The Weavers are still down there,” Mithras insisted, incredulous. “They’ll be trapped.”

“Isolating them in immortal sleep is the only way to ensure their physical safety for the next five centuries.”

Mithras shook his head. “They’ll be furious.”

“Perhaps they will be angry. Perhaps they will rage. But at least they will be safe. When Raelion returns in full once the term of his bargain expires, theymustbe ready. Not dead or dying, but strong. United.” He smiled sadly. “Theia’s vision is true, Mithras. Seeing you today has only confirmed this fact. It has to be done.”

“Theia isn’t the Maker,” Mithras bit out. “She cannot know everything with certainty.” He added in desperation, “And you’re theking. You’ll be crushed by stone if you destroy the entrance—surely beyond what Raelion can knit back together.”

“You will say I died in my sleep. You will fill a coffin with sacks of grain and bury me like you would any other.”

Mithras was crying now. He could not stop it. “You deserve to be honored in your death.”

“Honored? Oh, my son. I deserve no such thing.” Gabriel gripped Mithras’s hands. Shakily, he kissed them. “You will be a more honorable ruler than I,” his father continued gently. “And so will your children. And your children’s children. And in time, the world can begin anew.” Gabriel was weeping now, too, tears streaming into his beard. “The duty to bear will fall heavy upon your shoulders. You are the one who must light the torch that will span centuries.”

The ground tilted beneath Mithras’s feet. He recognized the tone in his father’s voice.

Guilt.

“Father, what will happen to Raelion after you die?”

A powerful burst of demonic energy crashed into Mithras’s chest, shoving him down the hall.

“I love you,” Gabriel shouted. “I pray you and Erebus will bring peace to our kingdom. I pray you will finish what I could not. And may you one day forgive me for what I am about to do.”

And then he slammed his hands into the tomb’s entrance, igniting the doors in a roar of red flame. Mithras had no time to grieve; the entrance collapsed on itself, immediately burying his father. Mithras scrambled backward, mouth dropping open in abject horror.

He was nearly to the top of the stairs when Raelion slammed into him. Claws and razor-sharp teeth pried into his skull, piercing and prodding. It took everything within him to keep running; all Mithras wanted to do was fall to the ground and curse the injustice of it all. His father and Theia had planned this. They knew Gabriel wouldn’t be strong enough to contain Raelion for five hundred years.

Twenty more steps.

“Let me in,” Raelion snarled in Mithras’s mind.

Ten.

“Let me in and uphold your father’s bargain.”