The Eye of God (The Fall of Erelith) (31 page)

Blaise followed the boy’s stare. From his place, he couldn’t see the bed or the girl’s form, but he could smell her presence. Her scent clung to Terin.

“I don’t know.” In truth, Blaise hadn’t thought that far ahead, but he wasn’t going to admit that to the boy.

“If I help you, can you protect her?”

“I can try. It depends. Aria?”

“Records I change, yes? New person he become, yes?” Aria replied in Erelithian. The woman’s smile relaxed. “New person she become, too. Can be done, yes.”

“When Aria says it can be done, it can be done. Aria doesn’t lie. You worry about what you want to do, and you let us worry about the specifics.” Blaise rose to his feet and tried not to grin.

The boy’s thoughtful expression elated him. With just a little more convincing, he’d have Terin. With the slave’s help, the real work could begin.

~*~

Without knowing more about the blond-haired man and the silver-collared woman, Terin couldn’t decide what to do. Lord Gabriel seemed sincere—the evidence of that was in the gold weighing heavily in his hand.

Aria’s concern warmed Terin as nothing else he could remember. Her eyes, like his, were green, but hers were a darker shade. The kindness in them soothed, where the icy blue of Blaise’s eyes pierced through him.

The choice was Terin’s, and he didn’t know what to do. Dying wouldn’t help anyone. While he didn’t really know the pleasure slave, the only way he could ensure she didn’t end up back in the arena was cooperating with Lord Gabriel.

Running away wouldn’t help either. If he ran, he could take her with him—if she cooperated. He’d seen too many obey their masters to their deaths to hold much hope in that possibility. The idea of abandoning her sickened him.

If he escaped, it wouldn’t be alone. Two choices were whittled away.

As a slave, even if he remained, he could do nothing.

Another choice was whittled away.

“Does she come if I leave Erelith?” Terin asked.

Lord Gabriel shook his head. “No, it’ll be hard enough getting you out alive. You’re wanted by the Emperor. If we’re caught, you’ll live, and the rest of us, well, let’s just say I doubt the Emperor’ll be happy with us.” The man glanced over at Aria. The woman shivered and rubbed at her arms.

Terin sat straighter and narrowed his eyes. His choices were whittled down to three. “How does being this so-called scion avoid the Emperor from finding out? How does becoming your son prevent it?”

Lord Gabriel remained silent, and the man’s blue eyes darkened to a steely gray. It was as if storm clouds brewed in the gaze meeting his.

“No,” Aria replied. Terin jerked at the sound of her voice, and he twisted around to stare at the woman. “Noble house no like children and family killed. Or slaves. Get mad. Revolt.”

“Aria, aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?” Lord Gabriel grumbled.

The woman muttered something in the melodic, throaty language Terin couldn’t understand. Whatever it was she said, it forced a laugh out of the red-clad man.

When the man smiled, it was so warm and full of affection Terin held his breath in fear of his presence defiling the moment.

~Father,~ the calm, gentle voice murmured in Terin’s head. Like Lord Gabriel’s smile, the word was so full of warmth and contentment Terin didn’t know what to do. It spread through his chest and held him in so soothing an embrace his body relaxed. He sighed.

The presence within him was still and quiet, but he sensed it as warmth deep within his chest. Of the malevolent presence, there was no sign.

“I’ll leave you to think about it,” Lord Gabriel said, rising to his feet. “If you want to leave Erelith, put the collar on the table. If you want to remain a slave, put it back on. The pieces will fit back together.” The man paused and echoed Terin’s sigh. “If you decide to throw your lot in with me and see what we can do together, throw it on the floor. I’ll be in the other room if you need me.”

Lord Gabriel dipped his head in a nod and left the room, pausing to wait for Aria. After flashing Terin a smile, the slave woman followed, leaving him alone to decide his fate.

Chapter 14

Blaise perched on the edge of the bed and stared down at the girl he’d rescued, marveling at how his spontaneous decision to save them both had worked so well in his favor. While she was pretty, there wasn’t anything special about her. Had the fire in her eyes in the Arena been what had captured the boy’s attention, or was it something else?

Was it something human he couldn’t understand?

“Confused, yes?” Aria asked, leaning against the door. Her smile was gentle.

