Erista nodded, relief sharpening her attention. “It’s believed some today even share it.”
“But Godsblood is the rarest substance on Gallantia,” Esmond said.
Even more rare than the Angelblood twisting through my veins.
“Does your family share it?” Jezebel asked Erista, pointedly avoiding my gaze.
“No.” She shook her head, curls bouncing. “My family doesn’t lead back to the Angels. But if my father is to be believed—which Iadvise you take every claim he makes lightly—we have a number of Xenique’s artifacts in our trove.”
“You don’t agree?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Every Soulguider claims their family’s heirlooms belonged to the Angel. It’s a point of pride.”
“That must be a warrior trait.” Jezebel laughed, and it warmed my spirit. “I can think of a number of Mystiques who care a bit too much about those things. Or they had before the war.”
“Yes, well, the war changed many things, didn’t it?” I only muttered it, but just to be safe, I glanced up to ensure Malakai hadn’t heard. He was polishing a borrowed sword behind us. Brows drawn low, eyes quiet but thoughts loud.
I tried to tug the Bind, to brush some reassurance against that thread, but it strained. He didn’t react.
Sighing, leaving him to his thoughts, I turned back to the circle, heart a bit heavier.
“I don’t know why legends differ between the moon and stars,” Vale was saying. “It’s as if the fates couldn’t agree on the two.”
“Regardless, Ophelia,” Erista said, “you shouldn’t expect to hear from Meridat regarding that letter you sent until after the Apex Moon passes.”
I’d told them all of the letters I sent to their chancellors last night, begging for alliance in light of the raid. The Engrossians were moving. We were responding. War was looming.
But I hadn’t told them what Barrett said about his mother’s interest in me. With Damien’s ominous warning, I hadn’t figured out how to explain that I thought it all wove together.
“Alvaron will love that you went ahead without his counsel,” Danya had joked, but she’d given her approval.
The others had all agreed that it had to be done. Now we waited for answers, and I pretended not to worry over them.
As the night wore on, the conversation dissolved into a mess of legends between all clans present. Even a few Engrossian tales from Barrett and Dax, though some were reluctant to listen to those.
When the hour turned late, Erista stood to move to her sleeping mat. “May the Angels and Goddess guard your dreams,” she wished us.
“I’m not sure how I feel about the Goddess of Death watching me sleep,” Tolek mumbled to me.
“Neither am I.” But I couldn’t help but laugh at the lighthearted spirit of the evening, despite the gravity of what came next.
Chapter Seventeen
Ophelia
We leftour horses a mile out from the Engrossian camp at dusk. Barrett and Dax had given us every detail they knew about the warriors there—how many, the weapons we should expect, the tactics—and we’d scouted them earlier. The prince and his consort would be staying behind, though, guarded by two of Danya’s warriors and Vale, who said she’d watch the stars.
Before I turned away from Sapphire, Cyph placed a hand on my horse. Reluctance tightened his jaw as he chewed over his words. “I think I trust them,” he finally whispered.
Looking over my shoulder, I found Malakai. Alone, buckling on his metal vambraces.
“I’m starting to,” I muttered, unsaid fears scraping against my throat. Guilt sliced me as sharply as the sword hanging at my hip, but it was the truth. Silent agreement passed between Cyph and I as we led our small troop into the pass, but that burgeoning trust was the only reason we were able to.
I moved quietly despite the armor I wore. Truthfully, I found it stifling compared to the freedom of my leathers, but when I remembered the deadly slice of the Engrossian axes, the armor welded within Damenal seemed a wise precaution. The blacksmiths and leatherworkers were creating more every day, readying for whatever war awaited us.
The air in the mountains was cool. Crickets chirped and wolves howled and, faintly, I wondered if thelupine daimonswere awaketonight, but tried not to consider the other beasts roaming the mountain range.
A breeze trickled down from the peaks that should have been calming, with the moon shining its luck down on us, but each step forward was like wading into muddied waters, unsure of what lay in the depths ahead.
