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from the back of her throat, building into another scream.

The Old One was doing something to the Anahera, showing her something. Before Erika could react though, Cara’s screams died away, leaving only the echoes calling back to them through the endless tunnels. The Goddess stilled, her wings still stretched wide, poised as though about to flee. The rasping of her desperate breaths filled the silence.

“Cara,” Erika took a step towards her friend, hand outstretched.

A shriek came from the Anahera as she leapt back, eyes wild, their colour swirling from yellow to grey. Erika froze, as behind her, the Old One’s voice whispered in the darkness.

“Now she knows,” Maya murmured. “Now your pet has seen the truth, human. Do you think she will forgive the terrors your kind committed upon her ancestors, the betrayals?” She turned her attention to Cara. “Well, child? Will you serve your tormentors still? Or will you finally throw off your chains?”

A tremor shook Cara as some of the light returned to her eyes, the yellow glow, though as she looked at Erika, a new emotion appeared in her friend’s eyes.

Fear.

“Cara,” Erika said urgently, seeking to drown out the Old One, though the creature might even now be whispering into the Goddess’s mind. “Cara, it’s me. You know me. I am not my ancestors. I will not allow my people to repeat the mistakes of our forefathers.”

“Won’t you?” Cara whispered, the words seemingly torn from the depths of her throat. Her eyes fell to the gauntlet on Cara’s hand. “Truly? You wield their magic, have dug into their hidden places, sought their secrets.”

“Yes, child, see the truth,” Maya’s voice came again. “See them for what they are—wild, reckless. This creature would do anything for the power of her forefathers, would commit any crime for their secrets.”

Erika opened her mouth to deny the charge, but found the words would not come. She swallowed, wondering…how much truth there was in Maya’s claim. She looked again to Cara, knowing a part of her could not deny the Old One’s words, only…

…that was the old Erika, was it not? The Archivist who had dug so recklessly into the past, who would have done anything to fill the void left by her father’s death, by her exile.

Erika was no longer that woman, but…she had responsibilities of her own now, to her kingdom, to her people. If the powers of the ancients could save them…

“I…” Erika trailed off, struggling to find the words. “I…we are not them, Cara,” she said finally, the words lame, even to her.

“Aren’t you?” her friend replied, and Erika saw her eyes flicker, shifting to where Amina stood nearby. The Flumeeren queen stared back, face betraying none of the emotion hidden within. “Aren’t you exactly like them? Didn’t your people torture my mother, twist her, break her, murder her. And all for what? For her knowledge, for the secrets she possessed.”

Erika let her hand fall to her side. Cara stood staring at her with those soft yellow eyes, and she could see the pain there, the hurt the Goddess had carried since the day they’d realised the truth, had discovered the fate of her missing mother.

“You’re right,” Erika said at last. Her eyes caught the queen’s, and she saw the slightest of smirks there, the satisfaction. This woman held no regret for Cara’s pain. “Some of us are terrible,” Erika continued in a whisper. “All of us have that capacity, whether we be human, Tangata, or Anahera. But I swear to you, Cara, there are others amongst us who want to do better, who would create a world for all of us.” She drew in a breath. “But I can’t do it without you, Cara, without your light to guide the way. Please, I need your help.”

She trailed off, watching the silent Goddess, staring into those golden eyes. Hesitantly, Erika offered her hand again. The moment stretched out, a silence hanging in the air as the others watched on, waiting.

Until finally, Cara reached out and clasped her hand around Erika’s.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Laughter answered the pronouncement. “So disappointing,” Maya rumbled. “I thought for sure the child would throw off your shackles, human.” She grimaced. “Alas, it was not to be so. Her kind were always weak, their will easily corrupted.” She paused, then turned, the dark pits of her eyes fixing on another. “And what of you, half-blood queen? Are you ready to embrace your true power?”

Footsteps sounded in the gloom as Amina advanced into the light of Erika’s gauntlet. Her smile did not falter as she looked from Erika and Cara to the Old One. She shook her head as she appraised the creature.

“All my life,” she murmured. “I have been waiting for your arrival, Chead. You think I would join you now?”

33

The Fallen

Standing in the darkness, Adonis listened to the thrum of Maya’s Voice, the swirling strength of her hatred…

…and felt it weaken.

An inner gasp escaped Adonis as he emerged from the pain, from the crushing agony of his own regret, as Maya’s influence over his mind retreated.

A shudder shook him as he returned to himself, looking across the tunnel to where the humans stood. What did the creatures think they were doing, coming here, thinking they could face the Old One alone? The Anahera might fight for a while, resisting the power of Maya’s Voice, but even he could sense the divisions amongst those the others. The Old One would turn them against one another before any managed to strike a blow.

She played the calm Matriarch now, but when they had arrived in his place earlier, her rage had been terrible to behold. To discover her mate’s absence, that the humans had tricked her, manipulated her…

…no, none would leave this place alive. Maya could have crushed them already, could have broken their minds as she had his. Why she had not already, Adonis could not comprehend. Nor why her influence on him had lessoned. Her Voice still touched him, fixing him in place where he stood

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