“Be reasonable, Athos. Think of what they will say of you. The most gracious queen who saved these realms from a growing threat.”
Athos’s jaw set. “You see a threat, but Samkiel has never lifted a hand in anger. Even with Oblivion, he has never used it for malicious gain.”
“He will,” Nismera said with such confidence that a few gods even scoffed. “For her, he will. For their children, he will.”
My eyes widened as a few gods loudly exclaimed, all speaking over one another. Athos held up a hand, and the room went silent.
“What are you saying, Nismera?” she asked, and all eyes fell on Nismera. “Do you have proof of these children you speak of?”
“I have no proof of that legacy succeeding yet,” Nismera said. “But are you such a fool to think it will not happen? What then? Offspring with unfathomable power, a mix of god and Ig’Morruthen. Nothing could contend, not even us. They would have power that far outstretches yours and all we know. The power to not only change shape at will but also carry Oblivion. They would be unstoppable. This entire council would be at risk should they not agree with them. The power should be in the hands of the council, and you should all be worried about this reality.” Nismera’s gaze fixed on Athos, and something far too quick to catch passed between them. “You’re a fool, Athos, and you have been since Unir’s reign. I never understood how you and Kryella could look at a boy with that power and the name World Ender and think he would be a paragon of peace.”
Silence fell. Earlier, I wondered how long it would take for Nismera to win if she decided to truly fight them, and I realized now she had already begun to do so. Even in this room full of gods and goddesses, experienced and tried, she was drawing battle lines with her words, and I wasn’t sure if they even knew she was doing it. Fear gripped my chest, squeezing. I had never been this close to her and never felt the raw, harrowing power that she carried within her very cells. I wanted to claw my own skin off to escape it.
Athos stood, and every god and goddess on the council stood with her, Kryella at her left and Othello on her right. They were her two most trusted, fierce, and loyal supporters. Nismera rose, her legion shifting at her back.
“We will consider your offer,” Athos said, folding her hands in front of her.
The air grew tighter, and I saw Koa clench his hands so tightly that sparks of power bristled around them.
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Nismera placed a hand below her stomach and one to her back as she bowed slightly before righting herself. Jaycee tossed a look at me, apprehension apparent.
“I deny it,” Koa said, unable to hold his tongue any longer. He slammed his fist down on the table, the stone splitting. His irises burned bright silver, matching the godly marks pulsating beneath his eyes. “I lost friends and family under your siege. I will not work with a spiteful—”
Athos lifted her hand, and Koa, gods above, obliged, his chest heaving. He may hate Nismera, but he’d sworn his allegiance to Athos by word and blood.
The council disbanded as the meeting concluded. Nismera and her legion were escorted to her warships, and they left. It wasn’t until the clouds reformed, night fell, and all returned to their chambers that it hit me. While a few may have disagreed, the vast majority of the gods did not speak up. Instead, they had just watched and listened, their expressions flat but their eyes filled with horror. I knew that look. I had seen it in the eyes of beasts when they realized they were facing a much bigger threat than they were prepared to handle. The sick part was that it wasn’t Nismera.
I stared at the starry night sky, fear gripping my gut. Nismera may be a goddess of war, but she was also a master of words and manipulation. She had done what she intended to do here. She had sown doubt within the council of gods, and if Samkiel wielded Oblivion even in defense, it would seal his fate. They would no longer see Nismera as a threat, but an ally who had warned them of what was coming. And then they would hunt him.
74
DIANNA
Samkiel pressed a kiss to my head, his hand running over my hair before he left our bedroom to find Cameron. Uneasiness curling in the pit of my gut as I finished getting ready. This all seemed too easy, but I was glad the assassins clearly wished to work with us. Or I guess more so me. I didn’t save Faye’s brother with any expectation of repayment, and a part of me thought she knew that, too. So, I didn’t understand the sudden loyalty.
We hadn’t seen them since Kaden’s return, but we continued to reach out to them. Nismera’s palace was off the table. Apparently, they had been searching for it for hundreds of years, to no avail, so our next option was creepy bone cavern and that damn chalice. According to lore, the preferred way to contact an assassin of Sumaril was to place your request or dead list in the darkest part of the room. Supposedly, they would answer, but we’d been waiting for days for an answer. The wait was torturous, and to occupy itself, my mind kept pondering the location of the chalice. I spent much of the time staring out the window at our beautiful city, afraid I would have to watch it burn. I kept a vigilant eye on the skies and clouds, waiting for the moment her remaining warships found us. They didn’t.
It wasn’t until last night that we woke to the feel of power creeping through our home. We found the map in Samkiel’s study. A blade pinned it to the wall in the darkest corner, the shadows so thick I could feel them against my skin. I ignored the slithering sensation, excited and anxious that I finally have a hope of finding that fucking chalice.
I sighed and headed out of our room and down the hall. It was only going to be Samkiel, Reggie, and me going. Enough of Reggie’s fate powers remained that he could monitor both the city and us, just in case we needed to rush back.
A few steps and turns later, I arrived at the main floor. I followed the sound of whispered voices to the large dining area, but they stopped talking as soon as I stepped into the doorway. Isaiah held a spoon above his bowl and looked behind me, probably checking for Samkiel. Not seeing him, Isaiah glanced at Kaden, relaxing on the thick wooden chair beside him.
“I need to talk to him,” I said, nodding toward Kaden. “Alone.”
Isaiah’s brows rose, but he just shrugged and stood up. He picked up his food and stepped out, closing the door behind him. I waited until his footsteps receded down the stairs, heading toward the dungeon and Imogen again. It didn’t matter what we did or how many lectures Samkiel subjected him to, Isaiah wouldn’t stay away from her. Isaiah shifted into a large furry beast every night and would sleep outside Imogen’s cell. He hadn’t slept in his room once since he’d brought her back.
Last night, when I’d gone downstairs to check on them, Isaiah had cracked open his red eyes and peered at me before huffing and curling into himself once more. It could have been exhaustion or the stress of the last few weeks wearing on me, but as I turned to head back upstairs, I could have sworn that I saw Imogen blink.
I didn’t have to ask Isaiah about his near-desperate obsession with Imogen because I had seen that look before. But that would be a conversation for another time, and I wasn’t going to get into it with Samkiel. It would just give him a migraine.
Kaden waited with his arms folded as he regarded me. “Let me guess. You’ve come to scold me for what I said, considering you haven’t spoken to me since.”
Gods, was he keeping track? I shook my head. “No, I—”
“Listen, yourhusband,” he said the word like a curse, “already did. Might I add how inconvenient it is to regrow a tongue?”
“Can you let me get a word out before you assume? Gods, you always—” I stopped, curling my lips around my teeth. I stared at him, and it took a second for me to realize he was talking about the fight we’d had before we left to rescue Samkiel. He hadn’t told me he had confronted Kaden about what he had said, but a part of me was completely unsurprised. I shook my head and stepped forward, stopping two chairs away from him.
