She shuddered, hoping he was joking.
“Where are these thousands of soldiers you spoke of?” She didn’t see anyone at all as he guided her forward through the tunnels.
“Above.” That was his only answer.
Eventually they came to a set of carved steps that was very different from other areas of the underground labyrinth. Everywhere else, the rock formations were natural and uneven. Here, things were smooth and polished like marble. Transparent crystals in the walls danced in the light of many candles, creating a flurry of reflections. It was lovely, and Helaina found it hard to look away.
In the middle of the elegance was a stone pillar, a simple ivory dagger resting on top. No jewels or lavish embellishments, only a milk-white blade.
“What is that?”
The moment the question left her lips, she felt a presence behind her.
“The bone dagger.” She didn’t want to turn and face him, the owner of that low voice. “It can be your salvation, if you stop fighting us every damned step of the way.”
Helaina instinctively put a palm on the blade at her hip.
“Why is she armed?” Theodon growled.
Manos shrugged. “She wouldn’t come otherwise.”
“Did she eat at least, or did she argue that point as well?” Theodon asked him.
“Quit talking about me like I’m not here.” She didn’t want to acknowledge him, but his dominating behavior was beyond frustrating. She heard him move closer. With every step he took, the feeling down her spine intensified, like a group of caterpillars were crawling underneath her skin.
From the side she could see Manos nodding the confirmation that she in fact had eaten her meal. Why did he care? It wasn’t for her own well-being, she was certain. They wanted something from her and needed her able-bodied to get it, that was all.
“What does it do?” Helaina steered the conversation back to the strange dagger at the center of the room. There was something about it that was alive, a hum of a presence that wanted to make itself known.
Manos was eager to reply. “Every member of our army comes here as a mortal, and leaves a demigod because of that blade.” He gave a nod in Theodon’s direction, something like gratitude crossing his face. “Brahm entrusted it to Theo in the beginning.”
“So Brahm made it?” It was a reasonable guess—a primordial deity could make relics of great power.
“No, not Brahm. It is written that the first god to ever exist carved the blade from his own ribs. A god whose name was lost with time. How Brahm came to own it is a story before our time, long before Lynor was created. Taking your life with that dagger offers your soul a path, not to the ether, not to the six. When it penetrates mortal flesh, it becomes a beacon. Your ancestral god calls your soul to their own realm, to offer you a trial. If you pass, you are deemed worthy, and they send you back, no longer mortal but like us.”
Helaina swallowed. “What if you fail the trial?”
Manos’s eyes turned glassy. “You don’t come back.”
Helaina’s head shook back and forth in disbelief. “But if Brahm gave it to Theodon, that would mean he was there?—”
“In the beginning, yes,” Theodon finished for her.
He wasn’t just old. Their leader wasancient.
Something in her memory connected—something he’d said while she was nearly bleeding to death.
After you become what I need, then you can die.
“You wantmeto use it?” she breathed out. “That’s why you took me.”
“When you’re ready, yes. Your curse has given you power in your mortal body. If you pass Ures’s trial, you could come back untouchable.”
Helaina made a mocking sound, like he’d told a bad joke. His face remained serious.
“You’re not kidding?”
“Not even a little.”
