Death of Gods (Vampire Crown Book 3)

by Scarlett Dawn

  Roran got it first and nodded. “Yes. Of course. We excluded you from important conversations about you. Which isn’t right.”

  Rilen’s nod followed. “Yes, I get it. You do understand that this came from a place of worry.”

  “Guys. No one worries about this more than I do. It’s me. It’s my life. So, of course, I’m worried.” I folded my arms. “What is the basis of your worry?”

  Rilen started. “Despite the fact that you have brought down the Spine…”

  “…it feels like something is missing in your magic,” Roran concluded.

  “It has since you came out of the cave,” Rilen confessed. “Since we came out of the cave.”

  “It’s like there’s a missing piece of the puzzle. It’s not dangerous, but it’s holding you back from really taking possession of the title of Healer of S’Kir,” Roran said.

  “We can get you all the way to amazing heights of power, but we’re not sure that you can use it all. There’s just something…missing.”

  My breath escaped my chest in a rush. “I know. I feel it too. I’m not really mad that I can’t take my turn at the shield, but more at why I can’t take the turn.” I glanced between them. “Does everyone know?”

  “All the masters can sense the missing piece.” Rilen nodded.

  “Were you never going to talk to me about this?” I tried to keep the anger from my voice.

  “I…don’t know.” Roran took my hand and held it lightly.

  “We are now,” Rilen said, tossing his twin a dirty look.

  I didn’t let my smile show. They got it, and I needed them to be serious with me. For just a little while. Then they could go back to Rilen and Teabag.

  They took my hands and walked quietly into the formal gardens of the temple grounds. I could see the new Masters’ Quarters being built on the grounds of the old one, and they were rising quickly. It was heading quickly toward completion, and I hoped it was a way for the people to have something to focus on rather than the hell that was at the Scar.

  “What do you think is wrong with your magic, Kimber?” Roran asked.

  Only the sound of our feet crunching on the gravel filled the air for a few strides. I started to ponder the question silently but realized they were here for me, to help me.

  “I’m not sure.” I let out a sigh. “I know I have an amazing connection to the magic of S’Kir. That was evident in the cavern. Whatever I have now was enough to do what I was meant to do.”

  I dragged in a hard deep breath. “So why does it feel like my magic is incomplete?”

  Rilen twiddled his thumb with mine. “Is it the magic or the power?”

  I laughed. “Hoping to share me with your brother again? No, it’s the magic. Between the three of you, I have no need of more power.” Guiding us to a bench on the side of the walk, they helped me sit while they remained standing so we could all see each other.

  “Is there something in your past, perhaps?” Rilen asked.

  Raising an eyebrow, I stared at him. “My past is about as boring as I am. My parents were Willow and Dixon Raven. They waited seven hundred years to have a child. They saw I wasn’t powerful, so they excused me from many classes to my detriment, and then died when I was forty-five in a boating accident. That’s about it.”

  “Do you know why they waited so long to have you?” Roran asked.

  “My mother was told that her daughter would be the death of her by a seer.” My eyebrows quirked up. “She was given a prophecy by a seer when she was very young.”

  “Do you have that written anywhere?” Rilen asked.

  “Um. It might be at the house.”

  “House?”

  Nodding, I pointed to the southeast. “My parents’ house. I’ve kept it all these years, thinking someday I could live there with a mate. It’s shuttered, and everything that was precious to them was stored there. I don’t go there often because it’s…lonely. I think if I live there, ever, I will need to pull down the walls and put up new.”

  Roran angled his head, curious. “Why?”

  “Because too many things happened there. Things that aren’t good memories. My nanny died when I was five, and my parents lived there when they died. The house still speaks of my mother’s decoration and my father’s hobbies.”

  “They loved you very much, didn’t they?” Rilen’s question was quiet.

  I shook my head. “In their own way, yes. But when I was young, they were not… affectionate. When I got older, it became easier to bear because I realized they didn’t know what to do with a child. They were not natural parents. As I grew, as I became my own person, it was easier for them to be my friend than my parents.”

  How strange to think of all this.

  Roran cleared his throat and asked the question again. “Did your mother save her prophecy?”

  “Yes, I’m sure she did. It will be at the house.”

  “How far from the city is the house?” Rilen asked.

  “A half day by train, in the Middling Hills.”

  Looking up at the sky, Roran nodded. “The raid is in two days. If we catch the next train to Middling Hills, we can be back tomorrow by noon.”

  With a snap of my head, my eyes met his. “Right now?”

  “Right now.” Roran offered his hand. “We need to start figuring out what is missing in your magic, and we need to start now.”

  Rilen folded his arms. “Especially if you want to go on the raid.”

  “I’m allowed?”

  Roran looked at his brother. “Mmm. I wouldn’t say allowed, but…”

  “…if you show up ready to go, I don’t think they’re going to say no to another sword.” Rilen shrugged.

  The smirk slipped onto my lips. These two men were so bad for me.

  I loved it.

  * * *

  Stepping off the train, the three of us walked down the platform to murmurs, gasps, hasty bows, and curtsies. It was strange to experience people who had been my neighbors decades ago bowing to me.

