When he gets to me, I raise a brow. “Whose cream did you use?”
“Riven’s.”
“Yum. I love how sweet it is.”
“I’ve got something that tastes even sweeter than that, little burden.”
I contemplate throwing my coffee on him for a split second.
“You’re the only being who can release power from the Binding.”
The thoughts of scalding Riven freeze in my mind as my neck slowly turns back to Amick.
“Excuse me?”
His shoulders slump as he first sets his mug down on the side table, then drags the ottoman toward me.
My eyes stalk his every move.
He laces his fingers together and mine literally start to tremble. Even those that Kyzen’s still gripping, shake.
“When your power came out in the Court, you were channeling the power of the God of Consequence. When you destroyed your bathroom, Derivius. Turning that man to ash was the God of Obliteration. You don’t have any extra power from him. You know that, though, don’t you,Mysenta?”
The ringing in my ears doesn’t block out the sound of my heart pounding or the heavy breaths falling from my chest. The longer I stare into his understanding, citrine eyes, the louder it all gets.
The weight of the truth behind his words crashes through me with more force than the current of the Lost Sea did.
I can’t do anything but vibrate and nod.
“You’ve been denying it in your minds, waiting for V, Seismet, or me to tell you something else, prove you wrong.”
Tears well in my eyes and again, words escape me.
“Every time your power has shown itself, something negative, in your opinion, has followed. Turning that man to ash was so extreme, the only justification you could make for it was to believe our father gave you extra power. You tried to convince yourself that, then because of that, your solution was to ignore the fact you have any power. If you ignored it hard enough, then it would lessen your fear of becoming the very thing you despise. A powerful god.”
“Amick,” Kyzen says, but Amick shakes his head.
“She has to face it. She’s going to face it, right here and now so we can support her.”
I jerk my head. For what reason, I don’t know, other than I need to move my body to relieve some of the pressure building in me.
What’s bubbling beneath my surface, though, isn’t my power.
It’s worse.
It’s my emotions.
The words—the truth—claw at my throat, demanding release.
I can’t run from it anymore.
“I know…”
“What do you know, Thayla?”
“I have a touch of all seven Beginning Gods’ powers.”
“When did you know that for sure? Not assumed but knew.”
