Vanquished Gods (Hallowed Games #2)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

T o my relief, we lost the Luminari right away. What followed was night spent riding, then sailing through the western sea. I could hardly keep my eyes open as I pulled my cloak more tightly around me against the chill of the early morning air.

On the ship’s quarterdeck, the timber creaked and groaned beneath my feet, and I held on to the ship’s railing.

Hours ago, we’d sailed north up Merthyn’s eastern coast until we’d passed the great stone walls of Sumaire, the stones rising high into the clouds. Hugo had told Leo that centuries ago, the invading Tyrenian Emperor Severin had built those walls to keep the people of Merthyn safe from the unnamed monsters in the north. Then, he’d created the Order to purge Merthyn of the scourge of witchcraft that had created them.

Now, I stared out at the sea over the deck. The wind whipped at my hair, and above us, the rising sun streaked the clouds with shades of ruby and molten copper. Nearby, the ship’s vampiric captain stood at the helm, gripping the wheel. The sea breeze ruffled his red hair, and the rising sun tinged his skin with rose. His crew bustled around him.

Maelor stood nearby, strangely steady on the pitching boat. He stared out at the horizon, his body perfectly still, his black coat billowing behind him.

Saltwater misted over me. In the past hour, the waves had grown choppier, and the ship had started to pitch and heave. Sea spray washed over me. A few feet away, Godric heaved over the side of the boat, emptying his stomach. I swallowed my own nausea. Somehow, Hugo and Leo were sleeping through it all, as if they were being rocked gently to sleep.

At last, I saw it in the distance—Gwethel, a small, rocky island crowned with a great castle atop the craggy slopes. Sleek, built of pale blue stones, the castle looked like something from a fairytale. My heart sped up at the sight of it, at the mist twining around the island. On one side, a forest and fields spread out. On the other, a walled city stood beneath the castle’s towers.

Steadying myself with my arms outstretched, I started to walk to the main deck, taking the stairs. The door to the captain’s quarter was painted with symbols of the sea—Triton and the North Star. I pulled open the door, smiling at Hugo and Leo, who were asleep, nestled into two corners of the captain’s quarters. Through small, round windows, light filtered onto Leo, who slept with one arm slung over his eyes. My heart clenched as I looked at him. Someone had covered him with a blanket.

As quietly as I could, I closed the door behind me and climbed back up to the main deck. I turned to see Maelor crossing over to me, his pale eyes sparkling with gold in the morning light.

“That’s Donn Hall?” It was much prettier than I’d imagined. “Maelor, what exactly will I be doing on this island? And why will I be in the castle, and not the witches’ city?”

The wind toyed with Maelor’s dark hair. “Sion thinks we can teach you to better control your magic so you can take down the Pater. You won’t be able to practice it around mortals, only vampires.”

“Good point.”

“He thinks you can destroy the Pater’s army.”

A shiver rippled over my skin. “There are thousands of Luminari, not to mention the Ravens. Does Sion think I’m going to kill thousands?” My fingernails dug into the wood of the railing as I watched Gwethel loom closer. The castle of blue stone looked as if it had grown from the rocks themselves.

“No one has a clear vision of how this will play out except, apparently, the Keeper of Relics. And she doesn’t provide details.”

“If I killed thousands, I’d lose my mind. I’d turn evil. I’d become Death itself. And if I can kill ten thousand people at once, would you really want that version of me running around Merthyn? I’d be worse than the Pater.”

Silence spilled out between us, broken only by the sound of the ship crashing over waves. Around us, the fog thickened, and I breathed in the warm, briny mist.

Maelor sighed. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. The first thing is getting you all to safety, isn’t it? The Order doesn’t know we’re here, and we’ve been trying to build a small army. Witches, vampires, anyone ready to fight against the Pater. Our witches have been making as many pendants as they can so our vampires can fight in the light.”

My eyebrows shot up. “And they feel safe here?”

“Vampires have always lived around humans, even in Sumaire. We’d die without them. We’ve found ways to live with the thralls—the humans who serve us, who willingly give their blood. But safely…well, it’s not perfect. Sometimes, we kill them. We lose control, we drink too much. We crave too much, and we take everything. That’s our nature, I’m afraid. That’s why the witches are heavily protected in Veilcross Haven. Really, it’s a city that dates back hundreds of years. Centuries ago, humans built walls around it to keep themselves safe from vampires. Bran granted them dozens of guards, armed with stakes every night in case a vampire became unleashed. You’ll find Lydia and Percival there. We’ve had a large influx of witch allies recently.”

The ship’s captain was already easing us toward a rough-hewn, mossy pier that jutted from the cliff’s base. All around me, the crew’s footfalls creaked and groaned over the ship’s deck. Shouts pierced the air, commands from the first mate and captain.

Maelor’s gaze bored into me. “In the castle, lock your door at all times. You’ll be supplied with the tincture there, and you should drink it. But here’s what you need to know. When a vampire unleashes, it means we’re turning into our true, cruelest form—our darkest side is coming out.”

“And what am I supposed to do then?”

“The first thing to know is that when that happens, you can’t run. It’s a hunter instinct taking over, when a vampire is about to fuck or kill or satisfy any primal desire. Mortal fear drives us wild in that state, and running stokes the instinct to chase. So, you have two options. You go still and try to mask your fear, or you fight for your life.”

My heart slammed against my ribs. “Thanks for the tips.”

He turned to look at the island, and I followed his gaze.

Sion marched down the pier, the wind in his hair. Here, he moved so smoothly, like the sea breeze gliding over the water. There was something eerie about the grace of his gait, and I realized that he’d dropped the act. In Ruefield, he was pretending to be human, moving more slowly, less gracefully. Here, he was all vampire.

Dread settled into my bones as we sailed closer. And when I slipped my hand into my pocket, my fingertips brushed over something metallic. A shudder ran up my spine. I still had Seneschal Velenus’s butterfly pendant on me. I cleared my throat. “You mentioned Bran Velenus. Sion said he was missing?”

“Still missing,” said Maelor. “He’s one of Sion’s closest friends, though I have no idea why because the man is an absolute churlish boor with few social graces. But the two of them spent centuries hunting together. It’s one thing to drink from a thrall, but hunting a human is a different sort of thrill. I think Sion appreciates the fact that Bran never made him feel guilt for what he craved. The two of them are absolute hedonists, and it’s a wild bond they have.”

My stomach dropped.

The ship thudded dully against the pier, and the salty wind whipped over me. Sion’s golden gaze pierced through the wisps of mist. “Elowen.” His deep voice skimmed over my skin. “You’re coming with me.”

And what choice did I have?