I tried to keep the words that kept replaying through my head at bay. Tried and utterly failed.

The Underworld. Aidon had taken me through the Underworld. Not once, but twice now. I understood why Varian had been so angry. The Lord of Myridia had told me he’d become accustomed to traveling as they did in the Underworld. I should have known. Should have realized what that meant.

But the Underworld? A shiver went through me. It wasn’t just the memory of my strange dream. There were plenty of stories of gods and mortals alike finding themselves trapped there.

I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind. It wasn’t a time for fear or self-pity. Not when dozens lay injured in the infirmary. Not when a girl had just died.

And what a horrible death it had been.

With the temple now cleared and Elysa’s power dissipated, the moon dipping towards the horizon to flee the coming dawn, the massive chamber stood dark and silent but for the crackle of torches held by the guards around us.

We all stared down at the corpse that lay still on the marbled ground. Someone had hurriedly covered the body with a city guard’s white cloak, but a shock of yellow hair peeked out from the draping.

I swallowed thickly. “Is this . . .”

“The missing novice. Leda of Skyy,” the High Priestess answered. Sibyl sat on the ground, her knees tucked beneath her. Her veil was gone, probably lost to the chaos. A frizzy mass of curls stuck up around her face as she scrubbed a hand over her tear-swollen eyes. “I’m sorry to call you back here, my dear, injured as you are, but when I called for the High Healer, she refused to examine the body, the useless, superstitious old bat.”

Thankfully, Varian was beside me—the general in him taking over from the prince. “The novice is dead. I don’t see what aid Aurora can offer a corpse.”

“You know who her father is, my lord. I must offer the governor some explanation as to how his daughter reached such a grim ending,” Sibyl said tightly.

Varian tensed. “If you want Aurora to tend to anyone, shouldn’t it be the living? The infirmary is full of nobles just as powerful as the governor.”

But I looked at the High Priestess. She’d been like a mother to me. But not just to me. Her priestesses and novices and Korai were all her flock to tend. My heart ached for her.

I placed a hand on Varian’s arm and gave a small shake of my head before I knelt across from her, on the opposite side of Leda’s covered body. “Sibyl, I’ve never performed any sort of autopsy.”

“I know, my dear.” She sniffed. “Just use your gifts. Do what you can for the poor thing.”

I took a deep, steadying breath, then pulled back the sheet.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.

Behind me, even Varian hissed in shock. Because the body . . . It was impossible to believe that this twisted and disfigured corpse had—not even a week before—been the same young female who’d stubbornly refused to anoint Aidon at the Trial. The only hint that this body belonged to Leda was the perfect, untouched sheet of long hair. Even still . . .

“How can you be sure this is her?” I asked.

Her gaze shot to me, tears welling. “Do you think I’d not recognize you? This is Leda. I know it in my bones.”

We were all silent. Then Varian turned toward the nearest guard. “What have you learned so far?”

The male wore the white and gold that set him apart from Varian’s red Imperials. He held a torch aloft, setting his deep frown into shadows. He gestured to the right—to a hall that twisted away into darkness. “It seems she came from there, my lord. At the end of the hall, there is a stairwell that descends into the lower levels of the temple . . . At least, it once did. The door to the stairwell is sealed. That hall is now a dead end.”

“Wait,” I said, stomach churning. “Are you saying she was alive? That she walked from the hall herself? In this state?”

The guard licked bloodless lips. “Aye, my lady. I was on guard near the front doors. I saw her myself as she stumbled into the main chamber. At first, I thought she was some crone only half-possessed of her senses. Lost, mayhap. But then . . . then I saw her eyes. I’ve been in battle. I fought in the Shardian War and I’ve seen death aplenty. Her eyes were the eyes of the dead.”

“You said the doorway is sealed. Has anyone forced it open? Has anyone searched below?” Varian asked.

“They can’t,” Sibyl answered. “It’s been sealed for centuries. There was a group of priestesses who used the chambers in the undercroft . . . improperly. Or so it is said. Their order was disbanded and the lower levels sealed long before I came here. Not even I know how to open it.”

I looked down at the body. Her eyes were sunken and milky white. Skin pulled as taut as rawhide, it stretched too thin over her bones. Her lips were so shriveled that they pulled away from her teeth in a ghastly grin. Bile rose up the back of my throat. Swallowing it down, I lifted my hand. Light flickered at my fingertips.

Varian grabbed my arm. “Aurora . . . Do you really think it’s wise to touch her?”

“I have to.”

After a long moment, he released me.

Heat flared and I let my light roam. It drifted over her skin, then beneath it, searching out a sign of sickness. I focused on the feel of her. Every organ had failed. Withered one by one until the stress on her heart was too much. What strength it must have taken to carry this dying body even a single step. Yet, no matter how deeply my magic delved into the vital structures within her, I could find no cause of the destruction.

Slowly, tendril by tendril, I withdrew my light. Then I found it—a wound.

Leda wore nothing but a long-sleeved nightgown that might have once been white, though it was now so filthy that it was stained black in places. I pushed up one stiff, dark-stained sleeve and the smell that drifted from beneath her clothes told me what I would have known immediately had the chamber not been so dark.

“This is blood. Dried blood.”

I let the gentle, healing glow fade. A deep breath, a focused thought, and flame flickered to life in its place. The guards stumbled back at the sudden flare. I ignored the fear flashing across their faces and angled my palm towards the wound to get a better look at the damage.

It was worse than I thought. Both Leda’s smallest and ring fingers of her right hand curled inward in a haggard claw. I took her hand in mine, the skin as dry and frail as aged parchment. Black blood coated her wrist so thickly that I could not see her flesh. “Her wrist has been cut,” I said, turning the appendage to get a better look. “The ulnar nerve and artery have both been damaged.”

Horror contorted Sibyl’s face. “Are you saying this was a suicide?”

I shook my head. “If Leda was right-handed, this cut would have been impossible for her to make. Even if she wasn’t, the determination this would take . . .” I shuddered at the thought.

I extinguished my flames and sent my light back over the wound.

Pain slammed into me.

I fell back. Hands reaching for my skull, I knocked Leda’s arm away. Then it was gone. Just like what I’d experienced earlier, the pain vanished as if never there.

Varian pulled my hands from my face. I blinked, trying to focus on his features. “Aurora?”

I shook my head. “Someone did this. Whatever power they have . . . I felt it during the ceremony. I felt it again, just now. Whatever—whoever—did this, their magic is dark . . . wrong.”

Sibyl stood slowly, her face as white as the marble beneath her feet. “Dark?” She held her hand outstretched. Something lay in her palm. “This fell from Leda’s hand when you jostled her.”

It was a dark ring—onyx, something etched on its face in silver. It was a ring I’d seen before. “No. No, that can’t be right.”

“It seems our sweet Leda has left us a clue,” she said.

“Aidoneus’ signet ring,” Varian growled.

Sibyl’s usually soft features were distorted into something I didn’t recognize.

“No . . . Why would he do this?” I asked. “It makes no sense. His power is—”

“Death,” Varian said.

“You must find the Myridians, my lord,” said Sibyl. “Before they run for their ship.”

I stared at the ring—the ring that had been missing from Aidon’s hand that morning. Only a pale strip of skin had been where it usually rested. The floor felt unsteady beneath my feet. Silence roared its dread in my ears. Numb, I stared and stared until Varian pulled me away, pressing me into Parthenia’s waiting arms when we eventually reached my chamber.

In my mind, I saw that ring. I stared into the darkness until sleep dragged me into sweet oblivion.