A few of the nightmares would be on the opposite side of the portal when they closed it. It was inevitable. But no new ones would come, so after they were killed off, that would be the end of the creatures in the Four Kingdoms.
Until then, the Knights of Midian and the Guild were busy rounding up nightmares. Lian and Pati were with them. Pati seemed to have adjusted well to the change. Xenia still wasn’t pleased about her daughter taking risks and fighting the nightmares. She kept reminding her that just because she didn’t age didn’t mean she couldn’t be wounded or killed. But Pati wouldn’t listen.
The days went too quickly.
Before Nicce knew it, it was the day of the wedding, and she was dressed in her blue dress, holding the train in her arms so that she could pace and steal glances down at the courtyard of the Guild, where the wedding would take place, and where everyone was milling about on the hillside, not taking the seats that had been set up for them.
Absalom appeared in the doorway to the room where she was pacing. “You look radiant.”
She threw her train down on the floor and let out a noisy sigh. “I feel like I’m going to lose my mind.”
“Nerves?” He winked at her. “Shall I explain to you what happens between a man and a woman on their wedding night?”
“Absalom.” She put her hands on her hips.
“When a man loves a woman very much, and he is Eithan Draig, he thirsts for her blood, so he conspires to kill anyone who happens to be in the way of his having her, including goddesses.”
She laughed. It felt good. “Oh, I don’t know why I’m nervous. Nothing will be different afterward. It will still be me and Eithan together, and we’ll still… it’s not really going to change anything.”
“If that were true, you wouldn’t be nervous,” he said.
She took a deep breath.
“You’re good for him, you know? I wasn’t sure at first. It frightened me, the change in him. But he’s better when he wants things for himself. He’s more driven, and when Eithan is driven, there’s nothing he can’t do.” Absalom closed the distance between them and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Just take care of him, that’s all I ask. He’s been my closest friend for over a hundred years. I care about him.”
“Of course,” she said.
When she looked back down at the courtyard, it was a miracle, because everyone was suddenly seated.
Her stomach turned over.
They were waiting for her. She could even see Eithan, standing at the other end of the courtyard in front of the Conclave priest. Her heart beat out of rhythm.
“It’s time,” Absalom said, looking over her shoulder.
She looked up at him, and she was surprised at the rush of emotion that went through her, how her eyes suddenly filled with tears.
If Rhodes had still been alive, it would have been his job to walk with her on her wedding day, but he wasn’t. Absalom wasn’t anything like a father to her, but he was her friend, and she loved him.
So, it was his arm she clutched as they walked amongst the people in the courtyard, all of whom rose to their feet as she walked by. They were all smiling at her, and she realized that she belonged amongst these people.
It was a strange feeling. She’d never felt like she belonged before. But it was good. It seemed to roll through her, like thunder rolling across the sky, and the tears in her eyes spilled onto her cheeks.
Absalom handed her over to Eithan at the end of the aisle, and she gazed up at him.
He was dressed in a crisp white tunic with flowing sleeves. Over it, he wore a brocade vest, strung full of shimmering threads. His shoulders were broad and powerful and he was so handsome, it made her feel unsteady on her feet.
She hardly heard the words of the wedding ceremony.
She needed prompting when it was her turn to avow her intention to cling to this man for the rest of her days.
But then it was done, and they were kissing, and the crowd was roaring, and she felt as though she was floating.
The rest of the day was dancing and feasting and laughing with the people she and Eithan loved. Even Feteran seemed happy for them.
Later, when they were back in their room and Eithan was behind her, slowly unbuttoning the beautiful blue dress, he murmured to her that he didn’t think he’d ever been this happy.
“Me either,” she whispered. How could something so simple be so good?
“The first moment that I saw you, I wanted you,” he said. “But I never thought I’d have you, not like this. I never imagined…”
She turned to face him, to touch his face. “And I never did either. This… us… this is better than anything I ever let myself dream of having.”
He kissed her.
Her dressed slid over her shoulders, exposing her.
He cupped her breast with one hand, kissing her neck.
She gasped.
His fingers were back on the buttons, moving more quickly now.
She arched her back against him. Soon enough, the dress slid over her hips to pool on the floor, and she stepped out of it. She moved toward the bed, glancing over her shoulder to see if he was coming.
He was just looking at her, his lips slightly parted, his gaze that same hungry look that he had always given her.
She turned to him, almost shy, but beyond that now. She ran one of her own fingers over her neck.
He pounced on her.
They fell back on the bed, and she laughed and writhed against him, and his teeth fitted themselves to her skin, and she sighed and groaned as waves of ecstasy washed through her.
They were the ocean, and their desire was a storm, and they gave themselves to the force of it. His fingers woke her, urged her toward bliss, and then their bodies were joined, and she clung to him, and their lips were sealed together, and when he moved in her, the storm crested and peaked and exploded, until it deposited her back on the bed, back into his arms, back into exhausted satisfaction.
