From Slave To Queen (Athena and Michael) novel Chapter 57

Chapter 57

I wasted my time lamenting, thinking about how to end it all before I came of age.”

“You know what?” She squeezes my hand.

“Take advantage of what you’re feeling, even if it’s thanks to him. Live. Don’t give in. Don’t resign yourself to your role. Use the interest he has in you to live, Elara.”

“Weren’t you the one saying his interest was the worst thing that could happen to me?”

“It probably is. But if you’re getting something out of it, maybe it’s not so bad.”

“You two are chatty today!”

We both jump, hands on our chests as if to calm our hearts.

Ank appears, stretching her arms as if she just woke up.

Do salamanders sleep? Maybe I should look that up…

Ank stares directly at Evanora, and Evanora does the same.

They watch each other without blinking.

“You’re a…” Evanora begins.

“You must be the White Banshee.”

I look intently at Evanora after hearing that name, hoping maybe she’ll give me an explanation, though I suppose it’s her hair that earned her the nickname.

Ank scurries across the chipped table and gives a little hop to get my attention.

I move closer and offer her my finger so she can climb up. The warmth of her body against my skin is pleasant, not quite painful.

“You know me?” asks the banshee.

“Of course,” Ank says, proud of herself. “I’m old enough to have heard of you. The banshee beloved by magic who renounced the Old Gods to worship Lilith.”

Evanora’s expression darkens immediately. I look at both of them, frowning.

Once again, things are slipping past me.

The look they give each other becomes even more tense, if that’s possible.

I begin to suspect there are some old grudges between them.

“Will someone explain what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” the banshee simply replies.

“What does that mean, ‘Old Gods“?” I keep digging.

Evanora sighs and retreats further onto the table, crossing her legs and directing her gaze to anywhere but me.

It’s dear I won’t get answers from her, so I lift Ank to my face until she’s at eye level.

I give her my best smile, one I hope reaches my eyes.

“Would you be so kind as to explain it to me, Ankhiale?”

I can’t say no when you use my full name,”

She clasps her hands under her chin and gives us a flutter of her lashes before sitting on my finger as if it were a chair, and then she begins to speak again

“The Old Gods, as their name suggests, are the gods who existed before what you now know,

Before that egocentric man who thinks he’s the only one

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Chapter 57

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“And why haven’t I heard of them?”

“Because you forgot them–the moment they retreated to rest and you fell into the clutches of the false God and that demoness.”

Ank’s tone is angry.

“But they haven’t forgotten us. They’re still here, and one day they’ll make you pay for forgetting them.”

“Demoness?”

“She means Lilith,” Evanora clarifies.

She makes a sound of resignation before continuing to speak.

“Surely you’ve heard of white magic witches and dark magic witches.”

I nod.

“Well, a white witch practices magic by offering to the Old Gods, while a dark witch does so in the name of Lilith.”

“You’re forgetting the most important part,” Ank grumbles.

What part? That nearly all fairies are followers of them?”

“No, not that–though she’s right,” says the salamander, looking only at me. “What Evanora hasn’t told you is that a dark witch has no soul. She gives it to Lilith, who feeds on them. The Old Gods would never ask for something like that. Our soul is our pass to the lands to come. Without it, there’s nothing after.”

I bring a hand to my temple, feeling like the information is a slap across my face. Too much to take in at once.

“If you think I’m so horrible for not having a soul, what are you doing under the roof of one of Lilith’s sons?”

Ank jumps slightly on my finger, and the salamander actually seems affected by her words. Her hair, always wreathed in flames, seems to dim a little, and her gaze drops to the floor.

“I made a promise to a daughter of Lilith, and I intend to keep it.”

“I take it that daughter you’re speaking of must’ve died in one of the great massacres of the Pure.”

My hands act on their own, stroking the tiny head of Ank as if I could somehow offer comfort. Ank lifts her eyes, which until now had always been two warm, burning flames, but now are bluish and dim.

“That’s right”

“Humans can be cruelly clever sometimes,” Evanora comments, and I feel her body move closer to us, as if she too wants to offer some comfort. “Someday, they’ll get what they set out to achieve.”

“Believe me, I’m the one who hates herself the most for doing this, but I have to ask–what exactly did the humans set out to do?”

“A Pure can only be born from the union of a Pure man and a Pure woman.”

Evanora makes a gesture with her hands to add one plus one.

“Throughout history, there have been two great massacres where humans hunted the Pure women and killed them, making sure no more Pures could be born.”

“That doesn’t solve the problem with the Diluted,” I comment.

“No, the Diluted increase in number very quickly,” she concedes.

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