“You don’t have to try speaking in Erelithian if you don’t want to,” he said, trying to gather his thoughts before answering the woman’s real question.

“Learn, I will.”

“It’s been fifteen years, hasn’t it? Since you came here. Stubborn, I’ll give you that. Just like you, to understand languages so easily yet struggle when trying to speak them.”

“Don’t care.”

Blaise shrugged, turning from Aria to touch the slave girl’s cheek. He pushed stray strands of her hair away from her face. Finger-shaped bruises darkened her skin around her throat, parallel with the golden collar.

She didn’t stir at his touch. That would come later, after Terin made his decision. After her wounds, like the boy’s, had time to heal.

After Blaise’s body, too, healed.

“She’s lucky to be alive,” Aria whispered.

Blaise nodded his head and glanced to the main room of the shop. Through the dolls, he caught a glimpse of the boy seated on the stool in Aria’s workshop. “Perhaps it’s better we talk like this,” he said in the ancient language of Aria’s birth. “The men who had her intended to sacrifice her to the Hand of God, Aria. They would’ve too, if I hadn’t risked Lucin’s wrath.”

“That’s why you were hurt? You fought Lucin? Blaise! You wouldn’t have just died.” Aria’s eyes widened and she gasped, staring at the girl on the bed. “No. Wait. No. Surely not her, a vessel?”

Blaise shook his head. “No, the boy’s the vessel, Aria. They were going to use the two to test Lucin’s power. Of that, I’m certain.”

“Impossible!” Aria scowled at him and crossed her arms over her chest. “Impossible,” she repeated.

“Why do you say that? I saw it, Aria. He held the Hand. That boy’s not Obsessed. If he isn’t a vessel, then I don’t know what he is.”

“I don’t understand. He’s not…” Aria murmured, her brow furrowing.

“That’s what makes him a vessel, Aria. You know that. Anyone else would be dead or devoured. Obsessed.” Blaise rubbed at the bridge of his nose and tried to will away the ache in his head. It didn’t work. “If he does decide to return to Horthoe, I’ll have to kill him, Aria. I don’t dare let the Emperor control him, not now.”

“But why?” The anguish in Aria’s voice caught Blaise’s attention. Tears gleamed in her green eyes, and streaked down her cheeks.

“Remember Westoran?”

“How could I forget?” she whispered.

“You’ve endured a few hundred lives since then,” he replied and sighed. “I hadn’t meant to bind you so.”

It was the closest he’d ever gotten to being able to apologize to the woman. He didn’t know if he could ever bring himself to truly look her in the eye and say he regretted forcing her soul to reincarnate, time and time again, to keep him company through the ages.

He was worse than any of the Citizens. They only bound lives.

He’d taken her soul and made it his.

Aria pushed away from the door and sank down to the floor at his feet. Her back pressed against his legs. “I don’t remember much of it. I don’t mind.”

It was the same conversation, one they’d had hundreds if not thousands of times before, in this life, and all of her numerous previous lives.

Blaise reached down and squeezed her shoulder. For her sake, he’d step a little closer to his regret. “Well, I do.” He let her think about it and the dual meaning of his words. “Mikael saved their souls by killing them all before the Hand could be used. Without the Eye, if the Hand is used, there won’t be enough left of their souls to send to the Garden.”

And it’d be Blaise’s fault.

“I know that, Blaise.”

“Then why say it’s impossible?”

Aria wiggled against him and rested the back of her head against his knee. “Can I ask a question?”

“Of course.”

“Can the Eye—can Mikael—be the vessel for Lucin? It’s not impossible, is it?”

Blaise shuddered. He tightened his hold on Aria, not liking where his thoughts wandered. Alone, the Eye and the Hand could destroy entire cities. Mikael had split an entire continent in two, and left a scar on the land which would never heal.

He couldn’t imagine what they could do if they worked together.

“The thought alone is terrifying,” he whispered, shaking his head. “I’m supposed to be the vicious one, remember? Not you. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, not even the Emperor. It’s my hope to stop that sort of thing from happening.”

“What if it already has?”

“Aria, we’d be dead. Not even I would survive it if they clashed. They hate each other more than anything. They’d try to kill each other if they were contained within each other—or even within the same vessel. I don’t think anyone could have stopped them.”