But this time, even when they broke apart, she still felt connected to him.
Married, she thought sleepily, kissing whatever part of his cold skin she could get her lips on.
And then she slept.
* * *
She wasn’t ready to go close the portal when the day came. They’d barely been married for a day. Why had she made this plan? Why did it need to be so soon? Certainly, they could put it off a week. Two weeks. Even a month. The gods weren’t going anywhere.
Being married to Eithan was deeply satisfying in a way she hadn’t predicted. She had never experienced anything like it, and she couldn’t understand why it affected her the way that it did, but it did change things, just as Absalom had said. The feeling inside her, that voice, that itch… it was quiet for the first time since she’d noticed it on that dock next to Zed’s boat. Or no, that wasn’t the first time she’d felt it. She’d always felt it, but it used to be a real voice, the voice of Diakos, hissing orders at her in the stinging rain and the sweaty heat.
Anyway, it was quiet.
She didn’t care about anything. She didn’t care about the gods. Maybe someone else could deal with that problem. Maybe she could just be with Eithan and be happy. Hadn’t she done enough, after all?
At breakfast, she sat with Diann, Septimus’s wife, and Diann seized her hand and put in on her belly and Nicce felt the tiny flutters of movement within and amazement flooded her. She tried to imagine having a living being growing inside her body, and it was exciting and strange and wonderful.
But Feteran wasn’t pleased when she suggested a delay.
He reminded her that she owed him a favor, that she had promised a favor.
“Yes, and I’ll fulfill the favor,” she said. “Only… give us some time.” She shot a glance at Eithan, and when she looked at him, her entire body felt loose and warm.
Feteran wouldn’t. He said he was going to close the portal in the dark forest on the appointed day at dawn, and then he’d close the portal in Kemulia himself, and she k
new the portals needed to be closed at the same time.
So, they left.
She and Eithan rode out on horseback, heading south through the Four Kingdoms.
And the further and further they went from the Guild keep and Castle Brinne, the less she felt that drowsy, loose warmth of contentment.
The voice was back.
She dreamed of it while she and Eithan slept in a tent in the mountains. The voice was disembodied and hovering in the air. When it spoke, it spoke with her own voice.
“I’ll never go away,” it said. “I’m part of you.”
“No,” she said in the dream. “No, no, you’re not. You’re Diakos. It’s his fault.”
“It’s your own fault,” said the voice. “You choose it. You always do.”
“Once I do this, I’ll be done,” she informed the voice.
The voice only laughed.
When she woke, it was still dark outside, and she was in Eithan’s arms, but she felt alone. It took a long time for sleep to return to her.
The next day, she was tired and irritable.
Then Eithan’s horse got a rock stuck in its shoe. Eithan was able to get it out, but the horse was limping, and they were obliged to walk both of the horses, because Eithan’s couldn’t take his weight.
Nicce began to panic. They had left late on the appointed day, and it was already going to be difficult to make it in time to close the portal at the same time as Feteran.
They needed another horse.
Eithan remembered that there was a village nearby, so they left the road and took a path toward this village, but when they arrived, there was no village left, only the ruins of buildings that had been abandoned for years and years. Eithan apologized. He remembered the village from long ago, when he was still a human soldier.
They went back up the path toward the road, and the panic in Nicce was growing into a live thing, something separate from her consciousness. She seemed to have no control over it.
They were going to fail, she suddenly realized.
She couldn’t fail.
For some reason, the idea of failure was worse even than the consequences of failure. If she failed, perhaps it meant that she was wrong about everything. That she wasn’t destined for greatness at all, and that the voice in her head was only there to torture her.
But they had passed a farm between the road and the abandoned village, and Eithan said they should stop there. He didn’t seem panicked, she noted, only grimmer and more determined.
The farmer sold them a horse for the price of Eithan’s lame horse and a handful of coins.
And then they were off.
They had lost time, so they rode straight through the night and through the next day. Then they had to stop for the horses, who couldn’t go any further. Nicce was exhausted too.
That night, she didn’t dream. She was too tired for dreams. Sleep was like falling into deep, cool water.
She wanted to keep up a punishing pace the next day, because if they did, they would arrive at the portal midday, with plenty of time until the sunrise the following morning, which was when Feteran would be closing the other portal.
But Eithan pointed out that when they arrived, they were going to have to get into Sullo’s temple to get to the portal, which wouldn’t be empty. They shouldn’t be exhausted when they arrived, because they would have to fight.
Nicce wasn’t sure this made sense. Maybe they should push through and then rest before attacking the temple.
They argued about it for too long, and they lost more time.
They ended up having to push themselves to get there. When they did, it was dusk.
The temple to Sullo was on a hill overlooking a village.
They went through the village, stopping at a tavern for food and drink. They ate, both tense, both ready for this fight at the temple.
Eithan thought they should wait until full dark, when the acolytes in the temple would likely be asleep. She thought of Eithan and the knights attacking the Guild all those years ago, moving silently through the halls and killing men in their beds.
