My mind whirled, searching for answers. I tuned out Hazel, tuned out Tanit’s crying. I did my best to tune out Kur’s rampage, vaguely aware that he’d moved away from us, that he was ripping things from the ground—the iron, the spikes, glass breaking, tearing through the garden like a furious god.
I stared down at Adonis, tracing my fingers over his chest again. A faint spark of hope lit in my mind. This death wasn’t the result of dragons or fire. Adonis’s death came from magic. And magic could always be undone, right?
If this was supposed to be a gift from the Old Gods, it was a gift I wanted to return.
I wanted to know exactly what Adonis had known. I wanted to know everything about the Stones of Zahar and the Bringer of Light.
I wiped the back of my hand across my face to clear away the rain and tears.
Nearby, Kur was ripping human bones from the garden.
“Kur!” I shouted. “I need your help!”
“With what?” he snarled, flashing a hint of sharp teeth.
“Can you read Phoenician?”
Stark pain shone from his dark eyes. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
“I need you to help me learn everything that Adonis knew about the Bringer of Light. About the Old Gods,” I shouted. “This isn’t where his story ends. I’m sure of it.”
Chapter 36
I slammed through the door into the bedroom where we’d been staying. Behind me, Kur carried Adonis’s body into the room. Hazel sauntered in behind the two demons. At our arrival, Drakon yelped, fluttering his wings frantically.
My heart thundered against my ribs as I scrambled to find the book—tucked under the mattress, just where Adonis had left it. I pulled it out, and Kur laid Adonis’s body on the bed. Panicking, Drakon crawled over to his master, curling up on his body, wings fluttering.
Kur sat down on the edge of the bed, ignoring the chaos behind him. I handed the book to him, and he began paging through it, muttering to himself in an ancient language. “And Adonis read this?”
“He’s had it with him this whole time. He said he had it memorized. It’s the same one that Kratos keeps in his war room. He only told me part of it—he left out the bit about how the stones would kill the horsemen. He said he wanted to rule the celestial realm. Same thing he told you.” I shivered, my teeth chattering. I’d wanted to rid the earth of archangels, but this didn’t feel like a victory.
Kur gripped the book hard. “This book explains that the Bringer of Light can harness the magic of the Old Gods to repel archangels from the earth. And her magic will kill all the living horsemen of the apocalypse.”
Cold dread slid through my bones. Adonis had wanted me to act as his executioner. All along I’d thought he could lure me to my death through seduction, but I had it wrong. He’d been drawn to me precisely because he knew I could kill him.
Tanit tugged at her hair. “Of course he didn’t tell us this. We would have stopped him.”
There was a lot he hadn’t told them. He hadn’t mentioned how he kept the seal from opening. I’d been so sure that Adonis was only looking out for himself, that I’d failed to see the truth—Adonis had found a way to keep himself from slaughtering, to beat his curse.
There was still so much he hadn’t told me, too.
“His story isn’t finished,” I said again, more forcefully. Adrenaline and wild desperation surged. “I’m sure of it.”
Hazel leaned against the wall, her arms folded. “I told you we should have left things as they were.”
Fury bloomed in my chest. “Shut up, Hazel. I’m trying to think.” As it was, I could hardly hear my own thoughts over Tanit’s sobbing.
“What did he mean his soul was going to the underworld? Is it…is it the one he told me about? Where he was born?”
Kur nodded slowly. “The Old Gods have claimed the souls of the horsemen. This book is written by one of their followers, lauding the defeat of the horsemen. Praising the work of the Bringer of Light.” Contempt dripped from his words. “As you might imagine, there are no instructions on how to fix it.”
I closed my eyes, wracking my brain for everything I’d learned about the Old Gods. The poisonous herbs that grew where horsemen tread, the power I’d felt surging through the silver bough, so raw and overwhelming it had almost driven me insane. The Stones of Zahar, mined from the grotto where Adonis had been born. The entrance to the underworld...
“Afeka,” I whispered. “The stones want to be returned to Afeka.”
Kur looked up from the book. “What?”
I stared at him. “His soul is in the underworld, where the stones come from, right? And I could feel the stones’ desire to return there. They want to go back to Afeka.” As soon as I said the word, the stones pulsed in my hand, as if affirming what I was saying. “Any idea where it is, exactly?”
“Lebenon,” said Kur.
I nodded. “The Old Gods reside there. Maybe I can make a trade.”
Hazel’s expression was bleak. “Didn’t Adonis warn you that every god wants a sacrifice? I don’t think they’re into making trades.”
I glanced at Adonis, at his pendant that stood out like blood droplets against his tan skin. “The Old Gods want their magic rocks back. I can feel it, even now. Maybe they’ll give us just one soul in return.”
Hazel’s expression was dark. “Or maybe they’ll just kill you and take the stones.”
Tanit pointed at Adonis, tears streaking her cheeks. “You need to fix this.” Her voice was low, cold. “He thinks it was his job to sacrifice himself. It’s why he stayed with the feral fae so long.”
“I don’t understand.”
Fury seemed to ripple off Kur’s powerful body. “Only the fae could keep his powers in check. Before he could control them himself, his emotions could spread waves of death around him—plagues, earthquakes, a frost on the crops. Just by feeling intensely—by growing angry or loving another person—death rippled off of him. Only the fae knew how to contain it, with their close connection to the Old Gods.”
I felt the bone-deep chill of his words. He’d never wanted to kill, but death simply coiled out of him uncontrolled. I could hardly imagine the guilt, the stark isolation that must have plagued him all those years.
“Over time,” Kur continued, “Adonis learned to control it better. He grew into his powers, the way a fae learns to control her hunger. He wanted to keep the world from his destruction.” Sharp whorls of magic spilled from Kur’s golden body. “Same reason he carved himself up every time the seal started to break open.”
“You knew about that?” I asked.
“Of course I knew. I’ve known for centuries. Adonis always thought he needed to suffer in silence.”
I wrung my hands. “He and Kratos both said the same thing. Sacrifice the few to save the many. That was their angelic sense of morality.” I choked back the tears that threatened to rush out. I had to keep my thoughts clear. “I guess the horsemen were the sacrifices here. But I’m not going to let it end this way.”
Kur met my gaze, his eyes suddenly piercing, body tense. “Do everything you can to fix this. Do you understand, Bringer of Light?”
I met his gaze evenly. “I understand. I am the Bringer of Light. And I’m giving back the gift the gods have granted me.”