Dav cut a nervous glance to the king and his guards, but Gregor merely shook his head.
For a moment, Aya thought the king might rebuke them.But then Gregor was taking a step forward, his knee bending as he bowed his head and said, “It is an honor to meet you, Your Holiness.”
If his soldiers were surprised to see their king show deference to another, they did not show it. Instead they stood unmoving, their focus sharp while they tracked the king’s movements as he rose and walked down the dais.
“I was a born a Saj,” he explained over the click of his boots on the stone floor. “And while I find the label rather…confining…it does come with the ability to sense one’s power, if honed properly.”
He stopped in front of Evie, a curious smile on his face. “And I have never sensed the likes of you, Your Holiness.”
He took one of Evie’s hands in both of his. “I hear you have quite the tale to tell. Killed not by your efforts, but by the gods themselves?” Aya watched as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing her. “And yet here you are. Alive. And ready to pledge yourself to our crusade. A rather drastic change in allegiance, if you do pardon my saying so.”
Gregor’s tone was deceptively light, but Aya could sense the edge to his words—a subtle prodding masked in polite curiosity. She expected Evie to bristle at it. How many had the saint killed because General Dav dared to question her? Perhaps she would make an example of Gregor’s guards.
Yet Evie merely smiled, closed-lipped and passive, and said, “Being trapped in the veil for over five hundred years gave me plenty of time to rethink my allegiances.”
Gregor’s brows rose. “The veil?”
“Some of the gods thought it more merciful than the hells.” Evie’s smile turned sharp; tight. “They will be the first of the Nine I kill.”
Aya had once considered herself an expert at sorting truth from lie. She didn’t know what to think of her abilities now; not after learning her place by Gianna’s side had not been due to her talents, but instead because of Evie’s manipulation.
But in this moment, there was no doubt in Aya regarding the veracity of Evie’s words. It was written in the lift of her chin, in the set of her shoulders, in the steadiness of her gaze as it stayed fixed on the king of Kakos.
“And how is it that you are here?” Gregor asked slowly.
“You are the Saj, Your Majesty,” Evie replied, “Perhaps you will be able to solve some of the mysteries that have plagued me for five centuries. What I know is that when the gods trapped me in that infernal place, I was preserved as I was. And I lived that way, trapped between life and death, unable to reach either…” Evie paused, and Aya marked the way her mouth pulled tight in a grimace as she added, “Despite how I tried.”
She rolled her neck, as if shaking off a memory, before she continued. “But I tore their beloved veil. And in an effort to destroy the barrier from within, a piece of my power escaped and was imparted to a young Visya.”
Evie met Aya’s gaze, a slow smile creeping across the saint’s face. Aya hated the way it had fear snaking down her spine.
Nothing good ever came from Evie’s joy.
“The realm’sSecond Saint,” Evie crooned. Aya had always hated the title, but it sounded even worse on Evie’s tongue—foolish and mocking and alie.
“I do owe her a debt of gratitude. She pulled me from the veil during the Battle of Dunmeaden.” Evie turned her attention back to the king, who was watching Aya curiously. She met his gaze unflinchingly, willing her weakened limbs to stand strong beneath his scrutiny. “I think you will find her useful to our cause, Your Majesty.”
“Ourcause,” Gregor repeated, a small smile on his lips.
“Do not tell me you have revived the movement only to settle for control of this mortal realm. The objective of the Decachiré was always to garner enough power to kill the gods who demand Visya remain their servants. They are,after all, the ones who are intent on keepingtruepower all to themselves, are they not?” Evie replied evenly.
“One would argue you cannot defeat one without defeating the other,” Gregor mused. “This realm will not allow us to challenge the gods without their interference.”
“I do not disagree. As long as your end objective is abolishing the gods, then I shall help in your crusade against the mortals and the Divine. Hence my offering,” Evie finished with a wave of her hand to Aya.
“Yes,” the king hummed as he strolled toward Aya. “I had heard you were bringing me a gift.” He stepped into Aya’s space, his nose wrinkling at her stench. Yet the green of his irises still shimmered with that gleam that felt familiar and strange all at once as he raked his gaze down her body.
“Gianna’s spymaster,” he observed. There was a hint of humor in the quirk of his brow as he met her gaze once more, a thinly veiled derision at her current state that added to the indescribable weight already pressing down on Aya’s shoulders.
“I believe we have a friend in common,” the king mused. “I was so disappointed to hear of Dominic’s passing. He had been such a loyal friend to Kakos all these years.”
Another betrayal Aya hadn’t seen, another failure added to a list that only grew longer each day she remained alive. Another example of just how foolish she was to believe the gods had chosen her for any real purpose, prophetic or otherwise.
You are nothing.
She could taste the bitter tang of anger on her tongue. But it was softer now, locked beneath days of chains and a hood and her own agonizing grief.
“I remain indebted to him, however,” the king continued. Aya’s body tensed instinctively as he stepped around her, close enough that his torso brushed against her side. He paused behind her, a finger trailing down her arm to theshackles around her wrist. “His healers developed the very tonic with which we imbue our iron to keep control of our prisoners. Especially our humans. Their new power is so…unpredictable.”
