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“No.” Tyreste’s heavy steps echoed through her rest like low, slow drums. “She needs to rest, Ludya! The kyschun can wait another day or two.”
“There will be no rest for Ana,” Ludya said. “Nor, if you love her, for you. Not until this madness has ended, one way or another.”
By the Wings of This Life or the Bones of the Next
Chapter24
The History Keepers
The trek down the narrow walkway of the archivists’ lair was less treacherous the second time. Ana had been too distracted to note the details on her first visit, but she remembered the bizarre sensation of blood running down the walls, filling the space on either side of the thin platform that divided life from death.
Though Tyreste had healed her well, phantom reminders of her pain lingered. Her flesh had memorized every gash and would feel the high priestess’s blade severing her talons for the rest of her life. She hadn’t tried to fly again, because she wasn’t ready to discover not everything could be mended.
Tyreste, close behind her, was unusually silent. He’d been invited this time and hadn’t hesitated to come, but he clearly didn’t trust the motives of the kyschun. Ana didn’t know them any better than he did, but she believed in her heart they were not evil. Nor were they good. Such designations had no place in the role of a history keeper.
The long cavern was almost tranquil. No tremors knocked them off course. Every few paces, Tyreste stretched a hand toward her back and offered a soft, comforting touch, to remind her he was close. She was glad he was there. She hoped she would still feel that way after the kyschun had imparted their knowledge.
The path flared into a broader platform. It was no less dangerous against carelessness, but there was room to spread out. Tyreste stepped beside her with a wary look from his peripheral. She felt the same but smiled for them both.
“Where are they?” he asked, looking around at the room barren of anything but stone. He hadn’t gotten that far the first time, when the kyschun had tried to shake him from the mortal coil for venturing where he hadn’t been invited.
“Look up,” she said, pointing toward a series of six archways carved into the stone like little windows. Before she could explain the kyschun and kyschuna would appear there, they did, one by one. The glow surrounding them was dazzling as they each stepped into place, and as with the last time, she could make out nothing but outlines within the emanating light.
“Are they... like us?” Tyreste asked, leaning in to whisper.
“Yes. And no,” Ana replied, watching in the same rapt awe as him while the archivists finished settling into place. Their glow died to an ambient radiance, but their features were no more discernible. “They were born like us but were chosen for a different life. It’s often a designation carried through familial lines. The Petrovashes have long been among the kyschun, and there are three here now, as I understand it. Mishka and her daughter, Raisa, who I used to play with as a girl. Mishka’s brother, Olek. I don’t know who the others are.” She sighed. “I probably should. My father would.”
“Petrovash.” Tyreste twisted his mouth in thought. “I know that name.”
“I’m not surprised. They’re a prominent Vjestik family in the Cross. Here, they serve their family and our people with honor.”
“Are they going to say something?”
“Eventually.” She tried to smile. “Don’t be afraid. This time you’re invited. Theywantyou here.”
Tyreste gaped at the glowing arches. His head slowly shook. “Hopefully not to correct their mistake of not killing me the first time.”
“YOU HAVE RETURNED TO US WITHOUT DECEPTION. WE WILL HEAR YOUR PLEA.”
The cavern rumbled. Tyreste reached for her hand and clasped it tight.
Ana swallowed and raised her chin high. “Hvala for hearing my plea, kyschun and kyschuna. I should have solicited your wisdom sooner, but my fear, and perhaps bravado, chose isolation instead. I stand in full admission of this failure and beseech you to hear me when I say I come to you not for the good of myself but for the good of my people. For the good of the Ravenwoods, who do not deserve the torture that Mortain and his sycophants had inflicted upon them.”
“WE KNOW WHY YOU ARE HERE, ANASTAZJA OF THE WYNTERS. WE KNOW WHAT KNOWLEDGE YOU SEEK. WE HAVE CONFERRED AND DEEMED YOU WORTHY OF RECEIVING IT.”
Ana opened her mouth to thank them, but another voice eclipsed hers, this one female. She recognized it. Raisa.
“TYRESTE OF THE PENHALLOWS, YOUR FIRST VISIT WAS NOT SANCTIONED, AND YOU ARE FORTUNATE WE ALLOWED YOU TO LEAVE HERE AT ALL.”
Tyreste cleared his throat, nodding. “Yes, and I thank you for that mercy. I was only trying to help Ana, to keep her safe, but I didn’t know the rules. I will do whatever you ask of me.” His mouth twitched as he eyed Ana from the side. She nodded to confirm he was doing fine.
“YOU ARE HERE, TYRESTE OF HOUSE PENHALLOW, BECAUSE YOU WERE PUT IN ANASTAZJA’S PATH TO SHOW HER SHE WAS DESERVING OF LOVE. SO SHE WOULD EMPOWER HERSELF WITH THAT LOVE AND KNOW IT IS NOT ONLY HER LOVED ONES WHO ARE WORTHY OF SAVING. BUT SHE MUST LEARN TO FIGHTFORHERSELF OR SHE WILL CONTINUE TO FAIL.”
Ana shook her head in confusion. “But it is selfish to love oneself more than one loves others. I would gladly lay down my life to protect Tyreste, my father, my brother. The Ravenwoods.”
“AND THIS IS WHY YOU HAVE FAILED. YOU HAVE NOT PLACED APPROPRIATE VALUE ON YOUR LIFE. YOU DEFINE YOURSELF BY YOUR PAST, WITH NO EYE TO THE FUTURE YOU WILL CREATE. YOUR DEATH INVITES DESTRUCTION. THE WYNTERS END IF YOU END BEFORE YOU HAVE BROUGHT THE FUTURE TO LIFE. ARKHADY HAS PRODUCED THE LAST OF HIS BROOD. NIKOLAJ IS NOT BUILT AS YOU ARE. IF YOU DO NOT PREVAIL, ANASTAZJA, THEN NO ONE WILL.”
Ana glanced at Tyreste, but he was staring at the arches. “What does that mean? I don’t understand.”
