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Chapter III

Chapter Three

The laughter continued for a long time, sometimes mixing with a bell. Kaiya listened. Cheers floated toward her from far away. A man’s voice. This is the last temple. Our unjust exile has finally ended, my brothers. More cheers faded into the distance. Kaiya drifted between emptiness and nothingness while the laughter and voices slowly washed away only to be replaced by . . . by what? She strained her ears. Singing? Yes. Singing. It was dim . . . so dim. But striking and enchanting. A beautiful, comforting song. So far away. So familiar.

Kaiya was sure she should be sharpening a blade, but she couldn’t find it. Why did she want to do that, again? It seemed so important at the time. Oh, well. It’ll show up eventually.

She drifted. Slowly, peacefully. It would be easy to just . . . float away. That would be nice, right?

That sound again. What was that?

Faoii, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?

Maybe she should answer before floating away. That would be the nice thing to do. Kaiya tried to blink her eyes open. Tried to respond.

Can you hear me?

Kaiya tried to move.

Her groan was louder than the song’s quiet whispers. Silence prevailed for a moment.

“Who’s there?” The call was tired and weak, but Kaiya heard it. Again she tried to respond. Why couldn’t she open her eyes? They were coated with something . . . sticky. And thick. Honey? Sap? Slowly . . . oh, so slowly . . . she peeled her lids apart.

Blood. There was blood everywhere. Surely even oceans were not as wet as this. And bodies. Men, women, Faoii, Cleroii. Everyone. The bodies were not laid out or peaceful in their passing, but were left how they fell: broken and wide-eyed. Kaiya felt bile rise in her throat.

Something heavy was on top of her. Struggling, Kaiya managed to lift it off her, and it fell to the side with a clang. Faoii-Leigh’s shield. The warrior lay next to her, pale and still, her blood staining the scattered pieces of Illindria’s statue. Kaiya reached over to close the unblinking eyes, her arm shaking. “Better battles, Faoii,” she whispered.

“Who is there? That clatter . . . who are you?” the voice continued, and Kaiya at last rose. Awkwardly, like a newborn foal, she stood on shaky calves.

“I’m here.” Kaiya spoke uncertainly, afraid of who would be looking for her in a battlefield like this. But the voice did not seem frightening.

“Come in front of me. I cannot see you. I can only sense you . . . Faoii. Yes, I am sure of it. You are Faoii. Come closer, child. I cannot sing anymore.” Kaiya turned around slowly, looking for the whispers’ source.

She found it, but nothing could have prepared her for what she saw. In the center of the room, the chandeliers had been broken and torn from the ceiling, and from their dangling skeletons, long, thorny vines with broad, flat leaves snaked their way around Preoii-Aleena’s wrists and torso, and she hung limply midair. The vines clung to her head in a bloody diadem and twisted through her eye sockets. Kaiya felt the bile rise in her throat again but fought it back down. Trembling, she dragged her feet forward.

It seemed like she crossed miles before reaching her destination. “Preoii . . .” Her whisper seemed deafening in the silence, and Kaiya hit her knees. Slowly, she lifted quivering hands to touch the Preoii’s thorny feet.

“You must not touch me, child. I fear that this plant may be bred from ton—” The Preoii stopped herself and started again, her voice quiet. “Something evil from long ago. I am afraid, little one, that you must leave me like this.”

“Preoii-Aleena, I can’t. I—”

“Shhh, Kaiya-Faoii. It is pretty little Kaiya, is it not? Of course. I’d recognize that undisciplined aura anywhere.” Despite everything, the Preoii smiled, chuckling under her breath. “Of course it would be. Pretty little Kaiya. So much older now than when you came to us. We never thought we would get your stubborn curls into a braid—” She was wracked with a rattling cough.

“Kaiya-Faoii, I am sorry I could save only you. My songs once could have healed twice as many as those that have fallen here, but these vile thorns have torn through the magic of this place. It is not a very fitting end, I’m afraid. Our fallen sisters deserve to be laid to rest where there is still magic. Where people will sense for centuries to come that this is where Faoii lived and died. But the Croeli have desecrated even our legacy.”

The vines tugged on the skin of Preoii-Aleena’s forehead, and she clenched her teeth shut with a snap. The muscles in her arms tensed against the pain, and for the first time Kaiya realized how strong the Preoii really was. Beneath the soft ivory skin and auburn hair, Aleena was still Faoii. And her voice was filled with vengeance, drawing power from her hatred for the Croeli foe, when she said, “May the Goddess strike down the Croeli with Her eternal blade. She has seen the ending of this tale. When the Everlasting Tapestry frays, Croeli-Thinir will be at its center—if She does not destroy him first.” The vines slithered forward as the power around her grew, and Preoii-Aleena sagged beneath them, the last of her strength sapped by the dark magic of their source. When she spoke again, her voice was barely a whisper.

“Kaiya-Faoii, you are the last of our Order. You are not just Faoii as you were, but you are now all Faoii. Every throat that ever sang in these walls, every breath and cry and laugh, is part of your blade now. You carry all of the Order with you.” Preoii-Aleena stopped as another cough tore through her. Blood splattered the floor at Kaiya’s feet. “You must not be afraid, Faoii, for as long as one blade still sings, there will be justice. Tell the world what has happened here. Tell them to fear the Croeli’s destructive horned god. You are strong, little Faoii. I, and the Goddess, have faith in you.” Tears mixed with the blood of Preoii-Aleena’s ruined eyes as she gasped for breath. “Arise, Kaiya-Faoii . . . as Faoii-Kaiya.”

Kaiya rose. There was no cheer or sense of honor as she had always expected would come with her ascension. There was only a cold whistle as a breeze passed through the dying chamber and a soft shuck sound as the vines continued to snake their way over Preoii-Aleena’s skin.

“To the armory, Faoii. You must prepare for your crusade. I cannot go with you to help you find the blade that is meant to be your arm, but I have faith you will find it. Go. And know that you are all of us.”

Kaiya stuttered for a moment before dropping her eyes. “Preoii-Aleena, I couldn’t even hurt him. My sword just rang off his skin. I can’t do this. I can’t—” Kaiya saw the faintest hint of a smile on Preoii-Aleena’s face.

“Of course you can, Kaiya. You’re so much stronger than you know.” Her words softened as her head dropped forward. “Your mother would have been so proud . . .” The last whisper was barely louder than the whistle of the wind in the halls, but Kaiya’s head snapped up. But there was no more sound. Just the soft shuck, shuck, shuck, of the vines. She stood there, stunned into silence. Dust and plaster sprinkled down from the rafters as the vines continued their slow slither in the darkness.

Kaiya did not know how long she stood there. Hours? Years? Time held no meaning for her. An eternity might have passed when, body shaking and knees weak, Kaiya turned toward the door. She lifted her eyes toward the ceiling as a single ray of sunlight struggled its way through the crumbling dome. For the first time, her eyes flooded with tears as she realized the enormity of Preoii-Aleena’s words.

“I am Faoii.”