Her kishion vaulted himself at the other man, his face a rictus of fury. The two lunged and feinted at each other, grunting and stabbing at each other’s bodies. Maia slipped around them to enter the blackness of the tunnel unobstructed. She did not have a kystrel this time, but the walls were still glowing, a mossy green light emanating from the spiderweb sigils carved into the stone. She moved cautiously down the tunnel—dreading the confrontation with Murer, but determined to follow the Medium’s guidance. As she walked, she found a junction she remembered from her first journey to this place, one with an archway that went up instead of down. From that archway, a breeze carrying the scent of flowers and pine trees wafted against her face. She remembered it vividly. When she had last come there, whispers had warned her against taking that path. Those whispers, she now realized, had come from Ereshkigal. There was something important down there, but she felt the Medium tug her back down the other path toward the hetaera’s lair.
She reached a set of stone steps carved into the rock and headed down them, descending deeper into the gloom. It ended at the stone doors carved with the shape of the kystrel. She paused, panting for breath, flooded with memories. This was where she had received the brand on her shoulder. This was where she had been deceived. Her thoughts prickled with apprehension.
The doors were shut.
As Maia approached, she felt a wall of blackness slam into her. Even with the massive power of the Medium surging inside her, the blow was almost forceful enough to knock her to her knees. She was surrounded by a miasma of doubt, despair, fear, and self-loathing. The mark on her shoulder began to burn.
You challenge me in my dominion? You foolish, insolent child! I am the Queen of the Unborn. I am the Goddess of this world. Kneel before me!
The compulsion was so powerful that Maia staggered. She felt the stones shuddering around her, trembling under the weight of the force being expelled.
You have no power here! the voice screamed at her.
But Maia felt something build within her, filling her with strength. She lifted herself and staggered forward. The doors were so close . . .
You cannot defeat a hetaera, said Ereshkigal vengefully. She is mine! She is my pawn!
Maia felt dizziness and sickness roar inside her. The sensation of her shoulder burning was painfully hot, but she forced herself to reach out and shove the doors with her hands.
The Leerings tried to resist her, but she forced them to obey with her will. The doors slid open smoothly, grating on the stone floor. Immediately a haze of steam and vapor rushed out.
She saw the hetaera Leering in the midst of the churning pool down below. Standing there, gown pulled low off her shoulder, was Murer, her eyes glowing silver. The serpent Leering glared red with heat, the light glowing off Murer’s still-untouched skin. She stared at Maia with hate and loathing, her painted lips pulled back into a snarl.
“No, Murer!” Maia called out in warning.
They have huddled together like frightened children, believing themselves safe behind walls of stone. There are Pry-rian crows pecking at our flanks. Even with the army of Paeiz and Dahomey joining them, we outnumber their mass at least three to one. The odds are closer than I would have preferred, but I am near enough to see their detestable Muirwood Abbey. I will break it down. We have over four hundred and fifty Dochte Mandar gathered here and another four hundred novices with kystrels. The abbey will burn tonight.
—Corriveaux Tenir, Victus of Dahomey
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Murer’s Truth
The expression of hate on Murer’s face sent shards of blackness into Maia’s soul. Her silver eyes were fierce and wild, like a lioness guarding its prey. The waters by the Leering churned, and the pool swirled as if circling a drain. The edges of Murer’s skirts were damp.
“You came here to stop me?” Maia’s stepsister challenged. “You were a fool to walk away from so much power. I will be the empress, Maia! I will rule them all.”
Maia walked into the humid chamber, feeling sweat immediately gather along her brow. She passed the broken skeletons huddled near the door, victims who had doomed themselves in an effort to learn the hetaera’s secrets, and started down the ledge along the perimeter, confident of her footing since she had crossed it before.
“You would rule over a graveyard,” Maia said firmly. “You saw the Leering amidst the bones, did you not? That is the destiny that awaits you. Ereshkigal only destroys. She cannot create.”
“You dare speak her name!” Murer shrieked. “She is the Queen of Storms. She is the Mother of Kings. This is her domain, maston. You have no authority here!”
“Murer, step away from the Leering,” Maia pleaded, trying to close the distance between them quickly. She heard the stone doors slide shut above her, trapping her inside. She stared at the flaming brand of the entwined serpents in the livid rock, so near Murer’s exposed skin.
“You would deny me another throne?” Murer said with venom in her voice. “You already stole mine from me.”
“It was never yours by right. Please, Sister! I know what it is to bear that brand. It is a torture and an agony I would wish on no person. Even you.”
“Was I ever your enemy, Maia? Was I as cruel to you as Mother? Did I afflict you as Lady Shilton did? I left you alone. And you repaid me by having your husband humiliate me in front of everyone!”