Crowned (Beholder #4)(2)

I sniffed. “That’s not how I remember it happening. As I recall, there was a great battle. On one side, there was the evil mage Viktor. On the other side, there was me and my mate Rowan. During the fighting, I summoned an army of Necromancers back from the dead to help win the day. You have my skull-mark on your face. That means you were one of those mages. Petra played no part in it.”

“Oh, how disrespectful I have been to you, my Tsarina.” Echo leaned deeper into her kneel, stopping only when her forehead slammed against the ground. “You did indeed raise my physical body from the dead. However, Petra has since renewed my soul. I beg you to forgive me. Hear my vow: I promise to worship you as well, my Tsarina.”

“That’s not what I meant.” I knelt beside her. “I wish you wouldn’t worship Petra or me. When you regained your mortal body, it’s true that my death magick reached out to your spirit. But never forget—it was your will that tapped into my spell. You hauled yourself back into the realm of the living. On its own, my skills couldn’t have done that. Power and light dance inside you; those are yours alone. Don’t ever give credit for them to someone else. Not even me.”

Echo angled her head against the dusty earth, stopping when her gaze met mine. “This is all a trick.” Her voice quavered. “You are testing my faith.”

“No, I’m trying to help you. How about we both stand up?”

“As you command.” Echo hopped upright and stared wide-eyed toward the horizon. When she spoke again, her voice held the singsong notes of a trained speech. “My name is Petra’s Echo. You are our Tsarina, born Elea of Braddock Farm. You raised my body from the dead, and now my soul is led by Petra, the Most Holy Messenger of the Gods.”

“The list of Petra’s titles grows by the day.” With slow movements, I forced myself to rise once more. “You’d best share what you came to tell me.” I glanced up at the sky. No red slash of light; the Martyr’s Comet had yet to arrive. There was still time to convince this girl.

Echo kept speaking in her singsong tone. “Petra is the Mouthpiece of the Gods, and she has a request for you. Our people believe you are our Tsarina.”

“I’m aware.” When I refused to take over ruling the Necromancers, Petra simply told everyone I was leading them from afar. It was most annoying.

“The Mouthpiece of the Gods has trusted me with a great secret.” Echo lowered her voice to a whisper. “You are not truly our Tsarina. You haven’t completed the sacred rites.”

I sighed. “I’m aware of that as well.”

“Don’t you want to be Tsarina? You’ll be hailed as the strongest Necromancer alive.”

“That’s precisely why I don’t want the title. Right now, being confirmed as the strongest Necromancer isn’t exactly a good thing.” I shook my head. “Not that you’d know that. The messengers never receive all the necessary information.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. The Divine Petra has told me everything I need to know. Her message to you is this: complete the rituals and take over your true mantle as our Tsarina. Cease your pointless refusals.”

Here we go again. Every missive from Petra was the same, as was my response, which always came in the form of a question. “And has Petra told you why I refuse?”

“Not specifically.”

Because she never does. I’m sure Petra wouldn’t find so many willing messengers if they knew the truth. No one wants to tell someone powerful that they must die soon. “Did Petra give you totem rings, by any chance?”

“Two of them. It is an honor.” Echo lifted her dainty hands. She wore two silver thumb bands carved in skull patterns—the classic sign of Petra’s totem ring creations. The reason for the bands was simple. Necromancer spells required exceedingly long incantations. Grand Mistresses could load magick onto rings and activate them with a single word.

“She always sends one messenger and two totem rings.” I shook my head. “Those bands aren’t a gift; they’re a means of controlling you. Petra has loaded that first ring with a memory wipe spell. It will activate once we’re done talking, usually when you speak the formal Necromancer farewell, valedictions. The second band is loaded with a transport spell to bring you back to Petra’s side. That one will launch when you say the word transport.”

“You’re wrong about the totem rings, you know.” Echo lifted her right hand. “This isn’t a transport spell.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What is it then?”

“A secret.”

“I see.” This girl was proving tough to reach. It was time to call in my best weapon. “You never answered my question. Do you wish to know the truth about why I refuse to become Tsarina?”

Echo hugged her elbows for a moment. Then, she nodded.

“Good.” I gestured to the rickety arch behind me. “This is a gateway. Have you seen any before?”

“Yes, there’s one hidden in our Cloister. It leads to another world—the Eternal Lands of the Sire and Lady.”

“Quite right. The Sire of Souls and the Lady of Creation fashioned all the magickal arches in our world. Most of them lead to the Eternal Lands, but some connect elsewhere instead. In fact, legend tells of a place called the Meadow of Many Gateways where the arches link to nothing but other worlds.” I gestured to the night sky. “Every two thousand years, the Martyr’s Comet appears and weakens these gateways. Since our world has been magickally tied to so many others, we can’t risk those arches falling apart. The very foundations of this world would collapse.”