"Sometimes when you break something that innocent and pure, the gods themselves take notice," Blaire says softly. "They intervene."
More and more people add their strength to free Rhianelle.
"You call her an elfling?" Blaire's voice cuts through the rising surge. "The Un themselves tested her."
Spiderwebs of light spread across the crimson surface. The barrier beneath my hands suddenly begins to crack.
I pull back. This isn't us. The power is coming from within.
"I didn't tell you this story so you would pity her," Blaire's voice cuts clean through the noise. "She endured centuries of isolation, hardship, and divine trial. Rhianelle Wiolant is more than fit to be your queen."
The words are barely out of Blaire's mouth when the barrier shatters. Shards of crimson energy explode outward in a blinding cascade.
Rhianelle emerges from the dissipating energy, hovering above the arena floor. She is wreathed in flames that burn silver and gold. Her eyes burn like twin suns caught in mortal flesh.
At her feet lie two of the most powerful elders. Their bodies twisted and broken.
But this isn't my wife.
It's one of the Un.
The goddess's presence fills the arena, wearing Rhianelle's form like a divine mask. When she looks across the kneeling crowd, there's no recognition in those burning eyes. No mercy.
Blaire drops to her knees.
The rest follow. One by one, knees hit stone. The colosseum falls into reverent silence.
I sense fear, but not in the crowd.
It's Blaire. She trembles, head lowered. I hear her whisper, "Deanna the Huntress… please. Give her back to us."
Even she is uncertain whether the Un will release what they have claimed.
The goddess smiles.
It's arrogant and terrible, amused by the thousands of mortals prostrating themselves before her. I can feel her intent immediately.
She wants to kill.
This goddess wants to wipe away these insignificant creatures who dared summon her power. The Un are not known for their mercy or restraint.
I should kneel and show deference to this being that could unmake me with a thought.
But I won't. She has my wife, and I want her back. I step forward instead.
"Give her back," I say quietly.
The goddess's smile widens. Her burning eyes find me. I feel the shift in the air, the tightening of invisible threads. She is about to strike.
Movement catches my eye. Coral appears at the edge of the arena. The little flightless wyvern shows no fear of the divine presence. She approaches the floating figure with the simple trust of an animal who knows only love.
The goddess looks down. For a heartbeat, nothing changes. Then something falters. The blaze in Rhianelle's eyes dims, just slightly.
Coral chirps. That soft sound she makes when she wants affection.
The goddess flinches. Confusion fractures the divine mask, and concern follows. "Coral?"
The voice is no longer thunder wrapped in silk. It is Rhianelle's.
