Chapter 15 15
ARIA'S POV
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. I don't think the messenger had finished speaking before he crumpled up.
A child. I had a child somewhere around here, stored in some kind of magical stasis box that just needed to be found. A child was produced from a life I barely recalled during one of my past lives, and here with me now was one of the four kings.
“No, that can’t be,” I breathed as I panned my gaze across each one. Ronan's golden eyes flared with shock. Draven looked whiter than he did normally. Kael visibly winced at the blow. And for once Lucien had no smart rejoinder.
“I promise, it’s very doable,” the messenger replied. Her shape felt more substantial now, less like ever-moving starlight and more the shape of a person. "I am called The Witness. I have lived long before the realms were shaped, observing, noting and remembering what others forget."
“If Celeste had birthed one, we’d have known,” Draven snapped. “We were with her all the time in those last days.”
"She didn't let you see it," The Witness said. “She knew what was coming, knew the Fifth King would play any hand he had against her. So she went on a ritual, one of the most complicated ever attempted. The woman casted a spell, and took the child out of time, living but not aging."
"Waiting for what?" I demanded.
"For you to return. The awakening of the child is connected to your own rebirth. But stasis isn't permanent. It is breaking down, and that’s part of why the Veil has been ripping. The life force of the child is attached to the very fabric of reality.”
Ronan moved up, body taut. “Which of us is actually the father?”
There was an almost sympathetic expression on The Witness's face. "I don't know. Celeste never revealed that information. Maybe she didn’t know herself, or maybe she decided not to say so to spare the strain it would cause.”
"Where is the child now?" The effort of constraining myself into the present was mistaken for resentment.
The Witness lifted her hand, and a crystal appeared in mid-air. It was clear, the size of the palm of my hand — and inside it flowed images that spun too fast to follow.
"The child is here," she whispered, and the images coalesced into one place. It was a temple, old and weather-worn, seemingly rapidly transitioning between four entirely different landscapes. “It’s located in a pocket dimension that touches all four realms. A place between places."
"How do we get there?" Draven asked.
"Together," The Witness said simply. “Only when all four realms are present and in agreement may the temple be entered.”
Before any of us could reply, The Witness started to disappear.
"Wait!" I called out. "How do we protect the child? The Fifth King, how do we stop him?"
“Those are questions you’ll have to find out for yourselves” The Witness replied, her voice trailing away. “But I’ll say this much: the child is more than he seems. And the choice you will have to make is going to be the most difficult any one of you has ever had to face.”t
Then she disappeared, leaving the crystal to float in the air. Lucien caught it on the way down.
"Well," he said finally. "This just keeps getting better."
They spent most of the day traveling to get to temple. Silently, they went home – each one with his or her own thoughts. The country was queer, changing at once about us in the peculiarities of other regions.
I was sandwiched between Ronan and Draven, Kael at my back, Lucien up front. They’d instinctually created a protective circle around me.
"Are you okay?" Ronan asked quietly.
"I don't know," I admitted. “What is that supposed to mean? Turns out I have a kid I never knew. One of us is your papá, but neither I nor anyone else knows which."
“We’ll work it out,” Ronan said. "We always do."
Kael halted where he was walking, ahead of us. Jaw tight, fists balled, teeth set in a grimace.
"Kael?" I called out. "Are you okay?"
He glanced at me, pain and envy written on his face.
"No," he said honestly. "I'm not okay. The notion that you preferred one of us so fully you bore a child with them makes me jealous in ways I can’t manage.”
“We don’t know that’s what occurred,” I argued.
"Does it matter?" Kael's voice was sharp. “We know that two of us are connected with one of you and the rest aren’t,” she said.
But before I could answer, Draven screamed. "We're here."
And there it was: the temple, majestic and devastating. It would have been pretty in its day, but it had seen better days. Columns had fallen, carvings had become obliterated and vines had taken back a great deal of the structure.
We stepped in together, and just like that it was cool inside. Internally the work was a vast single chamber with a domed ceiling. Wall after wall was decorated with murals.