  If they didn’t know I was the Breaker, they knew we were temple masters by our dress.

  Rilen waved up a carriage, and we climbed in. I gave the address to the driver, and he turned to look at me.

  Everett Thomson.

  Elex’s father.

  “Mistress Kimber?”

  I came close to leaning out of the carriage and heaving my guts down the side.

  “Mister Everettson,” I managed, choking on my bile.

  “My dear,” he held his hand out to me, “it is so good to see you. My wife and I have been reluctant to come to you since your elevation. Would you join us for dinner? We just wish to hear of our son from you…”

  Sweet Savior. Was this my punishment for his death?

  “Mister Everettson,” Rilen said, “we’d be pleased to join you for the evening meal. However, we must get to Mistress Kimber’s old home as soon as possible. May we call on you after?”

  “Of course, Master.” He nodded and turned back to face the front.

  “Deep breath, ilati,” Roran whispered in my ear. “What do you fear from him?”

  “That he is the one who brought his son into the rebels,” I hissed. “I misjudged Elex, who is to say I didn’t misjudge his father, as well.”

  “Do you sense any duplicity?”

  I let the magic whirl around him and felt…nothing but the sadness of a man who had lost his son. There was no malice, no duplicity, no dishonesty.

  “No, nothing. He just wants to hear about his son.”

  Taking my hand in his, Roran smiled. “There you go. Well done. Now calm down. You’ve had many dinners at his parents’ house, from what I understand. We will tell them what they need to hear. His death was unavoidable. He did so to save S’Kir.”

  There really wasn’t much of a lie in that. He did die to save S’Kir, just not the way most people would assume.

  I sat back and watched the hills roll by, remembering the landscape, flora, and fauna. There were gorgeous v
istas here, open spaces, farms, and livestock.

  Everett’s voice floated back to us. “It hasn’t changed much since you left, Kimber—I mean, Mistress.”

  “Please, call me Kimber,” I said.

  After all, shouldn’t you be on a first name basis with your son’s killers?

  “Are you coming back to stay soon?”

  “No, no.” I could see the primary school in the distance where Elex and I had played as small children. “I’m here to check on the house, that’s all. Just make sure that it’s in good repair and…uh, find a piece of art my mother left me.”

  “We were shocked to hear you were the Breaker,” Everett continued a moment later. “Someone so meek and mild entrusted with such a task…how do our vampire brethren fair?”

  “Not, well, sir,” Rilen answered. “Not well at all.”

  I leaned forward and cleared my throat. “Everett, who has taken over the Rest?”

  Both Rilen and Roran turned their heads to look at me, eyes wide, shock on their faces. I darted between their looks, waiting for Everett to answer.

  “The Fox Family,” he said, but there was reluctance in his voice. “I’m afraid they aren’t as good at attending to the needs of the Resting. We have all taken turns doing rounds in the caves.”

  I sighed. “Should I speak with them? It is my duty to make sure that the caves are cared for.”

  “I think it would be more than a mere suggestion to them if you did.” He chuckled. “I can just see Bateena’s face when not just one but three temple masters appear at her door.”

  A little chuckle escaped me. “I believe that crapping her pants would be an understatement.”

  I heard Everett chuckle along with me a moment later.

  The rest of the ride was quiet, as Roran and Rilen were clearly doing their twin thing, something passing back and forth between.

  It only stopped when Everett pulled his carriage to a stop in front of my old home. House. Home.

  It confused me more than ever to be there.

  Roran helped me out of the carriage as Rilen pushed the gratuity into Everett’s palm. No one wanted for the basics of life in S’Kir, but the finer things required gold. And the people of the Middling Hills were always in want of gold—I was glad Rilen pressed it on him. I would do more if I could.

  Perhaps I could. I’d look into it soon.

  As the carriage rumbled away down the dirt trail, I stood looking at my old house.

  It was nestled in the shadow of a tall cliff, the sun only shining down for a mere three hours in midday, between its rise from behind the hill to its slide behind the trees on the far hill.

  There were two paths. One led to the front door, poorly tended even for a dirt path, and the other led off to the right and up the hill to the mouth of a cave.

  Rilen’s voice broke the odd silence between us. “Kimber, your parents were the Keepers of the Rest?”

  “Yes.” I glanced to the right to the two handsome men standing there. “It wasn’t a secret.”

  “I just never realized you were that Raven family.” Roran’s eyes locked on the entrance of the cave.

  “I’ve been gone for nearly fifty years. I trusted the Poulson family first. They were terrible at taking care of it. I left it to the mayor to choose the next family. Too bad it seems they were just as bad as the Poulsons.” I sighed. “We’ll go up and check the Rest before we go to Everett’s house for dinner.”

  I headed up the decrepit front walk, and the twins bolted after me.

  “How many Rest?” Rilen asked.

  I pulled out a key to the front door and unlocked it. “I don’t know. I don’t keep the records here anymore. I am merely the owner of the land. Other people are the caretakers.”

  The door creaked on its hinges as it swung into the house. The same creak I remembered from all my years there. No amount of oil or grease ever fixed it.

