Page 150 of Burn of the Everflame

“Come on, girl,” Diem whispered to herself. “Give him another chance.”

But gryverns were as stubborn a creature ever made. Once scorned, their grudges could fester for lifetimes. Sorae fled to her perch, leaving Tybold snarling as he stomped away.

Diem looked crestfallen. “After all that time apart, they’re finally reunited. Why won’t they get past whatever this is and be together?”

Holding my tongue was a gargantuan task.

“Have you thought about where you’ll go next?” I asked instead.

“Omnos, maybe.”

“Again?”

She thumbed the empty scabbard at her hip. She hadn’t told anyone what had happened to the sword the Kindred had given her, but when she vanished for a trip alone to the Forgotten Lands shortly after Fortos, I pieced the truth together. She’d returned with no sword and bad news: there was no sign of Ophiucae or his men, and their camp had been abandoned.

“Omnos is his realm,” she said. “I don’t think he’ll stay away from it for long.” She looked up at me. “Mother’s source still hasn’t told us where they went?”

I shook my head. “They must worry they’re close to being caught. She says their messages are getting vaguer and harder to decipher.” I paused. “May I suggest you go somewhere else?”

That caught her attention. “Where?”

“Umbros. Zalaric has been exchanging hawks with the half-mortals there. They’re still too afraid to return to Lumnos. He thinks they need to hear from you directly.”

She stared at her feet. “Umbros,” she repeated.

“Zalaric wanted you to visit weeks ago, and I told him not to ask. I thought I could fix the problem on my own.” Another failure, I thought. “That was a mistake. I shouldn’t have kept you away.”

“You didn’t,” she said softly. Guiltily. “I’ve been avoiding it on my own. Yrselle said some things to me there . . . and again, on the island . . .” Her gaze slowly lifted to the palace, to the terrace connected to her suite. Something flickered over her features. “Use my key,” she whispered.

“What key?” I asked.

“Oh, uh—nothing.” She nodded. “I’ll leave for Umbros tomorrow.”

My heart sank. She’d only just returned. “If you need a few days to rest⁠—”

“I’ll be fine.” She abruptly began walking toward camp. “Is that all?”

I jogged to catch up. “I’d like your blessing to visit the Unhoused Descended. I’m supposed to represent the half-mortals on the council, and I hear there may be some living in hiding there. I should go meet them.”

“You don’t need my permission for that.”

“No, but . . . that’s not the only reason I’m going. I’d like their support for my bid to be Chief of Council.”

She stopped again, eyes fixed ahead.

“I’ve been thinking,” I went on, “it would be better if someone other than you stepped up to lead the governing council. Someone who is aligned with your vision but has more time to handle the demands.” I paused, awaiting her reaction, but she only stared ahead and blinked. “I have good relationships with the Twenty Houses. And I’m building my rapport with the mortals—your mother, of course, and just today, I spoke with Henri’s father.”

I’d spoken with Henri, too . . . that was a conversation for later.

“I’ll only do it with your support,” I said. “I will not tolerate any speculation that I’m trying to take your place.”

My apprehension rose at her guarded expression. Did she see this as a betrayal? A punishment, for pushing me away?

“Diem, if you don’t want⁠—”

“You’re absolutely right.” Her voice was hoarse. “Someone else should run the council. Someone who can lead them if . . .” She trailed off. “You’re the perfect choice.”

There was so much more I wanted to say. I wanted to explain how I’d spent all afternoon reflecting. I wanted to share my decisions and my plans, all the changes I knew the council could enact, the suffering we could put to an end. I was excited and nervous, two emotions I rarely felt. For the first time since Sophos, I had a vision for the future that left me inspired.