The Amulet Of Nicmir (The Scripts Of Neptune, Book 1)

Epilogue

It was cold, the night Corin Palenin--better known as Naru--chose to move the first piece and begin his puzzle-like plan. He had told no one, hinted at nothing--something he'd considered carefully. Allies were often a strength, but he had seen too many alliances turn to betrayals to trust anyone just yet. There was only one person he knew who might stay by him, and that was his brother, but even Ely was a card whose face was still hidden. His years in the dungeon had unquestionably changed him; it was now a matter of seeing whether he would flee or fight.

The Sea of Souls, one of eight soulstones left in the care of the human race after the dark spirit Rhamarr cursed them and the creator abandoned them to be shepherded by five stewards, and one of three that could be used by someone other than an oracle, was pathetically easy to procure. Security in the castle had never kept him at bay, not with his magic in hand, but now, now he could practically walk to the vault without being caught.

This soulstone was the largest of them, perfectly square, with veins of copper-green splitting the black stone into haphazard chunks of consuming, inky color. It almost hurt when he picked it up, searing his palms and fingertips, the soft green glow pulsing as it sensed the hands of a soulmage.

It took less than a minute to wave his hand and set himself in the desert, hundreds of miles from where he'd stood only seconds before, and even less time to place himself in the center of the ruined city he'd once called home. The stars were bright above him, the earth cold below, the alabaster stone of the greatest temple in Ahilia caught in-between. It was Dreail's temple, with gracefully beautiful murals painted on the walls in every shade of blue, honoring the goddess of the sea beside which the city sat.

Naru shut his eyes against the memories, and he raised the soulstone. It hummed in his grasp, almost violent, so different from the softer magic of the amulet. He bore the pain. And after two-thousand years of bondage, he set his people free.

***

Ely Julius Palenin, son of Craventi, wanted freedom. Liberation from the walls that'd been atop his prison for two millennia. He wanted room to breathe.

So he took it.

Or tried to, until his father walked in and caught him out of bed, stuffing clothes in a sack.

They stared at each other for a moment, two emaciated, pale-haired wraiths of men who'd once been younger and full of life and hope. Ely saw pain in those old blue eyes, but in the wrinkled hands he remembered knives, steel, and chains meant for torture. Some part of him knew, knew that Craventi hadn't been in control those long days of blood and sweat and tears and screaming. But that part of him was swallowed whole by aching memories of mothers falling to the ground, dead and broken, and a sister's lifeblood spilled on clover before she even learned to read.

"Where will you go?"

Even Craventi's voice was changed, rough and deep, grated by age. Ely swallowed, unsure of his own voice. He managed somehow, though, just two words, a glimpse at a half-baked dream to leave the broken remains of Ahilia and find a better world beyond the horizon. "The sea."

The corner of Craventi's mouth turned up in a sad smile, deepening every wrinkle in his face. "Ursa loved the sea," he said, soft. Ely swallowed again, averted his gaze, and took a few less than steady steps toward the open door. "Ely?"

Ely's eyes fell closed, and he stopped, bony fingers curling around the doorframe. He could feel his father's eyes on his back, and they burned.

"Visit someday."

Eyes snapping open, Ely turned the corner and started down the hall. And he knew, each step with more certainty, that he would never set foot in this accursed labyrinth of stone again.

***

"Get up."

Dreail's voice was dead serious, her patience run out.

Kiro didn't move.

"I said," Dreail hissed, stripping the blanket from the bed and dropping it on the floor of the hut, "get. Up."

Finally allowing his eyes to leave to ceiling, Kiro turned his head and stared dully at her. Her eyes were bright, almost unnaturally so, and her skin and hair were pale as the snow outside. She'd traded the ridiculous dress out for more sensible clothing--a long blue skirt and a fitted white tunic--but she looked no less a goddess.

She still didn't scare him.

But the realization that she didn't scare him scared him. Had he so thoroughly lost his mind that the being who could rip the oceans from their beds no longer struck fear into his heart?

More than likely.

Her slender white eyebrow arched, and she crossed her arms, giving him a look with such ice in it that it should've made him tremble. He didn't flinch.

"She's gone," he said, his voice rough and flat. His eyes left Dreail and went to the window, shadowed and grey where light was fighting to get through. They'd been snowed in for three days, something that told Kiro they were high in the mountains, high enough that if he wanted to live, he had to stick around. It was all that kept him from running. "She's gone, and our child with her. Philip lost his life for a cause unworthy of him. My sister and Noah likely believe me dead by now, if they themselves haven't been caught and executed." Closing his eyes, he spread his hands over his face, pressing his fingers to wet lashes. "My mother has not been seen in sixteen years, and my father is dead. I have no reason to get up."

He heard Dreail's sigh, felt the mattress move as she perched on the edge of the cot. "Need you a reason besides destiny?"

"Destiny can go to hell."

"Mm." There was a smile in her voice. There usually was when he snapped at her. Then there was silence for a while, broken only by his own breathing. "Perhaps you are right," she finally conceded softly. "I had thought...I had thought that I would train you until it came time for your purpose, but I see now that you are not going to heal that way. You need time. And for now, you have it. Your soul will mend with mine, and when we are both needed, I will return you to your body."

Kiro lowered his hands and looked at her. "What do you mea--"

He never got a chance to finish. Something tugged hard in his chest. And Kiro, son of Agnir and Seeker of the oracle of Avani, was snatched from his body and laid to rest with the souls of the gods.

                                              ~End of Book One~