Mireille assisted Ronin to the floor as he cradled his injured groin. “Not an act,” he rasped.
“I know why you’re really here,” Layla said. “And I need your help.”
Ronin tensed, though both he and Mireille kept their expressions neutral. “Bullshit. You tried to have me killed at the fight last weekend.”
“I didn’t,” Layla hissed. “Who do you think paid Maloney to curb the killing blow? Otto was furious when his plan to eliminate his competition for Mireille didn’t pan out, though he never suspected why. I’ve been protecting you the whole time. He wanted to send Kosera after you when you woke up during the seance last night too, rough you up a bit. But I convinced him to let me do it instead. Promised to incapacitate you with Delirium. I knew you’d recover.” Layla bent forward, bracing her forearms on her knees, chest heaving.
“Why didn’t you tell us before?” Mireille asked.
“I thought I could take Otto down on my own, that I wouldn’t need to endanger anyone else. Or involve two spies sent by Imperial Affairs.” Layla cocked an eyebrow. “But I’m out of time. High Gods Matakos, that’s some grip you have.” She broke into a coughing fit.
Mireille approached, palms raised, then faster than Layla could stop her, had the female disarmed. She flipped a throwing knife in one hand as she winked at Ronin over her shoulder. He shot her a heated look.
She leveled the knives at Layla. “Explain. If I like what you have to say,maybeI’ll let you have these back. Though I can’t guarantee it. These are so light and well-balanced. Might just keep them for myself.”
Layla massaged her throat, the redness already fading thanks to her Fae healing. “If you help me, I just might let you.”
Mireille ambled over to Ronin, placing herself before him, the tip of the blades still aimed at Layla.
“I don’t work for Otto,” Layla said, trying to convey her sincerity with unwavering eye contact. “Or rather, hethinksI work for him, but I’ve been doing quite the opposite for decades.”
Both Ronin and Mireille remained silent.
Layla smirked. “Saving your questions until the end? I like you two.” Her features hardened. “I work for an organization called the Teles Chrysos. I’m going to assume you’ve never heard of us.”
Mireille hadn’t heard of them, though she did recognize the word Teles. The name of that symbol long associated with the Fallen Goddess, a circle slashed through with a vertical line.
“We are working to keep Adelphinae’s faith alive. Hertruefaith. Not whatever bastardized version Otto believes he’s supporting.” Layla ran a hand down her white braid, the blackone blending in with her tight leather uniform. “Otto has been hunting down information about the Fallen Goddess for centuries. At first, we thought to recruit him, but he’s stymied all our efforts at contact. Pursing his own agenda. Our leadership decided it would be wise to put someone on the inside. To make a move against him, if necessary.”
“Let me guess,” Mireille chimed in. “Now’s the time to make the move.”
Layla nodded. “Everything he’s working toward culminates tomorrow.”
Mireille aimed a careful glance at Ronin. Could they trust Layla? Ronin gave her a subtle nod.
“The Empire has assigned us the same task,” he said. “We’ve been sent to decipher his plans and thwart them. Take him down.”
“One of the rare occasions where our goals align with the Empire. The Erabis family are worse than you can imagine. They will be the destruction of this world if their power remains unchecked.” Mireille remembered Layla’s history. That she’d been a Shadow Maiden to Empress Mila herself. Must have had a front row seat to the Erabis family’s evils. “But they aren’t the most immediate threat. If Otto is able to raise his weapon…”
“Whatisthe weapon?” Mireille asked.
A look of pure horror twisted Layla’s delicate features. “He intends to resurrect Nyctima.”
“What?” Ronin spat at the same time Mireille whispered, “How is that even possible?”
“Nyctima is amyth,” Ronin said.
Layla shook her head. “The most powerful myths are woven with threads of truth. Nyctima was once very much real. An emissary, of sorts, for Adelphinae on Ethyrios. They say it was Leonin Erabis’s grandfather, Phaeban Erabis, who destroyed her over a millennium ago, back when their family first turned fromthe Creator’s faith. He used her bones to build parts of this estate.”
Mireille shuddered. Cathedral of Bones.Literally.
“How was he able to destroy her?” Ronin asked.
“He summoned her with a flute made of fire opal. A powerful object that Adelphinae had gifted to the Delphine, the head of her priestesses here in Ethyrios. Phaeban sacked one of her temples and stole it. Stygios’s myth,the Taming of Nyctima, is a bastardization of Phaeban’s story, twisted to make it seem as if the High God himself turned Nyctima into his ownpet.”
“The statue in the galleries,” Mireille turned to Ronin. “Stygios was playing a flute.”
Ronin didn’t respond, was still carefully regarding Layla. “How do you know this? And why does no one else on the continent speak of it?”
