Page 283 of Vasmora

“Oh, no.” I pressed my hand to where my heart clenched at the way his limp arms swung with every step. The sickly-sweet taste of death clung to the back of my throat, and as Zevander neared, I could sense the unnatural stillness of the boy’s heart.

Zevander’s brows tightened as he stared down at him, drawing my attention to the odd shape beneath the cape wrapped around Gavroche. The way the fabric seemed to catch at his ribcage as though something protruded there.

Zevander turned to face the villagers, the muscles in his jaw tight. “You are alive and cured of infection because a spindling child fought to keep breathing. A child against a god’s destruction.” His words seemed to catch in his throat. “He will be given the burial befitting a highblood,” he gritted out in a sharp and bitter tone. “And you will honor his sacrifice.”

Zevander looked over his shoulder toward me. “I’m going to bury him in the vein.”

I nodded and swept my gaze over the Hollowyns. “I’ll be right behind you.” At the pinch of his brows, I added, “I just need a moment.”

Seeming to understand, he nodded, and his massive scorpion stepped out of his back onto the bloodstained floor. Villagers gasped, backing away, and the scorpion skittered around them toward the sealed iron doors. With three hearty whacks of its tail, it blew the doors off the hinges, allowing Zevander to pass through. The villagers trailed after him, followed by Kazhimyr, Fennyx and Torryn, and finally, the lone razorwolf that glanced back before chasing behind.

Only Verena and Rykaia remained alongside me.

The Hollowyns stood in the flickering light of the few torches still burning. Strong, Corvikae warriors who’d battled monsters to spare the living.

“You fought bravely,” I said, raising my hands to either side of me. “Now, rest.”

The moment I gave the command, every Hollowyn in the room collapsed into piles of bones.

The floor shook beneath my feet.

Dust rained down from the ceiling in thick, blinding plumes.

Collapsing.

“We have to go. Now.” Verena tugged my arm, and I hooked mine in Rykaia’s.

The three of us sprinted across the cavern, chasing after the others who’d trekked that way moments ago. A seismic groan reverberated off the walls, as the ancient stones fought to hold their composure and the aging mortar cracked under the pressure.

Chunks of chipped rock slammed down across our path, and I leapt out of the way, dragging Rykaia with me as a boulder the size of a watermelon hurtled toward us.

The statues of the gods crumbled, tumbling to the ground like fallen chess pieces.

One final lunge sent all three of us skidding through the gaping entrance.

Not a breath later, the roar of collapsing limestone tore through the air on a gust of gray dust. Jagged boulders tumbled to the ground, piling around the cavern’s entrance, until the light within flickered to darkness.

I coughed and gagged, my lungs burning as the tiny particles settled there. The three of us clasped hands, staring up at the piled ruins, where the iron doors had once stood open.

“I need a drink,” Rykaia said beside me.

* * *

The crowd that’d gathered at the vein packed the tunnel, bodies pressed close together, as Rykaia, Verena and I pushed our way through.

With his cloak still covering the boy, Zevander lowered Gavroche into the vein. The boy’s small form carried on the molten current that’d formed in the time since Zevander had first ignited it, drifting through the flames toward the culvert, before Gavroche’s body sank into the thick, violet lava. Quietly disappearing below the surface.

At first, the villagers stood silent.

Then the man beside me stepped forward and cupped his hands together, creating a pale blue glow. When he opened them, glowing ribbons of light drifted upward from his palms, flitting in the air. The man cleared his throat and sang a long, sad note in a voice that sounded like an angel’s.

“Oh, gods,” Rykaia whispered beside me. “The Royal Requiem.”

“What is it?” I asked.

The woman on the other side of him also cupped her hands over a blue glow and sent a second ribbon of light upward. Her voice joined that of the man’s in a beautiful harmony.

“It’s a tribute to a dying king. To honor his death. I’ve never personally witnessed it before.”