Yes, that would be the way of it.
She agreed with him.
They waited.
They paid to leave their horses in the stable at the tavern and climbed the hill on foot. They didn’t want the horses to alert the acolytes to their presence.
The temple wasn’t like the Guild keep. It wasn’t surrounded with a wall, and it only had one entrance, in the front. It was built like a tower, a thick cylindrical building, capped with a cone on top. But the cone was open to the sun, and there was a flat place up there, ringed with a fence. They could see acolytes going to and fro, gripping the railings, looking out as the sun set and stained the sky red and orange.
Once darkness fell, they attempted to climb in a window in the back of the building, but Eithan’s grappling hook broke off the rope. They stared at it as it clung to the bottom of the window, taunting them.
There was nothing for it.
They were going to have to go in the front door.
Which, of course, had guards.
They decided that they wanted to get in as quietly as possible, so they made a quick plan.
Nicce approached the guards, her head wrapped in one of the sheets they’d brought along for sleeping. It fluttered around her like a cloak, and she bent over. She made her voice wavery, like an old woman’s. “Excuse me, can you tell me where the village is?” she said as she approached. “I got lost out in the woods here.”
“Sure,” said one of the guards. “It’s just down the hill.”
“What’s that?” she said, halting about four feet from the front door. “I can’t hear you.”
The guard repeated himself.
“No, still can’t hear you,” she said. “My ears, they aren’t what they used to be. Come over here. Closer, young man.”
The guard approached her. “It’s just down the hill. If you take the path down—”
“What?” she said. “Closer.” At this point, she could see that Eithan had silently come up behind the other guard and slit his throat. The other guard had been watching Nicce, not behind him.
The first guard stepped even closer. “The path, you see?”
She clutched his shoulder. “I do.” And then she stabbed him.
The guard let out only one small gurgling noise before he crumpled.
Nicce left him and joined Eithan at the door.
They stepped inside the temple.
Inside, they were in a vast, circular room.
Around the wall were narrow cots, the heads against the wall and the feet toward the center. The cots were full of sleeping acolytes.
She and Eithan exchanged a glance, and then they went to work.
In the darkness, she went to the first cot and peered down at the sleeping man. Drawing in a breath, she slit his throat.
He thrashed for a moment, and then he was still. The air smelled of copper.
She went to the next bed. She did it again.
She didn’t knowhow many times she’d done it before someone woke up. Maybe fifteen?
But then there was a cry of alarm, and the acolytes were out of their beds, fumbling for spears that lay on the floor, and it was madness.
It was dark and the air was full of cries and grunts. She couldn’t see Eithan. She fought on her own, but she was outnumbered. They both were. It was one thing to fight more than one man at once. It was quite another to fight more than ten men at once.
She was overpowered before she knew it, backed against the wall between two of the beds, pinned there with two spears in each of her shoulders.
One of the acolytes was in her face, pointing a sharp, curved dagger at her throat. “Why have you come to disturb us? We are peaceful men of the god of the sun.”
She yanked one of the spears out and lit up, her eyes glowing, sunlight spilling from her mouth.
The men cried out in surprise, falling back.
She yanked ou
t the other spear as well. She healed up and then she advanced on them, holding the spear out, swinging it in an arc. “Leave this place and you will be spared,” she said in a harsh voice. “Stay and face your doom.”
The men exchanged glances. They were frightened.
And then someone stabbed her from behind.
She looked down at the spear protruding from her stomach. She made a funny noise in the back of her throat.
Then the pain found her, and it was agonizing.
She cried out, falling to her knees.
To heal this, she’d have to pull the spear out, but this wasn’t like her shoulder. This was…
She tried to grip the spear, but it was slippery with her own blood, and the pain made her woozy.
She wavered, the world going dark around the edges…
And then she passed out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Nicce woke up when her body thudded against the ground.
The first thing she registered was that the spear wasn’t in her.
The next thing she registered was that she was in incredible pain. She opened her eyes. Two acolytes had tossed her out of the door of the temple. She slammed her eyes shut again. Had they seen? Maybe they thought she was dead. They’d seen her heal herself with her light, but when she had passed out, maybe they’d thought this time they’d really killed her. She had to hope so.
She waited to open her eyes again until she heard the door slam.
Then she pushed herself up. The crystals?
She had them inside her tunic, slung in a bag under her clothes. She touched them, relieved they were still there.
Now, Eithan? Where was Eithan?
She spied him, lying several feet away, curled up in a ball. He was groaning.
She crawled to him, lighting up as she did so, healing her wounds. By the time she made it to him, she was no longer in pain.
His face was illuminated in her light, frozen in a painful grimace. She looked down to see that he was curled around his arm, and then, with horror, she realized that his arm had been nearly severed, just below the elbow. Only a tiny bit of flesh connected his forearm to the rest of him. The ground was soaked with black blood.
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