“If she’s from House Aten, how did she know to call us?” Cyrus asked. Every House had their own teams to handle such situations.
“Says the phone number came to her in a vision. It’s written on the bathroom mirror in blood, hers.”
Cyrus approached her slowly. She rocked, mumbling something he couldn’t make out. The silver fragments were some kind of blades stitched into the fabric. As she rubbed her arms and legs the blades cut her alabaster skin.
“Ereba, you asked to speak with me,” Cyrus said.
The female pointed to the symbols on the wall. “Ryket, Lut, Orsid…”
What was she saying?
“Aten,” she said, staring at the floor. The symbol missing from the wall.
“You know the names of the ancients,” Cyrus said, kneeling beside her. “All of them? How? No one knows all of them.”
“The immortals know.” She continued to cut herself. Blood streamed down her limbs.
The immortals knew much that they kept to themselves, but they claimed to recall only one ancient’s name.
“Aten,” she repeated.
“Where is Aten’s symbol? Why did you draw all the others and not that one?”
“Aten has no symbol. Not one of the Fallen. The first mighty ancient discovered, yes, but slain, not forsaken, not cursed.”
Cyrus sat back and looked at Spero. “What is she talking about?”
Spero shook his head and shrugged. Cyrus knew Ereba implied the immortals, the only source of Kindred’s history of creation, were liars. House Sekhem had long accused them of manipulating facts and distorting the truth to serve their own means, but Ereba had just hinted that the very House of Aten had been built upon a lie.
“Twelve Fallen, not thirteen.” Ereba pointed to his symbol. “Ishmam.”
Ice water trickled down his spine, the chill spreading to his heart.
Then Ereba pointed at him. “Ishmam.”
“I’m Cyrus. You wanted to see me.” He itched to dig deeper into this mystery of Aten, and why all of their records spoke of a thirteenth symbol, if none had ever existed. Why would the immortals name their House after an ancient who was slain? And slain by whom? Or maybe the dark veil had robbed this oracle of her sanity. The dark affliction twisted the mind.
She reached for his hand, but he instinctively withdrew. “Some of the images are distorted, cloudy. Only the phone number, your name and your
kabashem’s
face burn bright. Lovely, lovely violet eyes. If I touch you, I can see more clearly.”
Cyrus offered his hand.
She grabbed his wrist with bloody fingers and shut her eyes. Shaking, she twisted her head from side to side. The lights in the room flickered and the curtains swayed as if there were an undetectable breeze. Her hand slipped from his arm. “Oh…so much pain, so much pain.”
“What did you see?” Cyrus leaned forward on one knee.
“Darkness and a river of blood will follow you. Death is coming. A hunter seeking. Serenity is prey. Beware the moon.” Rocking faster, Ereba dragged her fingernails down her cheeks. “You will kneel before one who can only feel pain. When she asks, say no.”
Blood pounded as Cyrus’s veins constricted. According to legend, the immortals felt pain on a magnified scale, but only pain? He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Asks what?”
Ereba screamed, tearing at her hair. Cyrus released her and she resumed rocking.
“She wants you to live…but say no…say no.”
“Please tell me something, anything that can help me.”
“Friends cannot be trusted. Enemies, in the distance, will come to your
kabashem’s
aid. A fine line between light and darkness. Ishmam’s soul must be made whole, the redeemer born, or you shall both die. Death is coming. All eyes are on you. All eyes…all eyes…all eyes.”
Dread stabbed at his chest. “Who is coming?”
She met his gaze. “All of them. The gates of hell will open. They shall descend like locusts, seeking to snuff out your flames. I’m so sorry.” Ereba looked at Spero. “I am ready now. Please, end my suffering.”
“Not yet,” Cyrus said, holding up a hand to stop Spero. “Tell me more. I beg you.”
“There is nothing more.” Ereba looked around him at Spero. “I called the number, you came and you promised to end my pain. I’m ready.”
Cyrus stood and backed away. Spero drew a dagger from his holster. When he finished, Ereba lay silent and lifeless. Her pale face, slick with sweat, was peaceful.
“Before I got here, did she say anything else?” Cyrus asked Spero.
The warrior bowed his head. The others glanced at each other. A secret passed between them. One they didn’t want to share.
“Spero, what did she say?”
The warrior lifted his head, drawing in a deep breath. “She offered each of us a reading.” He hesitated. “She told all of us that we were going to die trying to protect you and your
kabashem
. None of us will live to see the first bloom of next year’s spring.”
Cyrus swallowed deeply, choking back sadness. Grief over lives not yet lost pummeled him. He looked around the room at the
vadeletori
under his command, lingering on the face of each brother and sister: Ptolemy, Hotep, Micah, Beset, Amon, Carin and Spero.
“If any of you wish to return to Herut and serve as battle-guard, instead of remaining with me, I will understand,” Cyrus said.
Beset stepped forward. “Ereba assured us we shall each have a warrior’s death. We are with you until the end.”
The rest of them nodded in agreement without reservation.
Love for his kinsmen welled in his heart, so great he had to suppress tears. “So be it.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
In a huff, Serenity marched downstairs to the meditation room, itching to wring Cyrus’s neck. The door was closed. Normally, Abbadon left it open during their sessions.
“It’s not that easy.” Talus spoke in a raised voice from inside the room.
Abbadon said something, but Serenity couldn’t make it out.
“I can’t feel her! I don’t need to adjust anything. There’s something wrong with her!”
She could tell Abbadon was speaking, but she couldn’t hear what he said.
“That’s not true!” Talus screamed.
A second later, the door opened. Talus looked flustered, her cheeks burned crimson and her chest heaved. When she saw Serenity, she cast her eyes to floor and hurried down the hall.
