I purse my lips. “The pantheon isn’t united?”
Do they not work together to plague mortals?
Lilith reels back, giving me quite the scrutiny-filled and judging glare. “They’re not any more united than the council,” she laughs. “I would have figured that much was obvious after meeting Celesta.”
“Beyond Netharis, I’ve little experience with the gods,” I reply.
“Though,” Lilith says, her brows lifting, “I believe Nektos is the one entity they would rise to meet. She’s older than the pantheon, steeped in the old ways.”
“You mean like the primordials?” I ask, my curiosity growing.
She nods. “None have seen her. Yet we all know she exists. Same with Aether, Chaos, Life…” she trails off, letting the words hang for a moment.
“But you’ve seen the gods?”
She answers with another nod. “Many people have. And never all in the same place. They like to be lavished in attention. Helios and Helias appear during sunset of the summer solstice in Solis for example. Indui has been known to lurk about Ashemere among her blessed. Drithys presented herself during my Joining.”
The goddess of mercy.
Appropriate considering Lilith’s hints regarding the nature of her relationship with Thalion. Though it seems only Lilith took the blessing to heart.
“Makes me wonder which god, if any, will bless your union,” Lilith says, her head tilting with the thought.
A weak smile pulls at my lips. “I must not have gotten that far inThe Joiningyet.”
Her glare turns flat.
Shifting under the weight of her stare, the painting beyond her catches my attention. Framed in gold, it depicts a white balcony high above a raging ocean on the night of a full moon. A white tower perched on bluffs under a starless sky. It gleams in the moonlight—something about it feelsfamiliar.
Like I’ve seen it before.
Before I can recall the countless paintings in the hall leading to Netharis’ study, Lilith speaks.
“I’ll forgive you for the offense if you confirm what a little bird told me earlier this morning,” she says with a teasing smile.
“You can speak with animals?” I ask, leaning forward in my seat, sounding more incredulous than I’d like.
I’m convinced she’s a forest fae.
Or at least a descendant.
Somehow.
She bubbles with golden laughter. “No, Ves. I cannotspeakwith animals. I tend to forget you’re more literal than most.”
“You confuse me for Cyran,” I retort, leaning back in my seat as disappointment settles in.
If shecanspeak to animals, she can help me understand the raven. Figure out who or what it is and what it wants—that is… if I ever see the damn thing again.
“Cyran is the little bird,” she laughs. “I saw him accept a delivery from one of Ollora’s renowned silversmiths. I didn’t think anything of it until he made straight for the stairs.”
Lilith is more observant than she needs to be.
“Tell me you don’t have Ryc’s gift,” she challenges, grinning.
“I don’t have Ryc’s gift.”
“Don’t play coy with me,” she chimes, laughing. “The slight bulge in your boot isn’t a swollen ankle.”
