“The Temple of Eternal Narrative?”
Malachi leans over my shoulder. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s either hidden or masked,” Gwyneth says.
I lower the parchment. A summons. An audience. Unarmed. I snort at the ridiculousness. As if we’re just going to serve ourselves up to the Idols in some super-secretive place no one knows about.
“It’s a trap,” Hart says flatly.
“Of course it is,” I reply.
Nash’s arm wraps around my waist again, but this time, it feels less like comfort and more like a brace before impact.
The letters shift once more, reforming in front of my eyes.
For every diurnal you fail to appear, one damsel from the village in So Far Away will lose her head.
Starting with The Stirling Sister.
I suck in a breath and meet Hart’s eyes.
Charming sighs. “We don’t go.”
I turn to him. “Oh, we’re going.”
Everyone starts talking at once, arguing over strategy and the likelihood of the threat becoming a reality. I stand in the middle of the chaos and process everything from the threat to the demand. The world is indeed a strange place when I’m the calm one.
Genie declares that he knows where this temple is. That’s something, at least.
I lift my voice over all of them. “They can’t stop us.” That cuts through the noise. I hold the parchment up. “If they could, we’d already be dead.”
Silence rolls through the room.
I catch everyone’s eyes, including Charming’s. “They’re frightened,” I murmur. “Not the other way around.” The words shimmer as if they don’t appreciate my tone. Tough. I crumple the parchment in my fist. “Four nights from now, we’ll arrive and see what the Idols want in their Temple of Eternal Narrative.”
And somewhere beneath the fear and the nightmare is the creeping sense that the world is shifting around us. Because traps work both ways.
Sometimes, the bait bites back.
Chapter Thirty Three
Daphne
Eron frowns as Gwyneth explains why and what we need his blood for. “Won’t that kill me?”
She shakes her head. “No, I don’t believe so. The Idols who have manipulated, killed, and coveted will find themselves in trouble, but those of you already reaching for that freedom, I think it’s going to help you.”
“That’s a lot of think and not enough know,” Hart mutters.
I elbow his ribs, making him grunt. “I don’t see you coming up with anything better.”
He leans back against the sofa and folds his arms while my sister continues to field Eron’s questions. Considering we’reasking him to become part of the solution, which may bring war and destruction to his realm, his unease is understandable. Although, if I’m honest, he seems to be taking it all in stride.
Genie appears in front of me and eyeballs my twin sandwich, which appears to have become the norm. Again, this is why there should be double sausage and one bread. Ratio problems.
“It’s all arranged,” he declares.
I arch a brow. “That was quick.”
