“We need to go to The Underbelly,” Elyssara breathes. “We need to go home.”
The room sucks in a breath. Even the sway of branches halts.
“To Virellin, love? Straight into the heart of enemy territory?” Merrik asks, apprehensive.
But my chest fills with pride at her brilliance.
“What’s the book, Duskae?” I ask.
“It’s the Lunar Codex. Outlawed and forbidden, but there are people in Virellin who knew it was important and kept it. It’s in The Underbelly,” she says, this time, with more conviction. “And I know how to go unnoticed.” Something comes alive in her eyes—a part of her she forgot existed, but still pulses through her veins.
I purr my pride down the tether, and I notice the ghost of a smile on her lips in response.
“Makes meeting with the rebellion easy, then,” Correk finally speaks up from the back wall, and the war council still eye him warily, despite saving our asses in Kryntar. They don’t trust outsiders easily, and I can’t blame them.
“The rebellion operates out of Virellin?” Elyssara asks, her surprise palpable.
“Headquarters, yes,” Correk says simply. “In The Underbelly. That’s where we meet with The Shield.”
“And you know this ‘Shield’?” Seren interrogates. “How do we know we can trust them? That this isn’t a set up?”
Correk huffs an aggrieved breath out his nose, and he grits out, “The Shield is trustworthy.”
I make sure my tone is measured and calm, hoping to distill the tension. “I’ve been working with The Shield for a decade. He’s built our ranks, expanded our mission, managed to find alternate sources to the water supply to help Dravara remember. He’s as trustworthy as we can guarantee.”
The tension in Seren’s jaw dissipates just slightly, tempered by my explanation.
“And I’m The Shield’s Apprentice. I’ve given up a decade of my life to that fucking shithole in Kryntar to help the rebellion,” Correk’s chest rises and falls too fast, his temper rising at the insinuation that he’s not trustworthy.
And he’s right. He’s played a dangerous fucking game for ten years. We need to assume he’s an ally.
Elyssara’s voice cuts through the room—her words holding an unnatural weight. Like every time she speaks, her words ripple across the air like a spell. “Correk knows Revryn. He helped me awaken my magic from the gods. He has my trust.”
She awakened her divine magic?
I try not to show my surprise, but I can feel it travel down the tether anyway. All questions of Correk’s loyalty erased in an instant.
Ronyn leans across the table eagerly. “Can you travel through time? Do you have the power of invisibility? Can you fly? This whole thing would be a lot easier if you could,” he says, eyes wide with excitement.
Jax snorts a laugh, and the tension in the room dissolves instantly.
Whose magic do you have, El?I ask the question down the tether.
She smiles, then. A beautiful smile of pride.
“I am a daughter of Duskae,” she announces. “Daughter of the Unknown.”
Shocked, disbelieving gasps fill the hollow.
“How?” Seren breathes, awed.
“I— I don’t know. But I think…,” she looks at me tenderly, “I am the spark Duskae left in the world, and the gods used their magic to awaken it.”
The spark.
She recites the words I spoke to her in the caves of Cindralis. The old Zerynthian stories of The Goddess of the Unfated.
“What magic do you have, then?” Jax asks, and this time, she’s curious. As a Luminaar, magic is what Jax knows better than anyone.
