Vanquished Gods (Hallowed Games #2)

Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

T he air went cold as Sion grabbed the paper. I nestled in close to him so I could read it, too. A message had been written in swooping black ink:

We have the former Raven Lord, Maelor. He has been captured by the Order to protect the safety of mortals across Merthyn. He is scheduled for execution at nightfall. If you wish to save him from that fate, we require that the two other greatest threats to our region, Sion and the witch known as Elowen, turn themselves in. While we will need to imprison you for the safety of Merthyn’s subjects, we will allow all three of you to live out your natural lives in Ruefield. If you fail to comply with our demands, Maelor will be staked in the heart with hawthorn. You must arrive in Dredbury before nightfall. You may not carry any weapons, including wands.

My blood ran cold. They knew how to kill vampires. They knew about the wands. And there was no way in hell they would let us live out our lives in peace. What did that even mean for a vampire? It wasn’t as if the Order was going to supply them with the blood they needed.

The forest air went ice-cold as Sion’s gaze darkened to midnight. “You don’t need to do this, Elowen. I can go on my own.”

Dread settled in the pit of my stomach, and I shook my head. “Let’s get to the docks. We’re sailing to Dredbury together.”

The sun painted the sky in deep shades of red and coral, casting long shadows over the road. In the thick, dry air, our horses kicked up dust as we rode. Their hooves pounded against the packed soil.

Sion rode beside me, his jaw clenched, his long hair streaking behind him like a war banner. Behind us, Lydia urged her horse to keep up with us.

Up ahead, the towering walls of Dredbury loomed, the sun washing them in amber. Energy coursed through my veins as we rode closer, careening at a wild speed. We had only one chance to get things right, and already, twilight was closing in on us. We were running out of time, and I could hardly breathe. We’d spent eight hours on the boat, getting to the coast, and another hour riding.

Sion still had a few spies within the Luminari, those who hated the Pater as much as he did. According to them, the new Magister was deeply committed to public executions. No surprise—that was how the Order liked to operate. Maelor would be executed in the town square. The Magister also had a tendency to overcompensate when it came to defending himself while leaving the outskirts exposed. He’d fortify the interior of Dredbury with everything he had, surrounding himself personally with defenses.

And as we arrived at the outskirts of the city, we found only two soldiers guarding the gate. Two armored Luminari stood at attention, gripping spears. Tension coiled in my chest.

“Soldiers!” Sion barked. “Do you not recognize your former Magister Solaris?”

The word “Solaris” was our signal. Swiftly, I drew my dagger, just as Sion drew his, and we watched as they arced through the air—one thrown by each of us, carefully aimed. The soldiers had no time to draw their swords before the blades found their marks right in the men’s throats.

In my case, it had taken me years of constant training to master that skill. In Sion’s case, all he’d had to do was become a vampire.

Blood pooled on the ground as the soldiers crumpled to the cobbles.

“Nicely done.” Sion dismounted and crossed to the soldiers.

As I slid off my horse to follow, he started pulling the armor off them. I pulled off my own cloak, handing it to Lydia.

Quickly, we stripped the Luminari of their uniforms and metal breastplates. While Lydia kept a lookout, we hurriedly dressed ourselves in their amor and capes. The heavy fabric smelled of sweat and blood, and the breastplate felt bulky on me, far too large. We pulled the Luminari’s helmets off and slid them on our heads, keeping everything covered but our eyes.

I tucked my wand into my sleeve, the familiar weight settling against my arm, providing comfort, as I readied myself to walk into the lion’s den.

Disguised as soldiers, we slipped through the gates and into the city, blending into the shadows as we moved deeper into Dredbury. A cold weight settled over me as we went. I turned, glancing up at the city walls surrounding us, which were adorned with stone-carved heads and swords drenched in red paint to look like blood.

We walked with the rigid gate of the Luminari, tuning in to the distant shouts that floated through the streets. I could feel the tension roiling off Sion. We both knew what was at stake, and there wasn’t room for a single error.

As we moved farther into Dredbury, I tried to make a mental map of the city roads. When we left, we’d need to know exactly where we were going, as there would be no time for hesitation or questions.

I scanned my surroundings. Swinging in the wind, the tavern signs displayed images of severed heads, of bones and bloodied swords. Centuries ago, when we still had kings, Ambrosias the Sixth had ordered a Pater to be assassinated. The murder happened in Dredbury, the Pater’s throat cut in his own Archonium. It had backfired for the king. The Pater became a martyr, and now his bones rested in a glass case on the altar. Pilgrims traveled there from all over Merthyn to pay their respects, and the taverns made as much money as they could off this connection.

The new Pater chose this place for a reason—a statement of pious sacrifice, of the endless power of the Order.

