A Stone-Kissed Sea Page 92

“If Laskaris’s stores of Elixir aren’t here,” Baojia said, “then we both know where he moved them.”

“Alitea.” Lucien stepped away from the empty crates and headed toward the doors. “Make sure all the humans are out,” he said. “Then tell Brigid to destroy it all.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The grey island rose from the sea, a massive fortress of natural rock hewn by time and immortal hands. From the outside, it looked like nothing more than a solid wall of rock. Kato stepped from the yacht, his arm around Saba, and walked across the water to the massive stone wall. The sea calmed beneath him. The ocean swells fell flat. They walked toward the fortress of Alitea in silence.

Saba raised a hand, flicked her wrist, and a massive groaning crash sounded across the water. The gate of the fortress moved aside slowly, revealing a dark passage concealed by the wall.

Long rowboats left the yacht as one, propelled toward the dark passage by water vampires in each one. Kato walked into the darkness ahead of them, Saba at his side as Arosh and Ziri flew behind them.

“With me.” Carwyn put a hand on the small of her back. “Stay with me, Makeda.”

Carwyn had also taken the gentle Kiraz under his wing. She was a little thing, and her eyes were huge. She gaped at the yawning chasm they entered, clearly frightened of the battle to come.

Makeda didn’t feel frightened. She didn’t feel anything. She’d locked down her emotions like she did in all emergencies, calming her heartbeat that wanted to rage and focusing on one very important thing.

Staying alive.

Like Kiraz, Makeda was no warrior, but she did have Kato’s training. If she needed to, she could dive to the bottom of the ocean and sit there for days, she’d decided. Lucien would find her eventually.

The glow of the night sky greeted them as the tunnel opened up to a large harbor surrounded by high stone walls.

Alitea was a fortress out of some ancient fantasy.

She had no idea how they hid it from above, but inside the stone walls lay a massive harbor fronting a city straight out of Greek mythology. Rows of marble pillars—garishly painted with gold and deep jewel tones—lined the dock where their boats came to rest.

Along the seawalls surrounding the harbor rose a city built into the cliffs, shielded from the sun by a massive rocky overhang that must have been held by immortal energy because Makeda could see no other reason it didn’t come crashing down. Trees and vines grew on sumptuous terraces hanging over the harbor. Flowers tumbled from balconies. Hundreds of immortals stood on the walls of the city, watching Kato as he stepped ashore.

Every one of them was silent.

Makeda did everything in her power to remain impassive, but the overwhelming grandeur of Alitea stole her breath away. The docks embraced them, two giant arms of dressed white stone curling into the harbor where their boats floated. Along the docks, armed guards in helmets and breastplates stood holding torches. More torches lined a pathway bordered by more pillars, fountains, and statues, stunning works of art unlike anything Makeda had ever seen.

Far from the blank stares of white marble she was accustomed to, these statues were painted to vivid life, with eyes that seemed to follow their party as they mounted the stairs and walked toward the massive stone temple nestled against a steaming mountain.

“Is that… a volcano?” she asked Carwyn.

“Yes.”

“And they live here?”

“Many live here. The volcano belongs to Eris,” Carwyn said.

On the slopes, Makeda saw dense greenery spreading. Fragrant flowers joined the smell of citrus and sweet wine. She saw figures darting among the buildings and narrow streets that angled off the main thoroughfare, but she heard no buzz of conversation or bustling carts. All she could hear was the faint and growing strains of harp and lute.

“Sofia holds the island together,” Carwyn continued, “and conceals it from prying eyes. Jason is… Jason. He’s barely conscious most of the time. But it’s Laskaris we need to worry about.”

“Four members of the council. Four elements?”

“I believe Lucien thinks the blood needed to make Elixir is coming directly from the four members of the council.”

They walked up the broad stairs and into a massive temple with five thrones raised on a dais at the end. On the thrones were four brightly colored statues where vampires bowed in worship and prayer. Makeda saw them, coming and going from the sides of the hall, bearing baskets of fruit and fish. Wineskins and goblets were placed at their feet.

Makeda’s eyes widened when she caught the scent. “Is that blood? Why would they be giving statues—”

“Not statues.” Carwyn nudged her shoulder. “Watch.”

If she hadn’t been watching, she would have missed it. The frozen woman on the throne to the right of center appeared to blur for a moment, then came back into focus. The goblet of blood at her feet had tipped to the side, and a slight flush stained the woman’s lips.

“They’re alive,” Makeda said. “That is the council?”

“Yes.”

So ancient they appeared as statues. So fast she’d almost dismissed the movement as her own imagination. Makeda examined the four immortals.

“Why are they frozen?”

“They’re not frozen,” Carwyn said. “They’re still. If you or I wanted to—if we were content to simply exist—I suppose we could look the same. But that seems…”

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