“Lyra.” I turn to my sister, grabbing her arm as she moves to enter the queue of deities that line up to grant seeds of their magic to the child. “He’s going to absorb?—”
“Shhh!” My sister places her palm over my mouth and pulls me towards her. “Don’t you think we know that?” she hisses in my ear. “Why do you think I finally gave into Nina’s pleas and joined her?”
Lyra swipes my pink lipstick off her hand as she joins the other gods. The few I know to be rebellion members are spaced purposefully throughout the line, no two back-to-back to ensure Nobus doesn’t recognize the pattern hidden in the blessings.
The Wolf God approaches the dais first. “To my nephew, I gift the mouth of the wolf. May your words always be commands, may your teeth always be sharp, and may your bite always crush your foes.”
Nobus beams with pride, nodding in appreciation at the blessing he thinks is complete.
“And I also gift the eyes of the lamb. May your eyes always reflect the content of your heart and may they always see the true intentions of those you look upon.”
The God King tenses as Mikais finishes. The young prince absorbs the golden embers of power given freely to him, the cradle he rests in glowing momentarily as the magic settles.
The duality of the offering—all at once something Nobus both wants and rejects—sets the tone for what’s expected of the rest of the rebels.
One by one, the powerful kneel in front of the royal family. From bended knee, they each bestow a single present meant to aid the prince in his life and hinder the king if he takes it by force.
Nobus’ golden eyes shine with envy at the offerings, already counting the ways his power will increase once he slaughters his own son.
Lyra steps to the dais next, the sapphire taffeta of her gown rippling like waves down the steps as she kneels. “To the prince, I gift the song of destiny. May fate know him by the sound of his name.”
Nobus doesn’t hide his scoff. On the surface, it’s a sweet gift—one that a child soon to die has no need of. But my sister is smarter than that. Her blessing ensures that fate, and whatever it might have in store for him, can find the prince no matter which realm he’s in.
With each gift, the child glows more intensely until he outshines the suns themselves. The perfect timing for my own gift.
Like my sister, I do not prepare him to die, but instead amplify her blessing even more. No matter what happens, the gods will always be able to find him.
“To the prince,” I start, my heart hammering in my chest as I tryto steady my breathing. “May the light surround you so that you will always be recognized by your kind.”
Like a beacon in the night, a lighthouse on the coast, or an angel in the darkness, no matter where this war leads, no matter where this child ends up, those with magic in their blood will always know him by his halo of light.
My hands tremble as I descend and meld into the crowd again.
Drayca ascends next, bestowing a gift that causes Nobus to swell with pride at the most envious blessing yet—the gift of strategy. “May he always know the path to victory.”
Nina bestows the gift of the flame, placing the fire of passion in his blood.
Bastin grants the ability to satisfy every lover, a gift that earns him a glare from both monarchs. The God of Revelry, who has chosen to side with Nobus, is either oblivious to the God King’s plan or is publicly insulting his abilities in the bedroom. Either way, it makes for great entertainment—which is one of his specialties.
The Goddess of the Harvest grants the gift of a bountiful table, a gift the king cannot fathom the necessity of. But Seblee isn’t a fool. Abundance reigns in this realm, but many of the others are deficient. The ability to never be without is a true gift.
When the last divine blessing has been bestowed upon the child, Nobus signals for Taura to approach. She kneels at the feet of the God King, her violet eyes shifting hues as she takes the prince’s tiny, glowing hand into hers.
The Goddess of Truth is an expert liar. She is skilled at keeping her face neutral, but I know her tells. The way one muscle in her jaw tightens slightly, the way her lashes flutter four times—all signs that the truth she sees isn’t palatable.
“His future is blurry, my King. So much is yet to be determined.”
“Unacceptable,” Nobus roars. “Tell me what you see or you willnever see again.” Lightning ripples across his skin as his power rumbles through the palace.
Taura cuts her eyes to me quickly and my heart drops into my stomach. Whatever she truly sees involves me, and I have no doubt revealing this vision would end us both. The goddess takes a steadying breath, preparing to only give away the most crucial pieces of information while tucking the details safely away.
“The very sight of him will cause men to cower, Your Majesty. He will be….he will be…”
The lights in the throne room flicker as Taura searches for words that won’t find her exiled. Black smoke fills the space and all attention shifts to the spinning, tornadic shadows that concentrate at the foot of the dais.
His voice booms through the dark before his corporeal form appears. “Quite the gathering you’re hosting, Nobus. I do hope I haven’t missed all the fun.”
The Dark God of Death melds into view, moving towards the baby that glows in the golden cradle.
