Itwouldbe nothing…but it would besomethingto Aya. Something to her soul. She would not be the Dark Saint Evie had tried to make of her. She would not let the fears of the citizens of Eteryium be realized. Not by her.
“Instead,” Aya continued as she held Hyacinth’s gaze, “I will grant you the mercy your faith should have taught you.”
She took a step back, her muscles easing with the certainty of her decision.
“Take her to the dungeons,” she ordered the Dyminara. To Hyacinth, she added, “Perhaps, with time, you’ll finally accept the truth about your gods.”
62
Pa had always said the Phanmata, the ghosts of Aya’s nightmares, could do her no harm. They were mere spirits lingering in between waking and sleep, contained in that in-between.
But as Aya walked through the streets of Dunmeaden, the hood of her cloak pulled over her head for some measure of anonymity, she wondered if perhaps, like Evie, thePhanmatahad escaped their prison and lived instead in these very streets.
It wasn’t just that the town, with its burnt husks of buildings, looked nothing like the place Aya had grown up—the place she’d tried to conjure in her mind in her darkest hours in Kakos. But the people had changed, too. Talans had always had a hardness to them, but the grief carved in these faces was something only war could birth.
Her people were suffering, and she was afraid it would only get worse.
Aya clenched her teeth against the stiffness of the new fighting leathers Galda had given her and pulled the hood of her cloak further over her head, her stride quick as she cut through the Relija.
She’d spent hours the night of her and Will’s rescue recounting all that had transpired in Kakos. And when her throat hadgone sore, her voice fading from all her talking, Will and Liam filled in the pieces, until Mathias and Pa and Nyra and Sarhash and Galda knew exactly what they were facing.
Her father had insisted there must be another way to mend the veil—one that didn’t require Aya to sacrifice herself in the process. He’d spent the last few days deep in the Synastysi, him and Will and Nyra, all working to find some information that might help them both fix the veil and defeat a demigod.
There were far more ancient religious texts than what Aya had gone through in her brief stint studying under Hyacinth, and yet she did not hold much hope at the prospect of them finding something with regards to the first endeavor. Her own research had turned up frustratingly empty.
Galda, however, had chosen a more direct approach. She was questioning Hyacinth at this very moment.
Aya quickened her pace. Suja had insisted on tending to her for the last several days, confining her to a bedroom in the palace, butnow…
Aya had her own research to do, her own dreaded theory to confirm. And yet, there was a stop she needed to make first.
Her shoulders loosened once she reached the forest. This, at least, still felt familiar, even if her own skin didn’t. Aya tried to push the thought from her mind as she hiked up to the Athatis compound.
She swallowed against the thickness in her throat as she pushed the gate open. The barn looked just as it always did, its white wood worn in a welcoming sort of way. Aya’s complicated feelings about the Divine aside, there was still a reverence here, and it slowed Aya’s steps as she approached the barn. It was empty save for a few wolves who were lounging in straw-covered stalls.
Aya stopped when she reached the middle one, her eyes burning as she caught sight of the jet-black wolf.
Aster always did love to be the center of attention. Justlike her bonded, Tova.
“Hi,” Aya murmured as she stepped into the stall. Aster let out a heavy sigh as she pushed herself up from her lounging position, as if the smallest of movements were impossibly difficult. Aya dropped to her knees beside the wolf, her hand stroking the space between her eyes, just as she’d seen Tova do more times than she could count.
Aster’s eyes closed slowly, her shoulder leaning into Aya as she let out a weary huff.
“I miss her too, girl,” Aya assured her. She let her tears fall as she pressed her face into Aster’s fur.
The bond between an Athatis and their Visya was for life. Aster would remain part of the pack, but she would never take another bonded.
But that did not mean she was alone.
“I’ve got you,” Aya promised the wolf. “I’ve got you.”
***
Something in Aya had settled after her visit with Aster. It was as if she took a bit of Tova’s spirit with her, a small lick of flame that warmed the center of her chest. She was glad for it, especially as she took in the stately town house in front of her, its paint pristine and flower boxes perfectly kept.
The rich always did seem to escape the worst of war.
Aya pushed open the wrought iron gate, tugging off her hood as she made her way up the stairs and knocked on the door.
