Page 129 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

Kora swallowed. Hard.

“Shit.”

“Care to fill us in?” Aerion’s head cocked, his wise eyes scrutinising.

Well, it was now or never. Kora recited Barron’s prophecy to them, along with Agatha’s additional layer of vague confusion about the Dark One and a consuming darkness. Raiden’s entire body stiffened, and he stepped away, studying the flag in his large hands.

“Another reason it’s best to be here,” Raiden spoke hoarsely. “Only the archive will have books that cover that kind of prophecy.” His stare whipped to Aerion’s and his eyes widened, his fingers shakily grabbing the crystal glass.

“Stop having a mental conversation,” Kora quipped.

“Haizea’s rift,” Raiden answered quickly. “If Barron is targeting rifts, the Aurora Gap is the last one left.”

“He’s going to attack,” Aryn sank down by the firepit. “History is repeating itself.”

“And we’ve left Skylar,” Aerion whispered. “Father has left home, too. Mistros is vulnerable.”

Raiden shook his head. “Leto and Cassidy are out there still. They can warn us. We have time. We can make it back in time.” Raiden’s repetition did nothing to ease the rising anxiety in the room. “We don’t know where Barron will strike first, it could be here.”

“Or he could try to brave the Lifeless Waters,” Kora supplied.

No one ever sailed into the Lifeless Waters. Anything beyond the islands and continent was a one-way ticket to death. There was just nothing. No land, no life. Rumours had spread in the past that even the air above those waters could kill, worse than the Sulfire Sea.

Raiden grimaced. “He’d invade from the Infernal Highland if he did. First, we need to unpick these prophecies, find anything on dark magic. We can’t go after Barron blind.”

“You don’t think that’s the real reason why Father has fucked off to the other side of the mountains?” Aerion raised a brow.

Raiden cursed, his crystal eyes freezing, glazing over. “If he has, I’m killing him myself for lying to us.”

“Let’s hope we find something,” Aerion answered. “I fear there may be more darkness on the horizon than we anticipated.”

57

Kora

Two nights had passed at Skybell, and Kora wasn’t making any headway. She groaned as she flicked through her seventh tome, her fingers cramping, her eyeballs spinning. Words no longer made sense, and she was losing the comprehension to read Devanian. Agatha would have been furious.

At least Kora’s chambers were luscious. More so than Windspire. Walls made of sleek stone instead of moonstone, with aged furniture that was something out of the fantasy tales she’d read. A grand four-poster bed, with pillows larger than her torso. All furnishings were simple, a mix of cream and silvery blues. The only gripe was that the bathing chamber was communal, and there were no handmaidens here to guard the door every time she bathed.

Yet, her heart raced with a small thrill whenever she thought Raiden might walk in. Or twist with dread whenever she heard Aerion giggling outside the door. She’d drop dead if he and Aryn ever decided to walk in for a watery rendezvous.

Kora fidgeted in one of the velvet chairs of the library as her neck ached from bowing her head. Aerion and Aryn had settled across the library, a towering stack of books between them about bonds and dark magic. Aryn turned pages with rapid speed, apparently his magic extended to the rate his eyeballs could read. Aerion’s feet were propped up on an identical wooden table, yawning every minute that passed. As she flicked onto the next page of what’d been so far the most boring historical record, she paused.

It’s always been thought that Thanos was the first god. The bringer of life and death. He created the world, and within it, the elements bloomed. He is the father of the gods, the all that be all.

Kora’s skin prickled. Thanos was the leader of the gods? Their father? Their creator? And she’d had a fucking therapy session with him?

Calypso came next, filling the barren world with oceans. And then Thanos was no longer alone. Together they ruled, her stormy seas so destructive that any life trying to survive was shepherded into Thanos’ realm for nurture. But soon it wasn’t enough, the raging ocean broken apart by erupting lands. Kaiah blossomed like the spurt of the thickest tree, their gift bringing vegetation and colour to the bleak tempests. Thanos’ creations collided, becoming an unstoppable force of nature.

Calypso was depicted as so . . . ruthless. Kora’s mouth twisted. Perhaps it was hereditary.

The two gods were wild, their tempers flaring so bright the world became uninhabitable. Thanos’ control between the balance of life and death slipped, and thus Haizea arrived. Her winds soothed the lands and oceans, giving way to new creations of life that lived on her air—humans. She was the sister counterpart to Thanos, the giver and breather of sustainable life, so that her creations’ souls could journey to Thanos’ keep.

Surely Haizea wasn’t really the creator of humans? Had they not always existed?

But her creations cried out for more. Kaiah’s and Calypso’s reign became ruthless, a battle for who was the most revered god, who had the most control of the world they helped create. The humans suffered in-between, and so the gods agreed to grant them their first gift. Igniso, the God of Eternal Flame.

Kora rubbed her eyes. Was this true, or simply another tale? Agatha’s teachings had never ventured prior to the fall of Devania. Kora was aware of the individual gods, some of their powers, but she mostly studied their downfall, and the scholars’ writings on the magical factions.