Gods, Mariah wished she could have just a slightest hint of the surety in herself that Callamus had. She was thankful to the god in that moment, nonetheless. She gave him a small, tense smile, and he returned it with a nod.
Slowly, the Oracle sat down. The lines in her aged and weathered face were still tense, still distrusting, but she said nothing further. Mariah sat, too, and only then did she risk a glance at Andrian.
All she saw was that cold, unfeeling mask. His hands were clenched into fists, but everything else about him was shut down, locked, his mind far away.
Mariah’s heart cracked.
Merete cleared her throat. “While we have many questions about how areykrcame to be the consort of the Onitan Queen,” she said, “we will forgo answers on that for today. I am sure youare all weary from your journey.” She glanced into the shadows and the three figures from earlier remerged. “Our acolytes will show you to your residences. They have been appropriately provisioned, and you may call them home for as long as you remain with us.” She turned her gaze back to Mariah.
“I expect a priority of yours will be securing more than just physical allies. Do you wish for me to summon the Vigamor?”
Confusion trickled through Mariah. “The Vigamor?”
“The leaders of Leuxrith’s warriors,” Tomas answered. “We have no standing armies, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have strength to offer. If you wish to recruit fighters to your cause, you will need to convince the Vigamor.”
Interesting. “Thank you,” Mariah said. “I’m sure before this is done, we will seek their help. But we need answers before we can be ready to fight.” There was no point in raising an army if she had no way to defeat Kol. They could have the largest force on the continent, and none of it would matter if the God of the Sun couldn’t be killed.
Merete nodded, as if she understood everything Mariah didn’t say. “If there is anything else you require, you will let us know.”
“Thank you, Merete. I look forward to a long future between our two kingdoms.”
“I do as well, Your Majesty.”
“You can call me Mariah.” The barest hint of a smile tugged at Mariah’s mouth. “Friends don’t need to go by formalities.”
The councilor smiled as well. “Yes. Friends.”
Matheo and Andrian stood, the latter still tense and hidden behind a mask of dissociative ice. The waiting acolytes waved them toward the entrance to the temple, back toward the streets of Eyarfell.
Something halted Mariah’s feet.
She found Callamus’s gaze. Signe had approached, standing by his side. He lifted a brow, a silent question.
Mariah straightened her spine.
“Tomorrow,” she said to the god. “Let’s meet tomorrow.”
About her magic. About why it no longer answered her.
About how to get it back.
It was about damn time she stopped hiding from herself and her past.
A slow, knowing smile spread across the god’s face.
“Tomorrow it is.”
Chapter 36
Ciana was severely underdressed.
Mud caked her boots as she scanned the arches of the throne room, rays of sun beaming down through panes of colored stained glass. Vines blooming with flowers crawled up the pillars, filling the air with a sweet, earthen fragrance.
Their Vathan escort had been surprisingly welcoming. They’d allowed them the evening to rest on the Vathan side of the river, sharing a warm meal and skins of crisp, refreshing water. They were led to the Vathan capital of Elyren that morning with a new sense of urgency. They hadn’t been given a single moment to stare in wonder at the city—a city built into the towering trees, connected by suspended rope bridges above and smoothly paved roads below.
The Vathan King had ordered that they be brought straight to his throne room. Ciana had to remind herself that his eagerness was a good thing.
She wished, however, that she’d at least been given a half hour to wipe the grime of travel from her face and control the messy frizz of her curls, but she supposed not everything could go according to plan.
