Kalona's Fall (House of Night Novellas #4)(31)

Though she was sometimes sorry she had made that vow, the Goddess never broke her oath.

Nyx was also sometimes sorry that she had vowed never to speak of the night the first of her children had been created. The vow had been well intended—made to protect her children. What the Goddess had not realized then was that by cloaking that night in silence, she had also lost the opportunity to explain many things to Kalona, and in return to ask him for an explanation for many things as well.

They never spoke of what had happened when Kalona had appeared at the geyser, or of the strange superstition that had caused the Shaman to make blood sacrifice to Kalona.

In her mind Nyx often replayed the chant the Shaman had sung before he sacrificed the girl.

What I do, I do for two

One for her

And one for you …

What had the old man meant? Nyx believed the “you” of which he had chanted was Kalona. Could the “her” not have meant the maiden, but instead have been referring to the Goddess herself?

The not knowing haunted Nyx, especially as, bound by her own vow, she could speak her questions to no one, especially not Kalona, who seemed increasingly not to want to speak to her about many things.

Nyx tried to talk with Kalona about Mother Earth, whom she missed terribly. Kalona avoided the subject of his symbolic mother and grew silent.

When Nyx wondered aloud what could have happened to little L’ota, who disappeared the same night Erebus and Kalona entered the Otherworld, Kalona had only silence as reply.

Kalona’s silence began to lengthen and spread, until there was little he and Nyx were able to speak about, and the only thing that was not awkward between them was the flame that burned when their bodies joined.

But Nyx needed more than wordless passion to be happy, and she found herself more and more often turning to Erebus for companionship. The golden immortal was not her lover, but he served the role of Consort more fully than did Kalona. Erebus spoke with her easily; there was nothing hidden between them. Erebus truly listened to her, without pride or jealousy, and Erebus had the ability to make her laugh.

The more Nyx turned to Erebus, the more withdrawn Kalona became, until he stopped seeking even the solace of joining his body with the Goddess. In the malignant silence that grew between them, Kalona was filled with a jealousy that had never truly been reconciled, and the anger created by that jealousy.

It was then that Darkness began its attack on the Otherworld.

The first time it happened, Nyx had been sunning herself on Erebus’s balcony, taking in the morning light. She remembered that Erebus had made a feather toy for the wildcat that followed Nyx throughout the Otherworld, and that she had been laughing like a girl at the cat’s obsession with the feather when something dark and terrible had slithered over the edge of the balcony and wrapped itself around the cat’s hind leg, causing it to yowl in pain.

Nyx had screamed in fear, and Kalona had suddenly appeared like an avenging God, wings spread, eyes glowing amber. He had skewered the slithering creature with his obsidian spear. Nyx had scooped up the cat and run into Kalona’s arms. He had held her, stoking her hair and whispering reassurances to her, until she had stopped trembling.

“What was that?” Nyx had asked him.

“Darkness,” Kalona had said in a voice filled with anger.

“How did it gain entrance here?” Erebus had asked as he gently bandaged the cat’s bleeding leg.

“You tell me, brother. It was you who was alone with the Goddess when it struck.”

Erebus had had no answer for his brother, and neither had Nyx. But what had begun that day continued to spread until almost every day Kalona battled some kind of Darkness.

In the beginning the attacks brought Kalona and Nyx together once more. They became lovers again for a brief, beautiful time. The Goddess sought his company, and they found a way to speak to each other. Kalona even happily agreed to visit the mortal realm with Nyx while she made an appearance to her favored children, the vampyres, as they christened the first House of Night after their Goddess of Night.

But that visit ended in jealousy and anger when Nyx remarked joyfully, “Look, Kalona, there are so many cats here! They are such loving familiars of my children.”

“Yes, I am sure Erebus will be thrilled at the joy his gift still brings you,” Kalona had quipped, and then fallen silent.

Nyx could say nothing—not about the gift he had given her that night, and how that gift pleased her more than any mortal creature could. No, Nyx could say nothing. Her own vow silenced her. She could only watch as jealousy and anger warred within Kalona.

As they returned to the Otherworld, a great horned creature of many heads and with teeth like daggers, had attacked them. Kalona destroyed it, escorted Nyx to her chambers and then, without speaking, he left her there, alone, while he searched for more enemies to slay.

That night Nyx wept bitterly as Mother Earth’s warning echoed from her memory:… watch Kalona. If he begins to change, it will be because his anger has grown greater than his love. If he allows anger to consume him, it will also consume you and your realm.

Nyx realized it was happening. Kalona’s anger was consuming their love and the Otherworld, as well. Though it would create a wound within her that would ache for eternity, Nyx knew Kalona must be stopped.

*   *   *

“You summoned me?”

Nyx had dressed carefully, choosing the gown she had worn that day so, so long ago when their love had been new and Kalona had created the waterfall for her, and they had first shared their bodies with each other. At the sound of his voice, Nyx turned to face him, filling her smile with all of the love she would eternally feel for him, and wishing desperately that he would answer her smile in kind, take her into his arms, and put his anger aside.