And the six soldiers rumored to accompany him everywhere, all of them together referred to by the absurd moniker the Bazrian Seven?They’d have no reason to anticipate me either.
I was a viper about to slither into their sandbox.
“Want to say a prayer to the demigods?”Marina asked.“You never know, they might help.”
Surprise had me whipping my head in her direction.“I thought they were gone.”
She snorted.“Gone where, exactly?”
“I don’t know.Alonso said no one prays to them anymore.That they don’t answer.”
“Maybe the demigods are punishing them for lack of faith.”
“Even my books say they’re gone.”
BothThe History and Conquest of the Domdurron EmpireandThe Opalese World in the Modern Erawere explicit about the “banishment of the bloodthirsty demigods” in the former, and the “expulsion of antiquated, perilous superstitions” in the latter.
“I haven’t seen a single shrine since I’ve been back,” I said.
“That’s because they’re forbidden, by order of the emperor.”
She rolled blandly over the word.Meanwhile, I had yet to be able to sayemperorwithout fury pinching my face and body.
“So?Want to?”she said.“As you know, they don’t often do what we ask.But it only takes the once.”
After we were reunited, Marina had updated me on what transpired for her in the three-plus centuries we were apart.Though my story was a great deal shorter, so had I.However, I did leave out how I had sensed what felt like several of the demigods—especially callous Heartbreak—since my return.
“Sure, let’s try,” I finally said, a bit warily.At least Marina would be doing the incantation instead of me.
For as long as I’d known her, Marina had worn frocks with a single apron-style pocket in the front.When she stuffed her hands into both sides of it, her fingers touched in the middle, yet in feats of goblin magic, she was able to pull all manner of tools from that pocket.
Today—after linking our arms so her ability to cloak herself in her surroundings would encompass me to a mild but still helpful degree—she emerged with a shrine, exactly like the shrines that used to dot practically every corner of Zaraga’s streets—only many times smaller.It was a box with an arch for an opening, this one constructed of light wompa wood.Within the box were six votive candles—one for each cardinal direction, plus up for the Etherlands and down for the Igneuslands—a small bowl of ocean water, two additional bowls of unsalted water, within which floated a glittering black lotus—a rare flower—and within the second, the pale-violet flower of the olandry plant, from which olvidian was extracted.Both were highly sought-after for their consciousness-altering effects.Lastly, tucked within a slot along the shrine’s roofline, was a clear vial.From behind the thin glass shone a light so bright and pure it reminded me of the Fuerin Star.
“What is that?”I said, hearing the awe in my voice.
“That is a secret.”
“Understood.It’s … beautiful.”
“It is.”
“You didn’t have that B.A.”
“A lot changed while you were gone.Little of it good.”
“Cricket is good.”
A dreamy smile blossomed across her face, exposing her crooked front teeth.
I laughed.“I guess Cricket is very,verygood.”
Her cheeks flushed a bright green, and I laughed more, waggling my brows.
“I want to hear all about Cricket,” I said.
“No.”But Marina still smiled.
“He’s not a secret.So I can ask you about him all I want.”
