“Step up.”
“What—” But then, she saw a weapons harness in his hands and shut her mouth.
He slid the leather belt up her body, then tugged the clasps tight. His mouth was set in a thin line as he stood then placed three small daggers in various pockets around her waist. He hardly looked at her as he stepped back and picked up a heavy sword leaning by the doorway.
“Are you ready?”
“Let’s go,” she said, her voice tight.
She followed him into the hallway, finding Carus bouncing on his heels. As soon as he saw her, he glanced sharply at Morgen. “She’s coming with?”
“Sheis even more wrapped up in this mess than she was before because of you two, so yes,” Nya snapped. “Where are our parents?”
Carus’ nostrils flared. “You don’t understand what we’re walking into here, sweetheart.”
“I asked you a question.”
He narrowed his eyes. “They’re meeting us in the mess hall.”
She didn’t bother to speak after that, and neither did he or Morgen. There wasn’t time to argue about whether she followed them or not, and she knew it as well as they did.
When they arrived in the mess hall, it was eerily silent, despite being filled to the brink with armed soldiers, obviously on standby. Her parents lingered near the front of the crowd, her mother standing with her arms crossed against the cavern wall and her father mirroring her. She could tell they were speaking; the odd, silent twitches of their faces and the prolonged eye contact were easy tells, though she couldn’t hear down their pathway at the moment.
“What are they doing?” Carus asked just before they reached them.
Her lips twitched, despite the situation. “Talking. They do this a lot, sometimes without realizing it. You’ll get used to it eventually.”
“Strange,” Carus muttered.
She glanced sidelong at him. “Did you tell them what happened yesterday?”
He shook his head. “I figured I’d let you have that honor. Later, when we’re not about to have this fun little confrontation.”
“Right,” she said, but her voice was barely more than a rasp.
Morgen approached her parents and asked curtly, “The dragons—are they ready?”
Her father nodded. “They’re waiting with Varax.”
“I don’t know if it was worth them hiding,” her mother said, brow raised. “Bella and Janis will likely sense them no matter what, and even if they didn’t, Sol surely will.”
“We don’t know for certain he’s nearby,” Morgen replied, though he didn’t sound so sure.
Her mother’s expression darkened, and Nya’s stomach dipped when she said, “He is. So is Nyx. I imagine she and Thanatos figured out what was happening rather quickly.”
“Can we trust them?” Carus asked, gaze flicking between her parents. “Nyx and Thanatos, I mean?”
The ether in her mother’s eyes was brightening. Seeing her like this, with a short sword at her hip and the ominous cloud of her magic pressing against Nya’s senses, she remembered what her mother really was.
Not a prisoner nor a captive. Not even a woman. Agoddess, and an heir at that. She usually hid her true nature well, letting the influence of the mortal body she had been reborn into trick the eyes of others, but she had never been mortal, just as Nya herself had never been.
“To back us against Sol, yes,” her mother said. “As for the rest of it…” She glanced at Morgen. “I don’t know where they stand, not yet. They withheld information. We’ll have to see if theirreasoning was made in an attempt to protect us, or if it was a betrayal.”
“That will be a problem for later,” Morgen said, voice low. “We need to go before they grow impatient and come knocking in a less pleasant way.”
He strode ahead without a moment’s more hesitation. Nya glanced at her parents. “Are you alright? Wasn’t the last time you saw Sol…?”
Her mother’s blue eyes were still silver-bright, but she did not look afraid. “The last time I saw Sol, he treated me like a disobedient child up until the moment I destroyed the throne room, blasted him on his ass, and killed his king. I imagine he is more nervous than I am right now.”
