A bitter smile lifted my lips.Noctis, of the night. I knew that was what the mortals had started to call me. For the night held everything they feared. For a while, I had contemplated insisting they use my true name. But perhaps it was for the best that they should fear me. It was not as if I had any use for their silly adoration.
To my surprise, Baradaz did not leave at once after saving her Elves from my terrifying presence. Instead, she remained, scrutinizing me with an unreadable expression on her face.
I motioned at the butterfly in my hand. “Why didn’t you bring it back to life?” I asked. “It should be an easy task for someone giftedwith so much power by our Maker.” There was something about her that always compelled me to needle her.
A flicker in her gaze. Could that be fear? “Death is a part of life,” she answered. “I think it is better not to interfere with such things.”
Maker, her powers were wasted on her. “Of course.” A touch of my magic made the butterfly flare up with the darkest of flames, leaving only ashes drifting off in the breeze.
Baradaz breathed deeply, her eyes not leaving me. “Walk with me,” she said.
I fell into step with her by instinct, my astonishment overshadowing my urge to decline.
“I heard you built yourself a home,” she stated as we made our way along the brook. I indulged her, intrigued against my will. This was the first time we had talked alone since I had come to Lyrheim. But I did not believe for a moment that there was no deeper purpose behind it.
For a while, Baradaz quite convincingly played the demure maiden, all gentle smiles and a soft voice, treading lightly in my presence.
“Your brother told me you know about Darkness,” she said after a brief conversation, her tone unconcerned, as if it mattered naught. I did not let the pretense fool me. I had noticed the sharpness in her gaze, the slight tension around her eyes. This was the true reason she had stayed.
“Did he now?” I replied with faint amusement, not revealing even a hint of my vindictive satisfaction. How nice of the little lamb to come to the wolf so willingly.
“Is it true?” By the Allfather, she was practically begging to be devoured, wasn’t she? All eagerness, that bright gaze fixed on me with a nearly unsettling intensity.
“What if it is?” I said, giving her a provoking smile. “What use could the Lady of Light have for such knowledge from someone like me?”
I was aware of what the other Aurea said behind my back, how they mocked my attempts at greatness. Ignorance born of fear. She had not suddenly decided she wanted to know more about the aspect I ruled on a whim.
Baradaz hesitated, her fingers nervously twisting a strand of her fiery hair. “I want to find a way to illuminate the night sky,” she explained. “To guide those lost in the dark.” But of course. She wanted to aid those silly, weak mortals who were so bloody afraid of the Darkness. “But I…”
She trailed off, suddenly insecure, straight little teeth worrying her full lower lip. Her vulnerability was almost endearing, a stark contrast to her usual composed demeanor.
To my surprise, she had ignited my curiosity. “You need to understand both Light and Darkness to achieve that. A difficult dilemma.”
A trace of unease crossed her face as she grasped the implications of my words. Not a foolish, pretty butterfly, that one, like some of the other female Aurea, but a queen bee, her sting deadly when provoked. Her eyes quickly hardened, full of a nearly ravenous hunger, determination replacing doubt. Knowledge and power—a combination too tempting to resist.
“Can you teach me or not?” she asked.
The little queen was demanding. I told myself I hated it. Time to ready a glittering net to catch her like every clever spider did when hunting for prey.
I leaned in closer than I should have, my voice a whisper at her ear, savoring the way she shivered in response. “Of course, sister. You’re my brother’s bride. All you have to do is ask.”
CHAPTER
14
THE GOLDEN DAYS OF LYRHEIM
1800 years after the making of Aron-Lyr
Rada
Belekoroz was even more insufferable the second time I approached him amid the verdant hills of Lyrheim. I had to run to catch up to him as he strode out of the King’s Hall after a meeting of the Council, eager to escape the presence of our fellow Aurea. When I called out for him to wait, he was all smug grin, displaying too-pointy teeth and sly, glittering dark eyes that tracked my every move. Like a snake lurking in the fresh green grass around us, biding its time until its prey was within striking range.
And I was surrendering myself to his mercy. Or at least I was pretending to. I knew Belekoroz was clever. He would never act on the resentment I had caught in his gaze so often if he did not think he had the upper hand.
“Tell me what you know about Darkness.” I was fiercer than usual in his presence, demanding instead of polite, unwilling to grant him the satisfaction of realizing he unsettled me.
Something stirred to life in those fathomless eyes. A dark curiosity, a sharp-toothed hunger that made a sudden awareness inside meunfurl like a moth at the beginning of dusk, when the first shadows of night drifted in.