I got closer for a good look at them and sucked in my breath. They told a story. My tale, or perhaps it was Celeste's tales.
The first panel depicted Celeste learning she was pregnant, her hands to her stomach, and her face a blend of bliss and terror. The second was of the four kings around her, all looking protective and hopeful. They looked happy for her.
“This isn’t what I remember,” Ronan said. “We wanted to kill each other by the end.”
“Perhaps that was after,” Lucien said.
The next panels confirmed his suspicion. They depicted Celeste’s mounting horror as she realized what this meant. Showed her consulting with people, desperately trying to reach a way to protect the child. Showed them, the four kings, in argument, coming apart.
The last mural brought a lump to my chest. It featured Celeste in a lone ritual. An infant cradled in her arms, tears coursing down her face while she laid the child into what looks like some sort of glowing container.
"She tied the life of the child to the very fabric of four realms," Kael took in the symbols. "If the domains perish, the child is dead. Et si l’enfant vit, les royaumes survivent. It's a perfect failsafe."
“Not to mention a lovely trap,” Draven said, frowning. “The Fifth King can’t shatter the realms without slaying the child. But he can manipulate the child to control Aria.”
"Where is it?" I asked.
” Lucien gestured to the middle of the room. "There."
At the very middle of the chamber, hovering in mid-air, was a crystal coffin. It was perhaps four feet long, perfectly clear, and inside I could make out a small shape.
As usual, my legs started running before my brain caught up. The rest followed, but I hardly noticed. I could only hear the contents within.
A child. Maybe he was two years old, with this soft face that was vaguely familiar. Dark hair, like mine, but with ever-changing streaks of black, brown, gold and silver. The characteristics that appeared to include a mixture of all four kings.
“It’s gorgeous,” I murmured, extending a hand out to the crystal.
“Hang on,” Draven said, catching my wrist. “We don’t know what we are going to be tomorrow.”
But the spot on my wrist was already burning. The four sigils seemed to brighten and I felt a tug stronger than anything that the bond with the kings had given.
"I have to touch it," I said.
Draven paused, then slowly let go of my wrist. I leaned forward until my nails met the crystal detail.
I felt a surge of power like nothing that I had ever experienced. I was deluged with knowledge, memories that were not mine – but Celeste’s.
Then the child's eyes opened.
They were silver, and they swirled with light. The kid made eye contact with me and I could tell it recognized me.
It spoke with a voice that was much too old for a body so small.
"Mother," it said. "You came. I've been waiting so long."
“I am here,” I whispered through tears. “I am so, so sorry it has taken this long.”
“The Fifth King knows I’m here,” continued the child. “He’s been looking for me since you came back. Now he has found me, and he is coming.
Ice ran down my spine. "How much time do we have?"
"Minutes, perhaps. Not more." The child looked at the four kings. "Fathers. You came too."
"Fathers?" Kael repeated. "Plural?"
“Mother’s magic pieced me together from all of you,” the child said. "Not from one, but from four. She could not decide, so she decided all of you. I have five parents.”
But before anyone could really process that information, the temperature dropped even lower. Shadows collected at the edges of the room.
“They’re here,” the child muttered softly. Superb eb, you must decide now. You can save the realms or you can save me. But you can't do both."
"No," I said immediately. “There has to be something else.”
"There is," the child said. "But you won't like it. You can suck me back into you. Take my strength, take the piece of the Fifth King's soul Mother put in me. But to do so means that you have darkness in your heart.”
The walls exploded inward.
Shadows flowed through the rents, thick and ravenous. Behind them lurked demon-spawned monsters of dark and malicious intent. And at their head, a form in white and gold.
Large gray wings spread wide, and a fighter there—another Fae.
Kael emitted something like a punch sound. "Seraphine."
The Fae warrior smiled. "Hello, my king. Did you miss me?"
"You," Kael breathed. "You're the traitor."
“Traitor is an ugly word,” Seraphine said. The Fifth King made me an offer I could not refuse. I just needed to facilitate his finding what he wanted.”
She pointed to the crystal coffin.
"And now I have."