Perhaps that was the reason Diana had felt called to this place. Perhaps it was her destiny to retrieve the grail. With every moment that passed, as the moon climbed in the inky blue sky and the stars appeared in full force, it was more and more difficult for Cyara to suppress her excitement. Her stomach bubbled, her wings twitched. A lifetime of elemental training was quickly melting away.
She was trembling as she laid a hand on Diana’s forearm. “You are strong.”
It was the truth. But it also felt like a manipulation. Cyara needed to keep Diana from faltering in this moment more than any that had come before.
Diana licked her lips. “Before I was stolen from Avalon, I was apprentice to the Lady of the Lake.”
Cyara’s mouth popped open.
Thatwas a truth. And one she did not plan on telling Veyka about.
Percival harrumphed, his disapproval clear. But Diana continued.
“I am banned from returning. But I still wish to be a priestess.”
Once, Cyara’s heart would have broken. But now the painful admission only kindled hope for her own friend in her heart.
Diana laid a hand on the flat sandstone top of the altar.
“I still have nightmares of the months I spent in,” she paused, her throat bobbing. “In captivity.”
Cyara’s breath caught in her throat. She waited, expecting… something. Anything. For the stone to start to glow, for the altar and the temple to transform into the glowing, magical edifice that Diana had described.
But nothing happened. The surface of the altar remained unbroken. No grail appeared.
Cyara looked up at Diana, then Percival, hoping that perhaps they saw something she did not. But the latter jerked his head to the side.
Cyara braced herself for Diana’s reaction, curling her fingers into her fists and tightening her wings. But the woman simply stepped back and turned her face to her brother. “You must try, Percival.”
Percival stared at her as if she had suggested he sacrifice himself on the altar, lifeblood and all.
Cyara lifted a brow in challenge. There were two ways to get Percival to do anything—for Diana, or for his own pride. “Afraid, Percival?”
The stare he’d given his sister turned to a glare just for Cyara. She took it easily, without even a flicker of her wings.
“I abhor chocolate.”
Diana made a little squawk of disapproval.
Cyara carried a small knife attached to her belt. It was her only weapon, other than the talons of her harpy. Her fingersitchedto stab it into Percival’s smug face.
She waited for the reaction, for the softer part of herself to respond to that urge for violence. But her anger only sharpened.
“Take this seriously, or all of your sister’s suffering has been fornothing.”
His upper lip curled, but Cyara did not miss the color draining from his cheeks, leaving his skin ashen in the cool-toned moonlight.
But he did not flinch from meeting her eyes as he gave his second truth. “I dream of what it would feel like to kill every person who has dared to hold my sister captive.”
The harpy inside of her screeched, tearing at the surface. How dare he threaten Veyka, Osheen, Arran, Lyrena, even her? There would be no stopping the monster this time. Cyara felt her wings flare wide, her fingertips curling at the push of the talons—
“These truths are meant to be painful,” Diana said softly. Her hand landed on Cyara’s arm, soft and light as a feather, but stillthere.
The harpy receded instantly, leaving a hollowness in her place.Shewas the one who’d fallen apart—and Diana had provided comfort. Her reality had been shifting for months now. But as Diana’s hand fell away, Cyara felt the final pieces begin to slide into place. She listened through a veil as Percival offered his last truth.
“The fate of this realm does not concern me. Only that of my sister,” he sucked in a breath, “And myself.”
No one moved.
