“I heard her, but neither Varax nor I could track where she was. Sol must have put up wards, strong ones at that.”
Sora’s hands curled into fists at her sides, but she did not cry or delve into hysterics at the bad news. Instead, she squared her jaw and took a slow breath before she asked, “What did she say?”
He hesitated and found his gaze drifting behind her, landing on Vane. Morgen still remembered Imeria’s frenzied words from decades ago now, when she had told him there was a warrior cutting down Kronos’ guards like they were nothing but nuisances. As a child, he almost hadn’t believed her. Such a thing wasn’t possible; his father’s guards had been trained practically since birth. But when he had raced to the throne room, determined to see Kronos’ demise himself, he’d realized how the warrior had done it.
It wasn’t merely skill that had secured the impossible victory of reaching the throne room. Incomprehensible love and reckless devotion were what had felled his father’s guards in the end. They were also what had led to Sora and Vane’s deaths and reincarnations.
Morgen wondered if those same things would save any of them now.
“It has her, doesn’t it?” Vane asked, his expression hard and determined.
Morgen swallowed hard, nausea rising at the metallic taste still coating his mouth. “Yes,” he replied with a short nod. “It does.”
“Morgen!”
The familiar voice had him whirling, but he stiffened when he found Imeria standing a few feet away, covered in blood. Varax growled, the sound low and rumbling across the rocks. Heles and Thessilnn mirrored the sound, all three dragons crawling closer.
Something was wrong.
“Imeria.” From behind him, Carus said her name slowly, an edge to his tone. “What’s happened?”
She was trembling and breathing hard, as if she had just run a great distance. Morgen almost asked her if she was alright, but then she said, “Solmademe. I swear, Morgen, I didn’t want to hurt anyone?—”
“Made you what?” He somehow managed to keep his voice level, but he was about two seconds from losing it. Magic hummed beneath his fingertips, surges of deadly electricity begging to be released.
“There were others,” she whispered, her eyes huge and shining with tears. “We were supposed to help keep her contained while Sol talked, but she killed them. You need to fleenow. I can get you somewhere safe?—”
“Who?” he cut in sharply. “Who killed the others you were with?”
“Nya.” She said her name like it was a curse, and his anger flared into something dangerously close to uncontrolled. “I knew there was something wrong with her, but no one would listen! They all said we just had to follow your orders.”
He took a single step closer, suddenly hyperaware of every sound and sensation around him. Tiny rocks crunched beneath his boots. The air smelled acrid and hummed wildly with the energy of all the powerful gods behind him. Imeria was breathing fast, and the scent of blood that wasn’t hers clung to her clothing and skin.
The blood smelled familiar, he realized, like fire and metal and something else that was unnamable and ancient.
Nya.
“Did you send Feron and Sillas to kill her?” he asked in an emotionless voice.
Imeria took a step back, a shaking hand held in front of her. “Please, I was just trying to keep you safe.”
Varax snapped her jaws behind him, and this time, Morgen did not suppress the magic slamming against his skin. A bolt of crimson lightning exploded, close enough that Imeria yelped and fell back.
“I am fully aware of my own wife’s magic.” He dragged in a breath through his teeth, the temptation to strike her down where she stood growing stronger by the second. “And if you were truly loyal, you wouldn’t have questioned that or tried to turn my own soldiers against me.”
“Morgen, please. You don’t understand!” Imeria cried out, holding her hands in front of her. “It’s not just magic. There is a terrible place, a dark void no one should be able to touch, and she willingly reaches for it!”
He smiled, dipping his chin. “Oh, I know. I’ve been there more times than I can count.”
Beneath the droplets of blood, Imeria’s face abruptly lost all color, her lips parting in horror. The sky darkened abruptly, and Sora called, “Dragons!”
“Sol’s fleet,” Vulcan said, adding, “Be careful. They have riders.”
Imeria turned and ran, but this time, Morgen didn’t bother with her. He would deal with her later—if there was a later.
“Morgen.”
He turned and stiffened when he found Sora in front of him. She reached up and touched his cheek, her blue eyes nearly blotted out with ether.
