Pressure settled on my shoulders. An awareness that brought a chill to the nape of my neck. That heavy, oppressive feeling—the same as I’d felt the night that Vessa had struck down the draken, and in the woods outside of Three Rivers—cloaked my skin. I’d felt it before when we were in Stonehill and I’d heard that voice urging me to lose control.
The same one I’d heard that night in Lockswood when I’d been floating in the nothingness.
“He’s been waiting.” Callum ignored Kieran, his chin dipped, eyes eager and voice soft, full of worship—so very much like the Priests and Priestesses in Oak Ambler. “This whole time, he too has slept fitfully. Kept well fed under the Temple of Theon.”
Kieran’s skin blanched as a shudder rocked me. “The children,” I gasped. “The extra Rite.”
“He had to be strong enough to awaken, and he was.” Callum dragged his teeth along his lower lip. “When you shed the mortal flesh and began your Ascension, it freed him. And soon, when Malec takes his final breath, he will be at his full strength. All these years—all these centuries and centuries—he’s been waiting. Sleeping even more restlessly after your birth. Sensing you, feeling you. He’s been waiting and waiting for the proverbial key to his lock, for his…pretty poppy to pick and watch bleed.”
Red-hot rage swirled through Casteel, gathering in my throat like a pool of acid. He moved so fast, I didn’t see his hand until it was tearing through Callum’s chest, and the Revenant’s heart was in his palm, dripping blood and thick tissue.
Malik and Millicent turned to him. “What?” Casteel snarled, throwing the heart aside. “I couldn’t listen to another word. Not even going to say I’m sorry. Fuck him.”
Delano’s imprint brushed against my thoughts. Something’s coming…
No, someone was already here.
Death.
Destruction.
Stale lilacs.
Oh, my gods.
The dread exploded into panic as I jerked to the side. “Kolis.”
Chapter 48
A blast of energy rippled out from Malec, unseen but felt. Dark. Oily. Suffocating as it slammed into us. There was no warning—no time to prepare. The statues of the kneeling gods exploded, all down the Temple. Casteel and I skidded back several feet into Kieran. He caught both of us while Malik lost his balance and went down on one knee. Millicent was knocked against the pillars. Twisting at the waist, I saw Delano and several of the wolven hunched low to the ground, their ears flattened, and their teeth bared. And that lingering energy, it made my skin crawl and smelled of stale lilacs.
Grasping my arm, Casteel righted himself as he turned to Kieran. “You okay?”
Kieran nodded as small pebbles rattled across the ground. I looked down as sound followed, a low rumble of thunder that came from below and grew louder and louder until the earth shook, and the Bone Temple trembled. The foundation of the altar Malec had been placed on shattered, sinking about a foot. Deep cracks raced out from the slab, forcing the wolven back. A gray mist seeped out of the fissures and carried the scent of stale lilacs.
Of death.
“This can be stopped!” Millicent shouted. “If it requires sacrifice—death—Malec hasn’t passed yet. He still breathes. We can’t—”
The cracks exploded, sending chunks of stone flying. I shouted as a large chunk hit Millicent in the side of the head, snapping her chin back. She staggered, her legs going out, but Malik twisted, catching her before she hit the floor. Blood coursed down the side of her face as Malik pressed his palm to the back of her head.
“She’ll be okay,” he said, his voice ragged. “She’ll be okay. She just needs to wake up.”
I hoped that was soon. The shaking made it difficult to stand, and the fractures spread, widening as they traveled the length of the floor, one heading straight for Casteel. He jumped, nimbly avoiding the gap, but several of the Royal Guards weren’t nearly as lucky. They disappeared into the fissures, their screams echoing until they passed beyond where no sound could travel. Pillars trembled as the cracks spread down the steps of both sides of the Bone Temple, where the Atlantian armies waited at our backs, and the Revenants stood to our front. Both sides scattered to avoid the widening cracks.
The shaking ceased, but the gray mist continued rising. The wolven crept forward, sniffing at the mist as a guard yelled, “Help! Help!”
Naill turned to where the guard held the edge of a crevice, the man’s fingers bleached white. “Godsdamn it,” he grunted, starting forward—