"Because Forlaith still knows about the Diath. More than a few times, someone has tried to revive them, their name, their worship. You can imagine what happened to such 'heretics'."
Great. Just what I needed—another reason for Forlaith to want my head.
"It's worth a try," I said. "I'd do anything to find the city—even debase myself and dance naked in the Forlaith fields."
"I like your enthusiasm.” Brighid grinned. "You might need it. There's precious little written on how Diaths harnessed their magic. Erotic dance might be necessary after all."
I choked on a laugh. "Saints, I hope not." Batting away the hope blooming in my heart, I raised my head. "How can you be sure of this? Wouldn't I know if I was some extraordinary mage?"
"There is one way to test it.” Brighid pulled her glove off. "A detail tucked in a journal I stole from Forlaith's archives." She grabbed my hand.
The frigid air burned away. Pillars of flame erupted from the ground and spiraled toward the sky, branching out in the pattern of an enormous tree. Darkness surrounded us—it pooled at ourfeet and blanketed the heavens, only illuminated by the living flame.
Brighid looked up at the canopy of burning branches. "Always there is that silent world, and the birds who sing its dirge." She laughed. "It’s beautiful."
"You think you're one too," I breathed.
"I wish I knew. All I have is that cryptic passage from the journal—and the one following it. 'At fate's crossroads, our hands brush." Her fingers tightened around mine. "Say nothing of this."
Transfixed by the fiery tree in the darkness, I reflected on Diar and the heron I'd seen soaring with my crow. I had crossed paths with other Diath, as though fate had willed us together.
But what was our place in history? What had our predecessors done to make Forlaith wipe us from the face of the earth?
Brighid retracted her hand, and the soothing darkness brightened. Starlight spilled through the tent flaps as they parted, and Reese stepped inside.
Compared to that world of night, his white surcoat and silver armor seemed too bright.
He laid a hand on the pommel of his blade. "I didn't see anything. We should be safe to leave."
"So eager to leave my company?" Brighid rolled up her scroll and tucked it safely into its cylinder. "The play was not my only condition; I need one more thing from you if you're to earn my help."
"Not to imply that you're normal.” Reese furrowed his brow. “But you're acting unusually . . . unusual.”
"How eloquent."
Bláth shoved past Reese, hands on her hips. With two Solhearts and a Fireborn in the tent, the temperature rose to that of a summer's day.
"Come on in," I said weakly. "Make yourselves at home."
Bláth looked like she might apologize, but Brighid interrupted her.
"As I said before—” Brighid rose and smoothed her skirts. "I'm getting married. You are most welcome to attend. Several members of the Lecovair and the widowed Empress of Forlaith will be present."
My stomach turned. Once upon a time, I would have killed a man to garner such an audience.
Now? Saints save me.
"There.” Brighid looked at me. "You can field an audience you would not otherwise find. Reese and your king can make official your title."
Reese grimaced. "I see what you're thinking, but?—”
"But nothing. Rarely do the Aenir king and Solheart queen find themselves together. You forget your own station, Reese. With the queen unwed, the Solheart Paragon, wielder of the holy rapier, is the highest-ranking man in Forlaith."
My stomach spun faster. Oh, saints.
I knew Reese was important, but I'd never considered Brighid's words.
She was absolutely right.
