“This past year, I have been told that I’m worthless by too many men to count. That I don’t have what it takes to be a queen, that my common-born blood makes me unworthy to wear a crown. Maybe they were right. But that doesn’t mean I will allowanyonewho doesn’t know the sacrifices I’ve made to treat me as less than what I am. Not even you so-calledgods.”
Priam dropped his smile, starry eyes turning to flint. “What makes you think that little knife can hurt me?”
Mariah let loose a low, bitter laugh. “I don’t,” she said. “But you haven’t moved a muscle since. Scared of a little blood, God of the Stars?”
As quickly as she’d caught him, she released him, dropping the dagger and stepping back. Priam still didn’t move—he only watched her, a guarded look now on his face.
“Five thousand years,” he murmured softly, “and you are the one who finally broke. You are the queen who let Kol manipulate you—the first to set my Golden’s grace free.” He sniffed, lip curling. “And Zadione was foolish enough to give you hers, too. The power of two goddesses, trapped in a mortal body. What does it mean, that the Crieré allowed you to exist?” Priam’s starlight silver eyes flashed. “How much can your mortal soul take, how much can your mortal body endure, before it breaks you, too?”
Questions and nauseating emotions swirled through Mariah. What was the Crieré?
What if Priam was right?
What if her magic was gone because she was a being who was never meant to exist?
“Priam, we said that is enough.” Rulene’s stern warning rang out across the sands. Mariah took another step back, sheathing her dagger into its holster on her thigh, pressing her shaking hands to her legs.
“I suppose we’ll just have to wait and find out.” This was the god whose Antechamber felt like a breath of peace? Who was responsible for ferrying the souls of the dead into the afterlife?
It made Mariah’s stomach turn, mingling with her sickly fear. She turned on her heel, striding back to her court, Kiira and Rylla padding at her side.
Quentin, Trefor, and Matheo were grinning wildly.
Sebastian, Ciana, and Delaynie looked like they were about to pass out.
Rulene and Callamus wore grim expressions, their attention fixed on Priam.
“Queen Mariah!”
Seven humans and three gods whipped their attentions toward the voice ringing out across the sands.
Amasis, High Counsellor of Kreah and their host, strode quickly from the village, their elegant frame moving with a graceful flow despite their hurried pace. They were polished, as usual: perfectly styled pale red robes, golden adornments and jewelry, high cheekbones dusted with gold.
Despite their collected appearance, their expression was as panicked as Amasis had ever been.
“Thank the goddess you’re here,” Amasis said breathlessly, halting a few paces from Mariah. “I assume this is also the first you are learning of your people’s…exodus.”
A muscle fluttered in Mariah’s jaw. “It is.” She glanced sharply at Priam, who still watched her with thinly veiled contempt.
Amasis’s shoulders deflated. “What a relief,” they breathed. “They need to go back. We cannot take them all in; Kreah does not have these sorts of resources?—”
“I can’t tell them to leave, Amasis.” Mariah’s sharp interruption was a shock even to herself. Amasis reeled, confusion twisting their face.
“Mariah… I don’t think you understand what the implications will be of this in Kreah.”
“I know it will be a burden on your people, Amasis. I am here to assist in any way I can. But I can’t in good conscience send those people back.” She took a deep breath, clenching her fists as her hands again started to shake. That pit in her soul yawned open, memories pushing and tugging at the frayed edges of her mind.
“I’ve seen what Kol is capable of. What he believes is owed to him. Priam was misguided for bringing these people here without warning or giving Kreah any advance notice, and for that, you have my apologies.” Mariah cut another glare at Priam,who only glared back. “But now that they’re here and know what danger is coming for them, I can’t send them back. I’m sorry.”
Amasis held Mariah’s gaze for a long moment, the leaders of two neighboring nations weighing the needs of their people against the value of their new friendship.
Amasis again sighed, a deep exhausted exhale. “All right,” they said, and for a moment, it looked to Mariah as if they’d aged a decade. “I made a promise to my goddess to come to your aid. If she supports you in this, then so will I. But be warned: there are many in Kreah who will not be so kind to the arrival of thousands of foreigners on their doorsteps.”
Amasis glanced past Mariah, and Mariah followed their gaze.
To Rulene, sky-blue hair waving in the breeze.
After a long, guarded look at Mariah, Rulene nodded. “Despite Priam’s rashness, I will support the Onitan Queen. These people should not be forced to go back to the darkness they are fleeing.”
