Because he knew me. And not just the pieces I wanted to show the world, the good and kind parts of me. He knew me at my absolute worst. The dark desires and jealousies and anger that I wanted to keep hidden—he had seen them all. I didn’t think there was anyone who knew me the way he did.
Why hadn’t I realized that before? I swallowed down the emotion I was feeling and instead continued my explanation.
“Priestesses and acolytes connect to an aspect of the goddess. And then when they say her name combined with the aspect, magical thingshappen. When Io did it for the first time, she used the life mage’s words and made every single flower in the courtyard bloom. We’re more powerful than the life mages and we don’t need their amulets. I think magic was always intended for women.”
“Io?” he echoed, and I realized how strange it must be to discover that his sister could wield magic.
“Performing magic drains them just like it does with the life mages. Io passed out and slept for hours before she recovered. Zalira thinks they need to train, and that it will strengthen them.”
“You could go to the temple to train. I don’t want anyone seeing what your sisters can do.”
My sisters being condemned for using magic was a real possibility. The people in Ilion might consider it blasphemy because they had been told their entire lives that only men could do it.
One more thing I needed to question Lysimache about.
“That’s a good idea,” I said.
“What other powers do they have?” He tilted his head toward the wall we shared with Io’s bedroom.
“Ahyana can control pollinators, which was why that cloud of bees appeared when we camped overnight on our way to Lycia. Zalira’s always been connected to water and storms, but as far as I know, she hasn’t had a chance to try her magic yet. And Suri—when Erisa asked how the five of us could bury the bodies so quickly, it was because Suri made a hole big enough by herself. She finds hidden things and manipulates the earth.”
Another long silence. I understood. This was a lot to unload on him all at once.
“Can Artemisia do magic?”
“I don’t know.” By the goddess, I hoped not. That was the last thing we needed. “I have to assume that Lysimache told her that the women in the temple could potentially wield it.” It would explain why Artemisia had gone to the effort of murdering them all, why she risked going to a heavily guarded palace to try and kill me and my adelphia.That wasn’t some grudge—she had wanted to make certain that no one could stand in her way.
“Now the five of you are all that’s left.”
“Yes. And Antiope, if she wakes up.”
He began to absentmindedly rub his thumb against the back of my hand and I tried to ignore the warm tingles shooting up my arm.
“You’re being very forthcoming,” he said in a quiet tone.
Not entirely. I still hadn’t told him about the eye of the goddess. I ignored the pang of guilt I felt and said, “Don’t you think we should be?”
“By all means. I’m just a little concerned that you’re some kind of shape-shifter and not actually my wife.”
I smiled at his joke. “No, it’s me.”
Our gazes met and my stomach tightened at what I saw. The look in his eyes—it was the same as when he had hovered above me and told me that I would be his undoing. The honeyed wine might have pushed him into saying it, but despite his denial, it felt as honest now as it had then.
He cleared his throat and looked down at our joined hands. “Why is your hand sparkling?”
“Luna sneezed.”
“She sneezes shimmering flakes?”
“Apparently.” I was glad I wasn’t the only one confused by her.
He let out a dramatic sigh. “Such a mess. I should have thrown her out the window the first night we found her.”
I was prepared to become indignant on her behalf until I realized that he was joking. “Maybe this is why she won’t talk to you.”
“Maybe,” he agreed. I loved that glimmer in his eyes, the way he half smiled at me.
Now I was the one clearing my throat and changing the subject. “Where is Lysimache?”
