“I did. And they don’t. But.” Mariah drummed her fingers on the wood. “Rulene mentioned that there was one man present at the item’s creation. Not a god; just a regular man. They can’t remember who he was, what he looked like, or where he was from, but they know he was there. He recorded something that night, made sure the histories somewhere on the continent remembered what the gods had done.”
“Okay,” Drystan said. “Thatissomething. Next time, start with that.”
Mariah gave him a dead-panned stare.
“Rulene also thinks,” she continued, “that the magic each of my Armature carry—my magic—will help you find what we seek. It was forged with the power of all the gods. And my magic belonged to those gods once, too.” She ignored the hollowness in her chest, the emptiness left by the absence of that very magic. “Like calls to like, after all.” Her court traded glances. Jaws were tight and brows were furrowed, but no one pushed back.
“So,” Trefor said, “we need to find whatever this mystery man might have written. And then we need to use our special Armature magic powers to find the weapon itself.” He shrugged, though something manic glinted in his sea-green eyes. “Seems totally easy.”
“Mariah,” Ciana said slowly. “Either of those things could beanywhere. In any kingdom. How are we supposed to search every corner of the continent, and somehow still keep Onita from falling wholly into Kol’s grasp?”
Ciana was right. This was the part that Mariah had been dwelling on for the past day, ever since the gods had shared their knowledge and she’d realized what she needed to do. Icy fear slid through her veins, but she swallowed it down, clinging tightly to her burning resolve.
Whatever she had to do. It would all be worth it.
It had to be.
“I know, Cee.” Mariah twisted her fingers together atop the table. “There’s not enough time. But we have to do this. We have to search the whole continent, or else there will be no Onita to return to save.” Mariah met everyone’s gaze.
“That’s why we have to split up.”
She was grateful for the two heartbeats of peace before chaos erupted.
“We are absolutelynotleaving you?—”
“Do you not remember the last time we split up?—”
“Mariah, please. There has to be a better idea?—”
She let them vent. Let their words swirl around her, sink into her skin, soak into her bones.
She would miss this, she realized with a painful beat of her heart. This passion, this noise, this steadfast companionship and unwavering support. She’d spent their time in Desva self-isolating, taking for granted what she had.
Now that she was about to lose it, even for only a short while, it hit her how much she needed it.
The absence of another also hit her like a bolt from a crossbow. The one silent presence who would’ve stood amongst the noise, letting it rise and fall with a smirk and a brush of shadows down her spine.
No. Not yet. Not now. She had to hold herself together, just until this was through.
Mariah hung her head, drawing in three deep breaths, swallowing down the desperate longing yawning open aroundher. Shoving it back down, burying it there in that place where the beast and her magic slumbered.
When she raised her head, the first thing she noticed was the silence.
Her court had fallen still, their protests dying out on their lips as she’d done all she could to keep herself from falling apart. They watched her with heavy concern, some with thinly veiled fear.
The only way.
“None of us want this,” she said finally. “But we have no other choice. Kol is likely readying to leave Khento and take Verith. The more time we give him, the more time he’ll have to solidify his position in Onita and spread further across the continent.”
Her court exchanged wary glances but stayed quiet. Exhaustion slid through Mariah, the kind of weariness that only came when a fractured heart still fought to push forward.
“I don’t like this.” Ciana—blessed, brilliant, brave Ciana—spoke. “You need us—all of us. But if this is what you need”—she heaved a sigh— “what will you have us do?
The apprehension released. Mariah’s court settled back, still tense, still alert, but accepting. Ready.
Mariah smiled at her best friend. She reached her hand across the table, and Ciana took it without hesitation.
“Thank you, Cee,” she said quietly. “I know I need you. But I’ll be okay. This…this is more important than me.” Mariah straightened in her seat, softly clearing her throat.
