If, of course, she could get inside.
A santi barred her way. She was a tall woman with a shaved head and a weary frown. “The temple is closed. Please evacuate the city. There are carts and coaches at—”
“My name is Elara Vincent,” Elara said, “and I’m here on behalf of my sister, the Childe Empyrean. I need to pray to the gods now, or we’re all doomed.”
It was dramatic but effective. The woman not only moved out of her way but made it her personal mission to usher Elara to the nearest sunroom. Apparently, she had a painting of the Childe Empyrean in her room here at the temple. Elara tried to considerthis sweet, even though the reminder that her sister was worshipped across the island never quite stopped being strange.
The sunroom was something she recognized in theory but hadn’t seen for a very long time. This one was growing tomatoes and sweet peppers, the tiled floor replaced with tilled earth that held rows and rows of planted fruit. Sun shone through the glass panels, trapping Elara in a thick cloud of heat that made her sweat. She ignored the discomfort and closed her eyes, hoping that the gods were actually around to hear her.
Irie, Obie, Mala. San Irie needs you like we’ve never needed you before. My sister needs you, too. I’m praying to you for salvation. If you can hear me, please help me save my home. I’ll do anything. Just—
“We’ve heard these words before,” said a smoky female voice, “and we’ve since discovered that the person who said them didn’t truly mean ‘anything.’”
Elara opened her eyes with a gasp. A beautiful twelve-foot woman stood before her, more majestic than any mural or statue had been able to capture. Instead of the golden ball gown she was usually depicted in, Irie wore a high-necked white dress under a hoodless robe. Her skin was smooth, her lips painted a deep gold, her pupilless eyes a deeper gold to match. Her braids were decorated by a golden crown.
Elara dropped to her knees, pressing her forehead against the warm soil. “Irie. Blessed be!”
Warm hands touched her cheeks and tipped her head up until Elara had nowhere to look but at that divine face. Her eyes filled with tears. Irie. She couldn’t believe it. Irie washere.
“Hello, Elara,” said the sun goddess. “I am able to reach youbecause you share blood with the Empyrean. Thanks to Iya, she is lost to us, but we can still talk to you.”
“We?”
To the left and to the right, two more giant figures appeared that Elara recognized from theology classes. Obie was a dark-skinned man in a milk-white suit with trousers that were embroidered with the phases of the moon. Over his shoulders was a matching robe, the hood pulled over his head so that only his jaw was visible. And Mala, wearing a pink ball gown with a ruffled skirt, had midnight curls loose around her head, crowned by a glowing halo of silver stars that twinkled as Elara stared at them. She was slightly shorter than both Obie and Irie, and she seemed younger somehow, but her presence was undeniable.
Somehow, Faron gazed upon this sight every day and didn’t maintain her piety. Elara had been in front of them for less than a minute and she already wanted to cry.
“I,” she managed. “I—Thank you. For coming. San Irie needs your help. If, in your infinite wisdom, you believe that this is the way our world should end, then I will try to accept that. But if you can share with me some way for us to win”—she lowered her gaze respectfully—“I’m here and I’m listening.”
The gods were silent for so long that Elara risked looking up again. All three were considering her as if they had never seen a human before. A small smile was on Irie’s face, though there was a melancholy to it that prevented Elara from smiling back.
“Before we can answer your plea, there is something you should know,” Irie said. Her hands urged Elara back onto her feet. One remained on her cheek, brushing away the single tear that had fallen. “The divine realm is our home. It’s home to the astrals.But it’s also home to godsbeasts. We, as gods, are the only ones who can survive the trip across realms for long periods of time without getting corrupted. Astrals must bond with summoners to maintain their form, let alone their minds. But godsbeasts… once they leave the divine realm, they become tainted. Feral.” Irie let out a sigh that seemed to make the world tremble. “The dragon Lightbringer was the first godsbeast to travel across realms, and we sent the first Empyrean, who you now know as Iya, to banish him back. But Lightbringer thought to emulate the astrals by melding their souls together, creating the first bond between man and dragon. He twisted Iya’s mind, and with all the power of the gods and a godsbeast, they were unstoppable. He and his followers, the generals who would band together to become the Langlish Empire, would have razed the earth if we hadn’t sealed him away.”
“How did you do that?” Elara asked with wide eyes. “If he was the Empyrean, how did you lock him in the Empty?”
“He was defeated the same way every tyrant is defeated: His own thirst for power exceeded his ability to cling to it,” said Obie.
“His Four Generals tired of living under his thumb and sought to overthrow him,” Mala said. “When Iya realized that he had been betrayed, he tried to relieve the generals of their dragons by opening a door between realms—to the Empty—to lock them into; instead, they joined forces to traphimthere. And once he was no longer in the mortal realm, we were able to seal the door for what we thought would be forever.”
“Until your sister set him free to save you,” Irie finished. “We tell you this now, Elara Vincent, because the threat that Iya poses to this world cannot be overstated. All dragons were brought here by Lightbringer, the bond was created by Gael Soto, and thus alldragons and Riders answer to them, to Iya, whether they want to or not. Only an Empyrean can lock them back in the Empty.” Her mouth twisted in sympathy. “Your sister has bonded with them, and so they have some control over her, too. She is lost to us. If we lend you our power, youmustsucceed where Faron has failed. You must defeat Lightbringer. You must imprison Iya. And, if necessary, you must kill your sister.”
Elara tried to arrange these words into an order that made sense, an order that didn’t mean she would have her sister’s blood on her hands. But they hung between her and the gods like a death knell.
“No,” Elara said when she could speak again. “No.How can you even ask that of me? If being the Empyrean meanskilling my sister, then I don’t want to be the Empyrean!”
Irie made a frustrated sound. “You truly are related to her. The fate of the world is at stake, and all you can think about is each other?”
Elara reared back in horror. Suddenly, the gods no longer looked divine and majestic. Instead, they were all-powerful giants who could end her without a second thought. “Did you try to get her to killme?”
“You are both powerful. You have both been touched by gods. Iya could take control of either one of you—he did, in fact, take control of one of you. This isn’t about you or your relationship. The world will end if you don’t—”
“I’m not hurting her,” Elara said. “I won’teverhurt my sister. There has to be another way.”
Silence followed her declaration, but Elara refused to be cowed into submission. Not about this. Faron was trapped in the palacenow, hurting and terrified, trusting Elara to do what she was no longer able to. They had both made a mess of things, but neither of them deserved to die for that.
And neither of them deserved to be the one to bring about that death.
They were stronger together. They would save this world together. And if the gods refused to see that, then Elara suddenly understood how they’d lost not one, buttwoEmpyreans.
