Dark of the Moon (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 9) by Sonya Bateman

Author:Sonya Bateman [Bateman, Sonya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-09-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

There was no endless field of grass waiting this time. The portal led directly into the temple, exiting in the same place the gateway had been at one end of the long, column-lined room. The white glow remained in the arched doorway when I stepped through, but I would bet there was no longer a rip in reality hovering at the edge of the Valdyr Forest.

The torches on the columns were only lit about halfway up, leaving the far end of the room drenched in darkness. And the moonless, star-strewn sky sprawled above it all.

“So, this is the Sídhe Marbh,” Uriskel remarked when I joined them. “How impressive.”

“Is it not to your liking, young prince?” a mocking, sonorous voice boomed from the shadows. “Certainly you, of all my progeny, would prefer this to the ostentation trappings of nobility.”

At the sound of the voice, Uriskel started to shiver. The color drained from him until he was almost paper-white. He fell to one knee and pressed his forehead to his bent leg, fisting both hands against the floor.

Cobalt swallowed and slowly folded himself into the same posture.

Guess I probably should’ve bowed the first time I was here.

Cérunos chuckled from the darkness. “It pleases me that you would prostrate yourselves before me. Now, rise and approach.” As he spoke, the torches flared down the corridor until the light reached him, once again revealing everything but his face.

At first neither of them moved. Cobalt finally twitched and lifted his head, and spent a long time staring at the massive form on the night-sky throne before he pushed to his feet.

“Brother,” he murmured, resting a hand on Uriskel’s trembling back. “Can you stand?”

Uriskel offered no response. But when Cobalt moved to help him up, he batted his hand away with a choked breath, and then returned his fist to the floor. “Give me a moment,” he said, his wavering voice muffled against his leg.

Cérunos shifted slightly, the movement bringing a soft cascade of clinks from the metal rings on his antlers. “What is it that you fear, child of Arcadia?”

Uriskel raised his head with obvious effort and looked upon the god.

“Eternity,” he whispered.

So that was his secret.

He didn’t spell it out, and he didn’t have to. Even I understood what he meant. Most of Uriskel’s long life had been a constant stream of suffering, and he didn’t look forward to more of the same in the afterlife — where it would be never-ending. With proof that Cérunos existed, he couldn’t deny that eternity did too.

He’d never cared about forgiveness. He just wanted oblivion.

“Eternity does not judge, nor does it punish,” Cérunos said in an apparently atypical burst of helpfulness. “Each of you holds the power to choose the path of your own forever. Choose wisely, and you will exist as though the shadow of suffering has never darkened your soul.”

Uriskel didn’t look like he was buying that, but he managed to get to his feet.

“Approach,” Cérunos repeated.

We started cautiously down the hall, with me slightly in the lead, and I felt like we were in a bad production of The Wizard of Oz.

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