The Disappearance of Winter's Daughter (Riyria Chronicles #4)(114)

Royce didn’t answer.

“The only way to stop that thing is to kill Villar. One of us has to get up there.” Hadrian looked out the door. The legs hadn’t moved. “And that means the other has to distract the god.” Hadrian sighed. “You’re the expert climber, so—”

“There you go again!” Royce snapped.

“What?”

Royce shook his head in disbelief. “Didn’t we just talk about this? About your stupid habit of playing the hero? That’s not grape juice on its legs.”

“No . . . no, it’s not.” Hadrian’s voice lowered. “But time’s running out, and I don’t see another option, do you? I can’t climb up these sheer walls, but you can.”

“Obviously, you should be the one to distract that thing, but that’s not the point!” Royce snapped.

“What is the point?”

“You don’t have to be so eager. You should try to persuade me to be the bait out of self-preservation.” Royce took a step closer to the door, to the marble legs. They were massive.

Hadrian smiled. “You think if I go out there I’m committing suicide?”

Royce nodded.

Hadrian shook his head. “I’m not. I have complete confidence. I’ll be fine.”

“And what makes you think that?”

“Because there are unicorns in my world.”

“There aren’t any stupid unicorns, Hadrian.”

“Yes, there are, I’m looking at one right now. And I know you’re a very fast one.” Hadrian pulled off his cloak. “Ready?”

“Villar probably heard all of this,” Royce told him.

“Then I have nothing to worry about.”

Royce held out Alverstone “Take this. It hurt the gargoyle before.”

Hadrian shook his head. “You’ll need it more than me, little unicorn. Ready?”

“Don’t ever call me that again, or when this is over, assuming you’re still alive, I will kill you.”

“Deal.”





Hadrian threw his cloak out the doorway.

A marble foot came down, crushing the garment. Hadrian dived directly between the pair of white polished legs. His plan was to somersault to his feet and run. But the green grass beyond the door was an illusion. The turf lied about the rocks beneath its blades. Hadrian slammed his shoulder against a hidden stone the size of a saddle horn, making him cry out in pain and killing his forward momentum.

A moment was all he had before the golem turned and another foot came down.

Hadrian log-rolled downhill, feeling the ground jump with the golem’s second failed attempt. Finding his feet, he ran for the thickets. The golem chased after him. Hadrian wasn’t certain it would. If Villar had heard their conversation, there was a good chance he might ignore the self-proclaimed decoy. Either Villar hadn’t heard or suspected the verbal planning was a ruse. Or maybe he simply didn’t care. In any case, Hadrian had the statue on his heels, a marble god he had no hope of outrunning and couldn’t fight.

Hadrian plunged into the mass of thickets, hoping to slow the golem down. The thorns slashed him, tore his clothes, and cut his cheek just below his left eye. Like a rabbit chased by a wolf, he clawed his way into the underbrush, aiming for thicker branches and better cover.

Behind him, the ground shook. Branches snapped, and vines were ripped clear. Thorns didn’t bother the god emperor.





Royce didn’t waste a moment.

The instant the golem turned its back, he was out the doorway. A strong leap gave him a fingertip purchase on ancient decorative molding. After that, he relied mostly on cracks—small ones to be sure, but there were many to choose from. He pulled himself up as fast as he could. Everything was working perfectly. Too perfectly. No plan ever unfolded so nicely.

Why did the golem chase Hadrian? Villar must have heard. He knows I’m the real threat. Unless . . . I’m not.

Royce cleared the rim of the roof and ran up the curve to the peak of the dome. The roof of the temple was empty.

Villar wasn’t there.





Stones!

Hidden beneath the brambles and old tree roots, Hadrian discovered a graveyard of tumbled slabs. Once part of the temple, these stones had fallen away and collapsed upon one another like playing cards. Three mostly buried slabs formed a hole that Hadrian crawled into.

A deep cave would have been nice, a tunnel even better; what he found was little more than a pocket.

Better than nothing.

Peering out the opening, he watched the world grow brighter as saplings and brambles were ripped away by Novron the Great. The god was digging down toward him.





Villar wasn’t on the roof, but he had to be nearby. Royce climbed back down and reentered the temple. Hadrian couldn’t survive much longer.

Royce stood in the little room, frustrated. Villar had to be there somewhere, but he couldn’t find him and Royce was almost out of time.

I told you there were no unicorns!

Royce looked at the smoldering coals of the fire.

But the world is filled with vicious, merciless killers.

Then he noticed the heaping piles of wool.

I should know . . . I am one.





Hadrian squeezed himself as deeply as he could into the stone burrow. The slabs were massive, far from trivial impediments, even to a seventeen-foot marble god, but Hadrian was reminded about Villar’s resolve as the golem grabbed the first stone and heaved it clear, tossing the giant granite block like a bag of grain. The second slab followed the first, leaving Hadrian exposed, his cozy refuge destroyed.