Serenity followed behind her. “Talus, please wait a minute. I want to apologize if I hurt you earlier.” She still needed to find a way to mend things with her, instead of making it worse. “I’d like for us to get along. I hope we can be friends.”
“Why do you want to be my friend?”
“I want to get along with everyone.”
“Being friendly and being friends are two different things. It’s best to befriend someone you like or have something in common with,” Talus said curtly, still headed for the door. “Cyrus is the reason we’ve been brought together, but he’s not enough to form the basis of a friendship.”
“It was wrong for me to lash out at you the way I did. I’m sorry. Please, I really do want us to get along.”
Talus stopped and faced her.
Serenity took a deep breath. “I think we started off on the wrong foot. Can we just take a moment to have a normal conversation, maybe get to know each other a little?”
Talus leaned against the wall and stared at her, waiting.
“I never thanked you for decorating my room and for the clothes. You did a great job.”
“You’re welcome,” Talus said with a tight jaw.
“How did you know what brands and sizes to buy? Or even what art supplies I use.”
Talus rolled her eyes. “That was easy. I followed you while you went shopping one day. I bought all of the same stuff you purchased, just in different colors. The art supplies took more finesse. I bribed the cashier who checked you out to show me what you bought. He suggested the drawing table and easel.”
The items in her closet had looked familiar, but she hadn’t realized they were the same things she’d purchased a few weeks earlier. “Well, you did a fantastic job decorating my room. I really appreciate all of the effort.”
“Cyrus described what he wanted it to look like,” Talus said, sounding exasperated by the chit-chat. “I gave him swatches and pictures, and he picked out what he liked. He agonized over the color of the walls for two days, as if the difference between frosted celadon and winsome sea were a matter of life and death.” She sighed. “He thought since you were an
artist
, you’d notice every detail and insisted the shade of the room had to be just right.” She waved a dismissive hand in the air.
Serenity swallowed the first ugly words that popped in her mind and groped for the right ones. “Cyrus mentioned some symphony gala coming up. I could use a new dress and you’re such a great shopper. Maybe we could go shopping together and put all of this behind us. I’d appreciate your help. My fashion sense is limited to jeans and sneakers.”
Talus snickered. “Go shopping, bond over a little silk and satin and become BFFs? Maybe afterwards we could grab a couple of iced lattes and sing
Kumbaya
?” Her snide smile faded. “Let’s not and say we did. I’ll find you a great dress and leave it in your room.”
“What is your problem with me?”
“Where exactly should I begin?” It was a rhetorical question that didn’t require a response, but Talus stood milking the moment with a venomous grin on her face. “You’re Blessed, yet you act like an ordinary human. When Cyrus told me you were an artist, I pictured your work hanging in a gallery, making people weep. Instead you’re slumming it as a tattoo artist.” Her upper lip curled up in repugnance. “You even debased yourself with a human male. You blame me for hurting Evan, when it’s your own fault for degrading yourself in the first place.”
Talus pushed off the wall in a fluid move and pounced. “When we go to House Herut they’ll treat you like royalty. Cassian and I won’t even have the luxury of being treated like second-class citizens. To them, we’re just runts, common trash. You have a powerful
kabashem
who’d die for you and you’re not even fit to hold his hand. You can’t even control your
ingenium
. You’re just a big disappointment. I bet your womb couldn’t even produce a child.”
Serenity’s hand shook at her side, but she restrained herself from slapping Talus. She had no witty comeback and fumbled for the grace to bear such vehemence with dignity. “You’ve spent your entire life as a runt, being looked down upon and judged. I can see why you would seize the first opportunity to do the same to someone else.” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “But it would’ve been fortunate for both of us if you could’ve recognized some of my human interests as a way for us to bond instead of cause for contempt.”
Talus turned on her heels and left the house, slamming the front door.
The brutal hand-to-hand combat session had been gentler than the verbal beating she had just endured. Did Cyrus feel an inkling of the same? Was he disappointed in her as well?
Tears stung her eyes. She didn’t even want to be a mother, but what if she couldn’t be a mother? What if her womb wasn’t fit to carry a child?
Serenity traipsed into the meditation room. Abbadon smiled as she sat in front of him, hoping he’d say something about Talus, but he just quietly stared at her.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help overhearing Talus. Why does she think there’s something wrong with me?”
“Talus is simply having some difficulties.”
“Because of me.”
“We’re all tested in different ways so we can grow and reach our full potential. It’s easy to blame the format of the test if we’re failing, but the format isn’t responsible for our performance. You are not responsible for her difficulties.”
“I feel bad about this situation with her. I can’t seem to connect with her. I wish we could be closer, be friends.”
“Why?”
There it was again. The same question and she still didn’t know how to answer it. “She’s important to Cyrus. He loves her like a daughter.”
“What if Talus had come to us six months ago instead of twenty-five years ago, and Cyrus didn’t look upon her as a daughter? Would you still want to be close to her?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know why. When I met you and Cassian, I felt an immediate connection with both of you. It was natural and I wanted to embrace it. But when I met Talus it wasn’t the same. The connection wasn’t there.”
She struggled to relax and wipe her feelings from her face. “It wasn’t until after I met you both that I realized I was disappointed I didn’t have the same feeling with Talus. And that was before I knew how Cyrus felt about them. I feel we should be closer, but something’s missing.”
“All living things on this planet are connected through energy. Picture a web. At the center is the Creator, unconditional love. Every being has a web. For us, Kindred are within the inner part of the circle, humanity and all living organisms fill and complete the outer sections of the web, but it’s all connected.”
She acknowledged what he said with a nod.
“For Kindred, our connection to each other, to the collective, is tangible. We each give off energy vibrations. We can plug into those vibrations and feel connected. When you and Cyrus are in the same room together, not touching, can you feel an energy connection with him?”