“Aurora could have,” Aria whispered.

Blaise closed his eyes and fought the tightness in his throat and the burn of tears. He ran his fingers through Aria’s hair. No matter how often her soul returned back to the mortal coil, she never forgot her sister. No matter how many times Blaise prayed she would forget, for Him to leave her be, Aria returned to his side.

Over, and over, and over, until his guilt choked him.

Everything had happened because Blaise had failed to stop Lucin and Mikael the first time.

“They didn’t mean to do it, I know that. It was an accident,” the woman whispered. “They were trying to protect her from each other. I believe that. She loved them both, and they her.”

That love—that human, short-lived emotion—had destroyed all three of them, and Blaise with them. Yet, he couldn’t blame them. His regret was the one thing unchanged through the ages, and Aria lived to witness it, time and time again.

“I know,” he murmured.

“He’s just like her, that boy.”

Blaise froze. “What?” When Aria didn’t reply right away, he held his breath.

“It’s not just his eyes. Oh, oh blessed God, I thought I would die when I first saw his eyes, Blaise. It’s not just that, but this girl. He’d go so far just because she’s here. Just like Aurora would do. He’d sell himself to save her, just because she’s in front of him. I know he would. He will. He’ll decide to be yours, all because she’s here.”

“He’s not that fickle,” Blaise muttered.

“It’s not fickle,” Aria snapped. “Isn’t it obvious she needs to be saved? Look at her.”

Blaise glanced out of the corner of his eye at the still figure on the bed, at the dark bruises, and the pained expression that didn’t ease even in sleep. He shook his head.

Bruised, but not broken. Not yet.

The slave girl and Terin were kindred spirits.

“Her heart was too big for her tiny chest,” he observed, running his hands through Aria’s hair once more. “Far too small for her soul.”

“Can you really save them this time?”

Blaise dropped his hands to Aria’s shoulders and rubbed them. “I don’t know, but I’m going to try.”

“Mikael’s here, Blaise.”

“I know.” Blaise couldn’t stop his smile. “We’ll find him.”

“It’s really begun again, hasn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so. There won’t be another chance. Not this time. So sayeth He.”

“God can kiss my feet and get kicked in the face by a mule. May he fall in the mud and swallow worms.”

Blaise snorted. “You need to work on your insults, Aria. Just don’t let Him hear you say that.”

“If he didn’t hear me, I’ll be disappointed.”

~*~

Terin listened to the murmur of conversation in the other room while staring at the collar in his hand. Without its pressure around his throat, all of the thoughts and desires he’d never dared to believe in tumbled about in his head and left him breathless.

He could die.

He could live.

He could run away.

He could hide.

He could go anywhere, do anything, all without the threat of punishment looming over him. Limitless choices were before him, and each one tempted him.

The choices he’d believed whittled away to nothing were there. The choice was his, and his alone.

A shudder ripped through him. There were things Terin could do beyond what had been offered him. Without the collar, he could escape on his own. He could find a way to set the girl free as well, one way or another.

If she was returned to Zurach and Emeric, her death wouldn’t be pleasant. Terin shuddered again, unable to imagine what the two men would do to her before they killed her.

No one deserved that.

It shouldn’t have bothered him. How many other slaves had he failed to save before? She’d survived the arena, though he wasn‘t sure how. It hadn’t been because of him.

Terin still wasn’t sure how he’d survived or how Zurach had taken him from the arena. Like the memory of escaping the two brothers to fall into Lord Gabriel’s hands, the memory was gone.

He could still feel the warmth of the man’s hands on his throat. Unlike Zurach, Lord Gabriel’s hands had been gentle. Firm. Comforting.

~Father,~ the voice murmured to him.

Terin stilled at the warmth infusing the word and he couldn’t help but smile, even though he didn’t understand why.

He’d never had a father.

Shaking his head, he turned his thoughts back to the problem. Back to his choice.

Alone, he might be able to escape from Erelith. All he needed to do was reach out and set the pieces on the table. If they slipped through his numb fingers, he didn’t know what would happen.

Everything he knew was in his hands, bound to the collar he’d always worn, even when it’d been so large on him he’d worn it as a necklace.

It’d been with him for as long as he could remember. It was the only thing left familiar to him, but if he wanted to do something—anything—he had to let it go.