Page 72 of Vanquished Gods
My jaw dropped. “You?”
“We were fighting the Order, and at that time, we killed anyone connected to them. Orders of the Mormaer. He thought it would send a message to those aiding them if we killed all the Raven’s informants. Of course, it didn’t. The Order always managed to be more terrifying than us. But I’d been given an order by the Mormaer to kill your father. I didn’t know you, not then. So, when I was sent to kill him, I did. When Sion found out, he raced to Briarwood to try to stop me, but it was too lateto save your father. I’d already ripped out his throat. You were there, too, and the blood-hunger took over, like Sion knew it would. The truth is, Elowen, I would’ve killed you, too, if Sion hadn’t stopped me. He nearly ripped my head off trying to keep you safe. And that was the first time you learned about vampires, but then we made sure you forgot again.”
Sorrow tightened its grip on my heart. The ground beneath me felt unsteady, as if the world itself was disintegrating. The images were there, half-formed in my mind, memories clawing their way back to the surface.
“What do you mean, you made sure I forgot again? I only remember flashes of Sion covered in blood, of white flowers, the bloodstained anemones.” My voice shook. “How did you make me forget the rest?”
“Vampires like Sion and me, who are old enough and skilled enough, can take your memories away,” Maelor said. “And when he saw how you were looking at him that day, that’s what he did. He erased all your memories of him.”
I felt like I was shattering from the inside. “Why? Why did he care?”
“Once, you and Sion were friends,” Maelor said quietly. “But he should be the one to tell you about those details. I wasn’t there for that.”
My mind was on fire. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why didn’t Sion?”
“Sion didn’t tell you because he’s better than anyone at keeping secrets. And I didn’t tell you because it’s actually a bit difficult to tell people that you murdered someone they love. You know what that’s like, though, don’t you? You never told Sion about Bran.”
My lips tightened. “So, you know about that.”
“I suspected it, and then you pretty much confirmed it.”
The wind whipped over me. “But you don’t seem particularly upset by it.”
His lips curled in a faint smile. “I fucking hated Bran. He was arrogant, loud, drunk on the thrill of killing. If you hadn’t killed him, I might have.” He glanced at me, his silver eyes burning. “But even if I didn’t hate him, I would’ve kept your secret.”
I hugged myself as we walked. “Epona isn’t quite as discreet as you. She found his butterfly pendant under my mattress. Showed it to those six soldiers who now lie in ashes. It’s part of what persuaded them to arrest me.”
As we climbed higher up the steep, craggy hill, a golden light flickered against the dark sky, and the scent of smoke curled into the air. Panic climbed my throat, and I grabbed Maelor’s arm. “Fire,” I whispered.
We were moving before I could think—racing faster than the maelstrom winds, a rush of speed up the hill. The dark rocks blurred beneath our feet, and when we reached the top, a circle of fire greeted us, licking at the dark sky around the rowan grove.
Between the flames, Epona lurked, draped in white. “There you are, my husband.”
“Where is Sion?” Maelor bellowed.
“You abandoned me, Maelor. You were supposed to love me. But when Pearl died, you disappeared with her. I should have buried you in her grave with her. You left me alone, Maelor. And when I broke, Sion was the one who put me back together. You tried to kill me, and he saved my life. You drained my blood; he gave me immortality. That’s why we belong together. We are gods, Sion and me. We don’t drown in guilt like you do. We revel in what we are.”
With a low growl, Maelor shot through the fire, too fast for the flames to catch him. Fear flickered through me, but I followed, the heat searing my skin as I raced through. At the center of the grove, Sion hung wrapped in the rowan’s vines,their red berries shining in the firelight like drops of blood. The vines coiled around him, digging into his flesh, binding him to the tree as the fire crept closer, hungry for him.
“Maelor, help me!” I yelled, throwing myself at the roots, tearing at them with all my strength.
Maelor rushed to my side, abandoning Epona, and tried to rip the vines binding Sion’s body.
Epona’s voice rose behind us. “No one will love him like I do. Elowen, you betrayed him. First, you made love to his oldest friend, then you murdered another. You killed Bran. You don’t deserve Sion. Neither of you does. I’m going to protect him from you both.”
By burning him to death?
Epona threw herself into attacking Maelor, stabbing him with a sharpened stake from behind.
She missed his heart, and he whirled to fight her.
I snarled, now using my fangs to cut into the vines, smoke burning my throat. But every time I ripped them away, they slithered back around him. Some of them pierced his skin, running right through his muscles.
The fire pressed in, hotter, closer. I kicked off my boots to feel the earth beneath me. Magic was at work here. This jail of vines wasn’t something the brute strength of a vampire could solve.
A curse could only be defeated by a witch.
Magic pulsed through me as I gripped the vines, slipping into the cursed roots, and for a brief, glorious moment, I felt alive again. My heart beat as if I were human as my consciousness mingled with the tree’s.