Page 142 of Threaded
She hadn’t shared all the truth with those gathered. They weren’t ready for it; not yet.
They weren’t ready to hear that Onita had the favor of not just one goddess, but two. Just as there were two moons in the sky. They weren’t ready to hear that tonight, they would be worshiping the power of not just Qhohena, but of the Unspoken One, the Silver Death, the Goddess of Wild Things and the Untamed.
After all, Zadione was also a Goddess of Tricks. At least those old journals and diaries had taught Mariahsomethinguseful.
Andrian, still beside her, extended a hand, and she took it.
The din of the crowd around her rose to an even higher clamor as she moved with him around the throne, glancing down once at thelunestairpanel that lay behind it. She stared at it for a heartbeat before lifting her head and training her attention on one of the massive, dulllunestairpillars on the side of the dais, the milky opaque stone beautiful even without the shine ofallumeto brighten its depths.
Mariah prayed desperately to anyone who listened that by the end of the night, those pillars would be filled with the light of freshly harvestedallume. More than the kingdom had seen since its first era. She moved to a pillar, bringing Andrian with her, until they both stood directly before it, close enough to touch.
The crowd quieted at her movement, confusion sweeping across the room. She saw Andrian shift beside her, and then heard shocked murmurs race as they saw what he’d withdrawn from his belt.
Her grandfather’s dragon-winged dagger.
Of course, knives were a part of any Solstice. The shedding of blood by the people of the kingdom into the earth was how the magic bound itself to the land.
But no oneeverstood this close to the pillars. And with that dagger now in Andrian’s hand, she knew the crowd had figured out what, exactly, she planned to do.
Don’t forget the pillars.
To touch the pillars was considered sacrilegious, an abomination of every blessing Qhohena had ever bestowed upon Onita.
And Mariah planned to do more than simply touch them.
It was what had driven the priestesses and the Royals from the palace. But if this worked, if she could show the kingdom that so much was wrong, that so much could be improved, then she would be one step closer to a better world.
A world where girls like her could have a place to belong, and girls like Ciana could have hope.
The murmurs of the crowd died into a hushed, stunned silence as Mariah inhaled once, turned to gaze up at Andrian, and extended her left palm to him and the knife he wielded.
The slice across her palm was quick and stinging, but she barely felt it.
The second blood welled to the surface of her skin, she moved her hand forward, palm open, still holding Andrian’s stare, and pressed it against the dull gray of thelunestairpillar.
Light erupted into the room, a flash so bright and vibrant it likely could be seen all the way across the Mirrored Sea.
That light lingered in the air for a moment, a blinding blaze, before it sank, coiling back into itself. As it condensed and receded to its point of origin, it formed a rope of power, a rope funneling not into Mariah but into the pillar itself. She withdrew her still-bleeding palm from the stone, and a single, silver-gold thread of light followed her, a flexible tether to that pillar.
Murmurs began in the crowd again, but this time, they weren’t horrified or shocked. Instead, they were excited and curious; the tenor shifting to something warm and vibrant.
Mariah smiled.
The wildness of the magic swirled around her. Theallumeshe was bringing into this world, tethered by not just Qhohena’s magic, but Zadione’s as well, also brought with it heat and energy and passion, and it was hard to resist its pull.
She’d felt that pull, too, on every other Solstice before this one. Hadn’t known why she and those around her …reactedso much differently on that night.
But now she knew, and it all made perfect sense. And she was grateful, then, that she’d felt this energy before, had known what to expect so she could resist its urges and complete her task.
It only took one glance at Andrian, though, for her resolve to waver. His burning intensity had taken root in his stare, his gaze ravenous at the sight of the blood on her hand and the magic spilling through the air.
Mariah forced her eyes away from his, pushing her legs to take a step towards the second pillar on the other side of the throne. Her movement was slow, though, and with a quick flash, Andrian shot out a hand and pulled the ties of her satin skirts. Unbound, they fell to the ground around her in a billow of fabric, leaving her clothed only in the lace bodysuit she wore beneath the skirts and the black heels on her feet.
She froze, glancing down at her now-bare legs before slowly turning to meet his gaze once again. His tanzanite eyes were on fire, his expression hungry as he surveyed her, razed her, devoured her.
Holyfuck.
She lifted her left hand, the same hand that was still bleeding, that thread of light still bound to her, and gripped his chin. Blood stained his skin and dripped onto his black shirt and the skin of his chest, the feral marking making her already heated blood go molten.