Blood of Mystery Read Online Free Page B

displeasure and began to purr. “I’m not certain. As far as I know, none of the gods were slain in the war against Mohg. At least, none of the New Gods. The Old Gods were so strange and distant to us. Even though we worked with them, we understood them little. Then, so soon after the war, they faded away, back to their Twilight Realm. I suppose it’s possible some Old Gods perished in the battle, and that we didn’t even know about it.”
    Falken scratched his chin—in need of a shave, as usual. “Maybe,” he said, but that was all.
    They finished breakfast, then made their plans for the day. Melia mentioned that a message from the emperor had arrived just after dawn, inviting them to the palace tomorrow night.
    Falken rolled his eyes. “I haven’t been to so many feasts since we stayed at King Kel’s court.”
    “Or seen such poor manners,” Melia said with a look of displeasure.
    “Please,” Falken snorted. “That’s an insult to Kel’s wildmen. Have you seen how Ephesian’s courtiers eat? It must be high fashion to forgo using a napkin in Tarras.”
    Aryn shuddered. “Don’t remind me! My hand was so sticky after the Minister of the Treasury kissed it that I had to peel it away from his lips.”
    Grace supposed the invitation was largely her fault. In the absence of Lirith, it had been up to her to fulfill Ephesian’s ravenous new appetite for knowledge about morality and virtue. Grace wasn’t certain she was the best model in those topics, but she had enlisted Aryn’s help, and the emperor had gobbled up everything they had to tell him. Unfortunately, Ephesian had had a more difficult time convincing the members of his court—or the staff of his kitchens—of the value of moderation.
    “I really don’t see what you people have against feasts,” Beltan said in a wounded tone. “What could be wrong with eating until you burst?”
    Melia patted the big knight’s hand. “I think you just answered your own question, dear.”
    “Besides,” Grace said softly, “we have other things to do.”
    At once Beltan’s visage grew solemn. He nodded, as did the others. It was time to start searching again.
    In the ED, Grace had seen cases of phantom limbs: amputees who still felt the pain of appendages that were no longer there. In a way, what they were feeling was the same. Every time they sat at the table, it was agonizingly clear that some who should be there were not.
    What had happened those last seconds in the Etherion, they could only conjecture. The dome had been on the verge of collapse. Trapped on the other side of a chasm, Travis, Lirith, Durge, and Sareth had intended to use the gate artifact and a drop of blood from the Scarab of Orú to make their escape. But as Grace and the others waited outside, the four never appeared. Vani said transport through the gate was instantaneous. Which meant something had gone wrong.
    For a fortnight she had feared there hadn’t been enough time, that the Etherion had come crashing down upon the four before they had a chance to activate the gate. But the emperor’s army of laborers had worked swiftly, carting away the broken rubble of the Etherion so it could be built anew. Dozens of bodies were found in the destruction, some human, some not. But there had been no sign of Travis, Lirith, Durge, or Sareth.
    Which means they made it through the gate, Grace. They’re
alive, they have to be.
    But where? The gate artifacts had the power to whisk one between worlds, and with blood as powerful as that in the scarab, there was no telling where the four had ended up.
    As servants—more gifts from the emperor—cleared away the remains of breakfast, Melia announced she was going to visit the temple of Mandu the Everdying. Some of the gods had begun to accept followers of Ondo, Sif, Geb, and Misar into their temples, which meant the lost sheep no longer needed Mandu to care for them.
    “Mandu’s work is nearly done,” Melia said, “and I fear when it is, he’ll