The reminder of Netharis strikes hard, its blade sharp.
But it’s overridden, cast aside by the surprise in hearing Cenviri has turned upon the hells.Thereis the motivator behind the Layer Lords’ agitation—the reason they antagonize Vaelyn. The loss of Cerwiden’s dominating House denies the archdemons access to hundreds of thousands of fae and humans.
It’s more than a significant blow to their ability to offer and close on contracts. It’s a lethal one. The power structure of the hells will grow unstable, if it hasn’t become so already.
And while there are millions still to choose from throughout the country, power seeks power, and powerful souls are more likely to bolster Cenviri’s ranks.
Vaelyn isn’t simply floundering as a god.
He’s failing.
I don’t understand how.
Netharis taught him everything.
Hewas the one chosen to be the heir of the hells.
“All of this to say, there are things I need you to hear.” Cenviri’s intense gaze pins against me. “As to why Fate has arranged this moment.”
“Fate has provided enough for me to contend with,” I counter, my tone sharp. “Appeal your plight elsewhere, necromancer.”
His brows fly high as a smile brightens his features.
“Then let me make myself worthy of theil-akivand her time,” Cenviri replies, letting his hands fall to his sides. “You came to Illa Ysari for something. If not to take the citadel, for what?”
“Its archives,” I answer, seeing no reason to deny it. “When we opened this gate, it was not Cerwiden we hoped to find.”
Cenviri chuckles, nodding. “Quite the difference.” He folds his arms over his chest. “I can help you find the archives. If I give you that, will you listen to what I have to say?”
“A barter?” I reply with a laugh. “I am in no position to help you with the gods, Cenviri. Vaelyn has set his sights upon me as well.”
In a rather convoluted, manipulative way.
“And why wouldn’t he?” Cenviri nods. “As long as you exist, you’re a threat to his reign. I assume he’s presented you with twooptions?”
“No,” I answer as both confusion and suspicion snakes through me. “He’s presented me with nothing. But he works to have others do what he won’t.”
“Messy,” Cenviri notes.
“Agreed,” I sigh.
Contracted to Vaelyn or not, I didn’t come prepared tobarterwith a necromancer. The plan was to deliberate thatafterfinding what I need.
“I’m not proposing an exchange of information for your help,” Cenviri says and again his head tilts slightly. “I’m proposing an exchange of information, nothing more. I give you what you need to access the archives, you give me your time to listen. There’s much you should know. Much that will involve you whether you want or not.”
I remain silent, mulling over his words.
It’s too earnest an exchange.
My benefit is clear.
Where is his?
“I do not claim to know what trials Nektos has laid upon you, but Fate oft demands blind trust,” Cenviri says and his gaze sweeps along each of us. “I’m not asking for that either. I’m asking for the chance to give you a more… comprehensive understanding of what’s happening to our realms.”
“Is this to be a contract?” Eve asks and Cenviri’s attention darts to her.
“No.” He shakes his head in a slow toss. “I’ve come to enjoy not being demon bound.”