  The dust I stirred floated through the air and didn’t have any intention of settling. It was thick and choking, and with a brush of magic, I pushed all the windows of the house open, and a welcome breeze traversed the rooms.

  So bucolic. So peaceful.

  So unnerving.

  There was something…that always bothered me about being there. Even before my parents died. Even when Cely was there to chase the boogeymen away.

  It never felt right as home.

  “Let’s find the box with my mother’s stuff.” I walked toward my parents’ old bedroom and pushed the door open.

  Daylight didn’t do much for the room in the back of the house. This room had always been starved for light, and I felt it now.

  Roran stepped in the door, and Rilen followed, bringing up some magical light in the room.

  Even after breaking the Spine, I kept forgetting I had power and magic and didn’t have to rifle in the dark.

  “No furniture?” Rilen asked, moving to the windows.

  “No, I got rid of almost everything when they died. I gave it to the others in the town who could use it. Their bedroom furniture was one of the first things to go.” I pulled the closet doors open. “I stored all of their personal belongings in here.”

  There were only a few boxes, one labeled Willow, one labeled Dixon, and one for the two of them together. They were married when they were a hundred, so the personal boxes were smaller.

  I lifted my mother’s out of the closet and knelt down with it, opening the top.

  The box only had a few things. Parchment from her school. A silly project from when I was young. A necklace made from pretty stone she’d found as a little girl. The small, stuffed kitten that my father had given her as a gift on their second date. The dried rose from when he proposed to her. Their Sealing ceremony certificate.

  A small, ancient-looking box my mother had only let me see once before she hid it away sat in the center. I only saw it again after her death, and that was when I found the prophecy inside.

  Opening the lid, I reached in and pulled out a pale blue seashell. This was old, old magic. A whisper shell. A seer could enchant it and whisper the vision into it before giving it to the focus of the vision.

  This one was my mother’s with the promise of death for my birth.

  I put the crystal next to the box in my palm and offered both to the twins.

  It was silent a moment, then the prophecy started to fill the room. Nothing more than a breath carried the sound around.

  “…a child born of unfathomable time, a whole made of two impossible halves. Destiny waits for her sword and blood, your death shall follow her birth…”

  The looks on their faces were of wonder, horror, and shock. Rilen took the crystal while Roran took the small box. They studied them, turned them over, traded, and traded back.

  The prophecy kept whispering from the shell.

  After a long time of study, Rilen finally spoke. “Kimber, there’s no way that this belonged to your mother.”

  My brows knitted. “She got so upset when I found it and opened it. She was utterly livid. Possibly the only time I ever saw her angry.”

  Roran shook his head. “It’s not hers. It can’t be. This magic is ancient. It hasn’t been used since before the Spine rose. And it can’t be used anymore.”

  “But—”

  “Roran is right. This must be an heirloom of some sort that meant a lot to her. These whisper shells”—Rilen held it up—“are native only to the Southling Caye. Once the seer whispers their vision into it, it never stops whispering back.”

  Turning the box in his hands to show me the runes, Roran traced a finger over them. “This box with these words is the only way to quiet the shell.”

  “But I don’t understand why you say this isn’t used anymore.”

  “Because these runes,” Roran continued, “must be carved into only one kind of wood, a hushwillow tree. And those trees grew in only one copse in all of S’Kir. It stood northeast of the vampire stronghold in East S’Kir, beyond the Twin Falls.”

  I caught th
e past tense. “Stood?”

  Rilen pursed his lips, and great creases of sorrow lined his face. “It burned to the ground the day before the Spine rose.” He stood and walked out of the room, seemingly unable to be there anymore.

  Watching him walk away, I turned to his twin, whose face echoed the same pain.

  “His wife died in the fire.”

  EMOTIONS, IDEAS, AND REVELATIONS ALL SLAMMED into me at once. They were so heavy and hit so hard, I had to brace my hands on the floor.

  “His…wife…”

  Roran tucked the small crystal back in the box and shut the lid. The whisper stopped immediately.

  “His wife.”

  I didn’t know what to think.

  How old were these men? How much more didn’t I know of them?

  Rilen had been married?

  Placing the box in my hand, Roran curled my fingers around it. “You wanted us to stop being duplicitous and be honest with you. The grove of hushwillow was burned to the ground by the Three—a set of legendary seers who disappeared when the Spine rose.

  “That box was probably one of the last ones made with the wood, specifically to hold that shell. I don’t know who it belonged to originally, but it was not meant for your mother. It is merely a sentimental heirloom. That your parents drowned in the sea was just an unfortunate accident.” He put a hand on my arm. “Kimber, I’m sorry.”

  I put my hands on my temples. “No! Gods and demons, there’s so much there. Where the hell do I even start to ask questions?”

  Roran took the box back and put it in my bag. He offered a hand and helped me stand. “My brother was married. Just a few weeks before the Spine. His wife, Amina, was one of the druids who knew how to make those boxes. She was in the woods, looking for fallen trees and trees that could be safely harvested. She died in the fire that morning, and Rilen was… crushed. Destroyed. He loved her so much.”

  “I thought you and Dorian…”

  “We didn’t know Dorian well until after the Spine rose. We were young when it did, just about a century old.”