I desperately wished it were as simple as a prank.
A Devout stepped forward. Her hair was shaved, her nose was dotted with red paint, and she wore gray and shapeless robes. I tugged at my coat and then chided myself for showing my nerves. The Devout could use a portion of the Undergod’s power to see the dead and perform miracles the unbelievers called magic. The truly dedicated, the priests of the Undergod, could command bones to move or control the monstrous beasts that crept from the underworld. “Hush, Grig.” I bowed to the Devout and Grigfen followed suit. “Peace and honor to you for your devotion.”
The Devout answered our bows with one of her own. “And to you for your reception.”
I held the cup behind my back. “I’m looking for my uncle.”
“His holiness is in his chambers. May I be permitted to lead you toward him?”
“I thank you for your service.”
The Devout turned. Grigfen barely held back a laugh. The shadows of his almost laugh echoed against the walls like a flickering candle.
A bead of sweat traced down my back. Well, I’d found him.
Now what was I going to say?
As the second son, Uncle Edvarg was encouraged to go into the priesthood of the Undergod. He took to it well—too well, some said. It showed too much ambition the way he ascended to the rank of high priest. People whispered about deaths they could not explain, in which Edvarg profited. My parents ignored such rumblings, and so did I.
Uncle Edvarg would help me. He had to.
The catacombs air tasted of silt, torch oil, and candle wax. The bone walls seemed almost made of bricks, each bone slightly different, but united in their anonymity. The office of the Holiest was open, the wrought iron door held ajar by a loose stone. Inside a room of bones, Uncle pored over a map at his gilded desk. The ceiling was formed of rib cages, with a striping of sunlight cascading on my uncle, unleashing the creator’s wisdom on anyone the light fell upon.
Uncle Edvarg’s lips pressed lightly before bending into a smile. “Nephew! So good to see you. So tell me, what did the Savak cleric want?”
“What cleric?” Grigfen asked. “I may have missed something when I was down to the tables.”
“Ah, Sir Grigfen. I thought I smelled cheap cologne.”
Edvarg waved away the Devout. She gave a low bow, touching her forehead to her wrist before exiting.
The door stayed open.
I let out a breath. It was a relief to no longer be alone with this.
“The cleric brought a gift.”
“Ah?” Edvarg squinted.
I lifted the cup.
Edvarg gestured it away, but I held it firm. “You have to see the future. Our kingdom depends on it.”
He turned back to his papers. “Says the heathen.”
“Father drank.”
Edvarg stilled.
I pushed the drink forward across his desk. “So did the other four members of the council. And their vision—”
“Wait.” Grigfen’s face flushed red. “My father drank from the Seer Spring?”
I gripped Grig’s shoulder. “What they saw … It’s terrible, Uncle. The Savak queen will try to destroy us all, but we have a plan to stop her. You need to drink, so you can see the plan and help us survive.”
“The council drank seer water?” Edvarg murmured. He pressed his index finger over his lips, considering. He pointed to the scroll. “And what is that?”
I unrolled the parchment and laid it out over the papers on the desk. I knocked over a small idol, but I didn’t right it. “After they drank, they all agreed this was necessary to save our people.”
Uncle’s neck pulsed. “They disavowed our god in favor of the heathen spring?”
Father said Uncle would help. He had to. He was the only family I had now. I’d give him one last chance—one last opportunity to be who my parents thought he was. “Trust me, Uncle. They are trying to save us.” I moved around the desk. “Please, Uncle Edvarg. You need to drink to see the future and help protect us from what is coming.”
Grigfen stepped to the desk, his fingers tracing the scroll as he read the words. “They left us for the Savak? Why would he leave without saying goodbye?” Grig ran both hands through his curls and stepped away. His face crumpled.
“They wouldn’t have, if the danger wasn’t real,” I insisted. “Please, Uncle, you need to believe me. Drink the seer water, and I’ll let you rule as adviser until Father comes back.”
Uncle Edvarg’s cheek creased, and his eyebrows lifted as he read the words. My muscles tightened, but I had to trust that his ambition would be stronger than his piety. I was offering him the throne.
“I could believe you, but never the Savak. My foolish brother has been tricked by them and he’s turned a traitor,” my uncle announced.
“No. He’s trying to save us. If you drink the seer water, you will see why.”
“My brother has renounced his god-given duty to our people, and in the Undergod’s name, I must assert my claim for the throne he’s left behind.”
I shuddered. “I’m giving you the throne.”
“No. You, my traitorous nephew and your disheveled friend, are the only things standing in my way.”
Edvarg raised both hands, his thumbs touching in a summoning pose. A green mist spread from my uncle’s fingers, lighting the curve of his cheekbones, leaving shadows under his eyes.
I rocked back. The glowing light filled the room.
“Stop,” I commanded. I darted a glance to Grig, my body flushing hot. I should have never allowed him to accompany me.
“What’re you doing?” Grig’s eyes widened.
My uncle pulled his arms down and the bone walls shuddered. A crack and a whiff of bone dust and floating bones flew toward him and congealed together into half-formed, animated skeletons.
I flinched back. The Undergod’s own power.
Grig swore and joined my side. His hands lifted into fists.
“Uncle,” I whispered. I couldn’t stop staring at the half-formed creatures. Bones formed where bones should not be, deer antlers for hips, a skull from a beast I could not name serving as a set of ribs. The Undergod’s power to move the dead was a sacred gift bestowed only on the most righteous. Such holiness should only be used for protection from the lich and against our enemies.
Never against me.
“Will you disavow your father,” Uncle asked me, “and kneel before me as your king?”
We huddled in shocked silence. “Not bloody likely,” Grig said.
I shook my head. No matter what power my uncle wielded, I would never betray my father. Uncle knew that. Uncle leaned forward, his eyes firm on mine, the side of his mouth hooked up like a jagged lure.
He wanted me to stand against him. He didn’t want me to cower. He wanted me dead.
My body tensed and I found a store of rage I’d never cracked into before. I bared my teeth, drunk with my anger, off-my-head tipsy with a need to right this wrong. How dare he threaten me? He didn’t just betray me, he betrayed my father. I drew my sword.
Uncle pulled more bones from the wall. The ceiling above us cracked.
My heart thundered in my chest, and my throat tightened. “I won’t.”
“Shame.” Edvarg sat at his desk. The side of his mouth twitched like he was hiding a smile. The bone-formed creatures crept toward us at his command. “If you won’t stand with me, then you must be removed.”