The long corridor had been painted completely white, and faint lights were hidden every few feet, giving the hallways a sort of creepy glow. The only sound was their footsteps echoing off the walls and bouncing off the ceiling.
“I should have asked yesterday, but exactly how do you bond with a godstone?” Shey’s voice was barely more than a whisper, but it sounded significantly louder.
“From what little my mother was willing to tell me, it sounds like I’m not bonding with the stone but rather praying to the god to accept me as a vessel for his power.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“No, I guess it doesn’t,” Caelan murmured. He shook his head, trying to shed any lingering worries about linking himself with a god. When his mother was still alive, he’d not given his own eventual bonding much thought. His mother had always been young and strong, never suffering from any kind of illness. He’d always known that his own bonding with the Life Stone was a long way off.
Until the Empire attacked.
“There is no formal ritual or words that need to be said to invoke the bond. It’s supposed to be just you and the Godstone in the room. I think the god is supposed to speak to you, and you ask for his or her blessing.”
Shey stopped suddenly and looked at Caelan like he’d lost his mind. “You think?”
Caelan narrowed his eyes and took a step closer to Shey, refusing to be intimidated by the man’s size. “Yes, I think. I’ve done this the same number of times as you have. I’ve spoken to Queen Amara about it, but she didn’t go into great detail since my own bonding was supposed to be many years away from now.”
Shey at least winced at Caelan’s words and backed off. “I’m sorry.”
With a small huff, Caelan resumed walking down the hall with Shey quickly catching up. “It’s okay. I did try to get more details out of her once. She didn’t say much. Just that there’s no formal ceremony or prayer or offering. You just talk to the god and convince him that you’re worthy of his power.”
“How?”
Caelan shrugged. “I have no idea what the God of Storms deems worthy of him. In Erya, we focus on living a good, rich life. We focus on helping our neighbors and doing things that support Thia. I always thought if I upheld those values and protected my people, Tula would bless me with her power.”
“Shit. What is the name of the God of Storms?”
“I have no fucking clue,” Caelan muttered.
“This is not going to go well.”
Caelan was feeling the same way. His gut churned and his palms were growing sweaty. Even his fingertips felt cold. But it was far too late to turn around. Caelan needed the power of the God of Storms if he was to have any hope of saving his kingdom and stopping New Rosanthe.
At the end of the hall was another set of thick double doors as well as another pair of guards. The two guards moved to swipe yet another set of key cards, but Shey held up his hand, halting them, as he looked over at Caelan.
“Do you want to go in alone?”
Caelan shook his head. “No. You don’t have to talk, but I want you in there. I want him to see you when I make my case for both of us.”
Shey seemed to straighten a little more and dragged in a deep breath as if he were steeling himself against what was to come. Caelan wanted to warn him that it was unlikely to be as traumatic as he was expecting. From his experience with the Life Stone, if the gods weren’t interested in you, nothing happened.
But then, the God of Storms could prove him wrong.
With a nod from Shey, the guards unlocked the doors and pulled them open. Caelan found himself strangely relieved to find that the room that held the Godstone reminded him of the room in which the Life Stone resided at home.
He stepped inside, and the floor instantly changed from concrete to exquisite black marble while the walls were a paler seafoam-blue marble. In the center of the circular room was a magnificent blue stone that appeared to be roughly the same size as the Life stone.
And just like the Life Stone, the Wind Stone hovered approximately one foot off the ground.
As soon as they entered the room, the doors closed behind them with a resounding thud. Caelan gazed up and smiled to find that the ceiling actually stretched nearly a dozen floors straight up. They were under the lighthouse overlooking the harbor, and he could see nearly straight up to the light at the peak.
The air was tinged with the scent of the sea, and he swore he could hear the crash of the distant waves. Closing his eyes, Caelan breathed deep, listening to the rush of the wind and the far-off rumble of thunder.