Are those?—
The image went up in flames.
No—not flames. It was a flaring, golden light streaked with different facets of power. Turquoise and orange and lilac wove without, more colors there and gone too quickly to name.
“That day, the Angels were forced to sacrifice all the might they bore on this continent, in order to uphold another.” The light burned and burned. The sphinx’s voice rose, crashing through the chamber. “They left behind stagnant pieces of magic, meant to be uncovered so that the chosen may break the curse the Ascension locked them away in. So you may free my mistress and the others from that horrid prison.”
Itistheir spirits locked away? That is what I need to free?
The sphinx ignored my silent questions. “It is that curse which runs through your blood, the Angelblood the marking of it. Activated by the blood of the gods.”
That final sentence rang through the air, and the water stilled, the light fading.
The vision released its hold on me, the chamber swarming around us in a rush of cypher-and-magic scented air. I fell backward onto the bank, panting. Dozens of questions bombarded my mind.
“The agent that activates the Angelblood.” I met the sphinx’s gaze, my breath shuddering from my body. “The answer I’vebeen searching for as to how I was struck with this curse—it’s Godsblood?”
The sphinx sat, her tail swishing behind her proudly. “That it is.”
“How did I—” I swallowed. “How didIget Godsblood?”
“Your grandmother hails from Lendelli, the home of Xenique when she once lived. After the Ascension, the capital was moved east, nearer the mountains. But this land, these dunes, they were of my mistress’ own soul. They are where she lived, where she bore her children, and where they bore theirs for many generations to come. Until one strayed, falling in love with a Mystique, and abandoning her home here.”
Chills spread across my skin, and I swore I could feel that ancient thread of Godsblood beating through my veins.
“Are you saying our grandmother is a descendent of Xenique?” Jezebel asked. “Of a demigod? That the blood of the gods runs through our mother’s line?”
The sphinx nodded.
“But…we were always told her family was of the lower Soulguiders,” Jezebel argued. “An unimportant line.”
I let out a breath, my eyes falling closed. “Of course, we were.” I turned to my sister. “Xenique went to lengths to hide her Godsblood. Probably tampered with the histories and ruling classes to elevate other lines above her own.”
“Why?” Jez shook her head, but I didn’t quite understand her denial when I could see in her eyes she already knew the answer.
“It made her feel isolated. Why would she want her descendants to experience that, too? Something as powerful as the blood of a god could cause problems between clans.” I looked to the sphinx for a confirming nod. “It sounds like Xenique wanted peace between them all. She wanted her people to feel included, so she wove the secret of the Godsblood into their magic, their history, so no one could know.”
Did our own mother even know what ran through her blood?
Jezebel whirled on Erista. “Did you know?”
“Not everything.” The Soulguider’s eyes were wide and pleading. “I’ll explain later, I promise.”
Something stiff passed between them, and the fear clearly played out on my sister’s face. Had Erista known secrets about her throughout their entire relationship? Had that been the impetus for their bond in the first place?
Spirits, I hoped not. The heartbreak was already cracking across Jezebel’s features.
She shut it down, though. A coolness I wasn’t used to took its place.
Godsblood, I repeated to myself. We needed to figure out the rest of what the sphinx had to share, then we could leave, find the Soulguider emblem, and free the Angels—or their spirits—from their prison.
I plucked another question from the waiting line of them in my mind. “If we both have Godsblood, why is only my Angelblood active with the Angelcurse?”
“Twentieth birthdays are so important for Soulguiders, are they not?”
I blinked at the creature. My mother had always instilled that in us. When a Soulguider turned twenty, their true purpose was revealed to them.Twenty is an important year in your heritage, Ophelia, she’d said again and again as my birthday approached last year.
We’d shirked the idea, my sister and I, choosing Mystique traditions, but for half of our mother’s side, it had been an important year. And it was precisely that night, following my birthday celebration, that Damien appeared to me for the first time.
