Elios smiled sadly. “As benevolent as the gods were during their time of rule, they had already decided not to involve themselves in the matters of mortals. They did not have the emotional range of their creations, which meant—to put it simply—they did not care what happened.”
He walked to Calia’s side, tilting her chin tenderly with long fingers. “But there was one who did. She saw the potential of this land and its inhabitants, even if the others could not. She turnedtoward her oracles, scrying with bones to inquire of the future. In every variable, there were two commonalities.” He turned toward me. “The first being Arowan’s ruthless nature, for the situation was more dire than Calix knew. Arowan made offerings to a dark god, bargaining for more power than even could have wielded. If he had been successful, it would have meant the end of the fae.”
“And the second?” Sloane asked.
“The second was far more precarious. The bones foretold of two individuals, one Darrow and one D’Arcy. Their identities were concealed, but their union could at last bring peace to the land once more.”
Jasper hummed softly on the couch, drawing idle patterns along his leg as he collected his thoughts. “And this god, the one who intervened, they sent the sorceress to Calix?”
“Goddess,” Elios corrected. “And not quite. While mortals can communicate with the gods by prayer, it is not easy for them to reciprocate. There is no heavenly messenger capable of pigeoning correspondence. There is, however, a portal of sorts connecting the two realms where gods can come and go as they please. It is rarely used, except by those of us who walk between the worlds regularly.”
“You’re telling me the gods could be walking amongst us, and we wouldn’t even know?” Jasper asked. Elios raised his brow, gesturing to his body. “Ah, right. Still don’t understandthat, either,” he mumbled.
“The goddess descended without delay, hoping she would not be too late. She landed in a field of poppies, reaching out with her powers to draw Calix to her. And when he approached, he saw only what she intended for him to see,” Elios said.
“And what was that?” I asked, ignoring the rising hairs on the back of my neck.
“A sorceress kneeling in a field, ready to answer his prayers.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“All along,” Jasper said, resting his hand atop his bouncing knee, “it was a goddess who meddled between our peoples? Not a sorceress?”
Elios inclined his head. “It was never intended to become public knowledge. You can understand the uproar it would cause if the factions found out it was one of the gods who intervened, not the witches. But the lies told were not terribly far from the truth, for it was, in fact, the goddess of witchcraft who could not bear to see the world crumble.”
“Niandra?” Sloane asked.
Elios smiled at the mention of the goddess. “The very same. My mother is a primordial goddess, controlling far more than witchcraft, though that is the only name she bears. Even today, her power is one of the strongest and oldest among the gods. It knows no bounds and bows to no rules of nature as many others do.”
“That is how she created the curse,” I mused. “The sun and moon fell to her as their patron, and she alone controlled their blessing.”
“Niandra never intended for the curse to be standing long term. In fact, she hoped that the first match would see to its end, given the longevity of their relationship. Despite how they began, the chosen seemed to care for one another. More than that, their love was abundantly clear to everyone they met. How miraculous it would have been to see their unification give birth to a line of newfound peace. Of course, they were not so lucky.” He paused, undoubtedly stuck in another time as he stared into space. “However, I cannot help but selfishly be thankful for the turmoil created in my mother’s wake—regardless of the lives it cost. If the curse had ended there, the world as we now know it would be entirely different, and circumstances would not have placed Calia’s mother at my doorstep.”
The room was silent, letting the information Elios had supplied settle in all our minds. There was too much to take in, more than I ever thought possible. How was it that so much of our history was lost? And likely, knowing the transgressions of our ancestors, that it had been omitted on purpose? I turned to my wife, desperate for some sort of reaction, but she appeared unaffected. I was uncomfortable with the isolation I felt on her behalf, knowing she had borne this knowledge alone until now.
Calia was the key to everything, having ties to each significant player in this game. She was fae in nature, but held the natural divinity of the gods in her blood. “How did Leonora know about Calia?” I asked, running my hand over the sharp scruff along my jaw. “Her lineage has been a well-kept secret, one I assume has been partly hidden by the Vail.” I gestured toward Calix, who nodded in answer. “So, how did she find out?”
Ballard stepped up, clearing his throat. “Regrettably, that is where I come in. The covens, specifically the elders who lead them, have known the truth of our history for millennia. Niandra is sacred amongst our kind, having bestowed our powers unto us. We are her soldiers—her protectors—just as the Vail is. Ourtalents simply lie in protecting information rather than brute strength.” He paused, choosing his following words carefully. “There is much you don’t know about your mother, much your father never had a chance to tell you before he died, but let me say this: her crusade for power began centuries ago, well before you were born or imagined, and she has stopped at nothing to achieve it.”
Jasper leveled Ballard with a lethal gaze. “Rion knows more than most what his mother is capable of. Don’t presume to think we don’t realize what that cunt can do.”
Ballard slid his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “Aptly called. As for how she obtained the knowledge?” His eyes darkened, recalling a distant memory. “She dug her talons into a vulnerable young mind, twisting and molding it until they spilled long lost secrets which were never meant to reach the ears of anyone outside the covens.”
I grew up familiar with my mother’s greed and vicious nature, the quiet wrath that snaked through her veins, readying to strike. There were moments I looked back and wondered why I allowed myself to be manipulated so easily. How I thought doing her bidding would win me favor with a woman who would look upon the world in disdain.
“Makes sense why everything has been kept secret,” Jasper mumbled. “Though it would’ve been nice to know the gods came down for visits. What’re the odds I’ve met any of them?”
“If you had, I’m sure you would know,” Sloane said, settling back into the couch.
“Why do you say that?” he asked, turning toward her and plastering a smile upon his face. “Because I would have dazzled them with my wit and charm?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, because they would’ve likely found you insufferable and turned you into a toad.”
Elios studied Jasper, humming softly to himself. “A toad would be lost on him, I think. It seems like he would make a fine canine companion instead.”
Jasper gaped as the room filled with soft chuckles at his expense. Even Castor, the immovable prick, laughed. Though, it was quickly covered up with a cough.
Suddenly, Calia gasped, piercing me with her radiant gaze as she sat up suddenly, hands pressed to her cheeks. “Has Poppy had her pups yet? Please tell me I haven’t missed it.”
