I ignored her. “Rest forgotten,” I said and placed the feather on the lid. Silence reigned in as my binding spell settled deep into the stone. We all turned to Daphne. She stepped closer, gliding like a shadow. Silver sparks danced around her wrists. She looked at us, seeking something. And she seemed to have found it in Camille’s soft smile, in Orren’s silent nod, in the way I looked at her—as if she were the brightest thing not only in this dark room full of death and regret, but in the whole world. Her black kaftan pooled like a lake of shadows when she kneeled. She put her hand on the floor and my eyes widened as I saw the faint glow of the ley lines deep below our feet, like a spider web of raw power.
“Magic binds,” she said.
Silver tentacles of magic rose from the floor and slung around the sarcophagus, their cool glow chasing the gloom from the chamber.
We all watched her rise.
We all knew that from this moment on, she was one of us.
Powerful. Immortal.
“Okay, Maerya, can you show us the way out of here now? I’m starving,” Orren said.
I walked to Daphne and took her hand, my skin prickling with residual magic.
“Follow me,” Maerya ordered.
“Why do we call ourselves the Five?” Camille mused as we climbed back to the sand and the moonlight above. “The Renegade is clearly not one of us. Not anymore. Viktor surrendered to the void centuries ago. And now, with Daphne joining our ranks, it’s still four of us.”
“Maybe Maerya wants to join us. Then we’d be Five. You want to join our ranks, Maerya? Become one of the unhinged immortals who watch over the magic balance of this world?” He slung a massive arm around the shoulder of the old priestess and I wondered if that would be the last thing he did in this world. To my surprise, he survived. “Flattered, but no,” she said, with that smile that made you wonder if she was joking—or about to curse you. “The companions I need in my line of work are less... vital. But feel free to drop by for some kofta whenever you feel like it.”
“All righty, then.” Orren threw his arms in the air. “From now on, we’re the Four. The Tetrarchy.”
Daphne shook her head. “The Tetrarchy? No. Sounds like a villain’s council. And we have Nibble. So technically, we’re still five.”
“What would you suggest?” Camille asked.
“Maybe we don’t need a name yet,” Daphne said, glancing at each one of us. “Maybe just being free is enough.”
“The girl speaks wisely. Let’s talk names after we eat,” Orren grinned. “Preferably while my mouth is full of garlic and onions. Call us whatever you like, Daphne. Just please let us get to that kofta and koshary I’m craving since we arrived.”
Daphne raised a brow. “Koshary?”
“A chaotic mix of rice, pasta, lentils, chickpeas, tomato sauce, fried onion, and whatever the cook puts in. A dish with no rules. Like my magic.” Orren said, and his stomach rumbled loudly.
Our laughter followed us outside, where the stars were fading over the pyramids and dawn painted the sand in gold.
Epilogue
La Scala – Milan
The chandeliers of La Scala glittered like stars. I leaned back in my velvet seat, legs crossed, gown draped like smoke over my skin—midnight silk stitched with silver beadwork that shimmered with every breath. My gloves reached my elbows. My lips were the color of old wine.
Emrys looked like sin in a tuxedo, his silver cufflinks gleaming like the moons of some long-lost world. All around us, heads turned.
I sipped on my champagne. “They’re staring. It’s rude.”
“They’ve never seen a goddess before,” he said, eyes fixed on me. “Let them stare. Did I tell you I love the sparkle of stolen diamonds on you?”
“The Duskmere Manor gifted them to me,” I said. “Did I tell you I love the dress you ordered for me?”
His lip curled. “With age, you develop a taste for... timeless pieces.” He kissed my knuckles.
I hid my smile behind the fan.
The music swelled. The curtain rose.
And there she was.