When the road opened into the town square, fear snapped through my nerve endings. We stood at the edges of the square, blending into the crowd.

In the center of the square, a stake had been set up on a scaffold. I found myself wondering how long they’d leave him there if our mission failed and he died, and if a vampire’s dead body would burn in the sun, regardless of whether they wore their pendant.

I forced myself to pull my gaze from the stake and my dark ruminations, instead scanning the square with a growing sense of dread. The townspeople had gathered in clusters, huddled around the square, watching for Maelor’s arrival. Their faces were pale, their eyes wide and mouths curved with a strange sort of giddy excitement. They were scared, waiting for us to arrive—the monsters they’d been warned about—and they’d be delighted to see us captured, as if the Order were keeping them safe. They had no idea who the real monsters were.

I turned my gaze upward, toward the balconies that ringed the square. Archers crowded the upper levels, arrows already nocked and aimed. The Luminari were ready for us, and when we gave ourselves up, there could be no missteps. The moment we used magic, the archers would loose hundreds of arrows.

I could hardly breathe. Maelor would die there if we didn’t get everything exactly right.

The new magister crossed before the scaffold, pacing. Sion’s replacement moved with a slow, deliberate grace, draped in black robes that marked him as the military commander. A golden sun pendant gleamed against his chest, catching the last light of the fading sun. He was much younger than I’d thought, far too young to carry that kind of authority. His blond curls framed a face that was almost serene, his expression calm. He had no idea he would also die young.

My pulse pounded. I could sense Sion beside me, coiled and ready to strike.

Sion leaned in closer and whispered, “When they bring Maelor out, we shift to the front of the crowd. When I give the signal, I will use shadows to darken the square. But it must all happen at vampire speed. The moment I fully unleash my darkness, you need to roll to a new position in case the archers identify us as the ones using magic. Then unleash your magic to kill the Magister and the soldiers around Maelor. Understood?”

I nodded.

Shadows began pooling more thickly, the sky now streaked with periwinkle.

The growing tension in the air was thick enough to choke on. My heart was a wild drumbeat in my chest, my hand sweaty around the tip of my wand. But beneath the fear, determination coursed through my veins. We would not be leaving without Maelor.

An excited murmur spilled through the square, and I glanced at the opposite side, where the crowd was parting.

Armored soldiers were dragging Maelor across the town square, his arms bound behind him. A Luminarus walked backward before Maelor with a stake aimed directly at his heart. Maelor’s head hung forward, his dark hair covering his face. My stomach churned with nausea at the sight of him. They’d clearly tortured him, and I was sure hawthorn had been involved. He wasn’t healing.

Sion and I edged our way to the front of the crowd, giving us a clear shot at the scaffold. As we stepped forward, that also gave the archers a clear view of us. Would they notice that my armor was several sizes too large for me?

The Magister Solaris turned at the sight of him, straightening. I knew that as soon as Sion used his shadows, that stake would start pressing into Maelor’s heart. Mentally, I calculated how swiftly it would move, based on the angle, the closeness. I wouldn’t have long to shift position before using my magic.

“The man before you is Serpent-cursed, and his friends have chosen to let him die here.” The Magister’s voice carried over the square. “They are not loyal, even amongst themselves. This loyal Luminarus has been ordered to drive that hawthorn stake into the creature’s heart. I must say, I feel little guilt in killing a monster.”

The soldiers dragged Maelor up the scaffold. My heart slammed hard, and I felt Sion go taut beside me, the tension tightening like a noose around our necks.

I summoned my magic, my body thrumming with the dark power of decay. My gaze flicked to Sion.

“Now,” he whispered.

I let my yew wand drop from my sleeve into my palm just as a dome of shadows burst from his body, blanketing everything around us in darkness.

We rolled out of position, hoping to dodge the arrows, just as an officer barked the order to his archers: “Loose!”

Screams ripped through the town square, and the night swallowed us. Using my wand, I sent my death magic toward the scaffold—a large bloom of it in the general direction of the Magister and Maelor.

Arrows clattered nearby, slamming against the stones where we’d been kneeling just moments before. Screams pierced the air.

My blood roared. Apart from the vampires and me, everyone in the sphere of shadows would be dead now.

The question was, had we been fast enough to spare Maelor’s life? Had the Luminarus driven that stake into his heart, or had we killed him before he had the chance?

In the darkness, Sion grabbed my arm and pulled me off the ground. But as he did, I felt an arrow pierce my neck, and agony ripped through my throat.

I can’t breathe…

My breath faltered, copper on my tongue. Panic ripped through my thoughts, just for a split second, and then everything went quiet.

Still and quiet as a grave.