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If we knew which gods stood against each other, we might be forced to choose. And what if Nyc and Ziva are on separate sides? Who would I align myself with?

“I wouldn’t know how to choose.”

Sterling’s dark eyes find mine. “Choose what?”

I realize that I’ve spoken out loud. Swallowing hard, I do my best to ignore the terrifying implications. “If we knew which gods were fighting which, we’d have to pick a side, wouldn’t we? The kingdom would have to ally with some deities over others.”

Horror blooms across the face of every council member.

“No.” Sterling’s voice is firm. “Our allegiance is to Tirene and her people. Not to gods who’ve decided to use our world as their battlefield.”

Agnar scratches his chin, where stubble has formed after days without proper grooming. “Noble sentiment, but practically speaking, the temples would force the issue. The high priests would never allow the crown to remain neutral. Citizens can abstain, but the queen must choose. Not picking a side is the same as aligning us against them all.”

Even worse.

I rub my eyes, fighting frustration and fatigue.

What if Rivlan, God of Water, stands against Ziva? Sterling and I aren’t the only ones who would need to pick a side. If the elemental gods insist their magic users side with them, it would tear families and friends apart. No matter the kingdom.

My headache throbs.

“Let’s focus on what we can control. Immediate actions.” I draw a line under our list of facts and begin a new section. “First, establish and maintain perimeters at sacred sites. Every temple, shrine, and holy spring needs additional guards. Not to impede anyone from coming and going, but to be on hand for when emergencies happen. With couriers ready to send word.”

“Teach magic merging.” Agnar shrugs as if it’s obvious, but his suggestion gets blank stares from the councilors. “What? Queen Alannah taught dampening to all the guards and servants during the drachen attacks. That was picked up by the nobles, the craftsmen, and then their families. It’s how we got away with as few casualties as we did. If I’d taught my sister…”

He slams his cup to his mouth as if trying to drown out the next words.

My heart squeezes when I realize what he cut off.

He believes that if he taught his sister to dampen, she wouldn’t have been corrupted, Rose wouldn’t have been taken, and his brother-in-law wouldn’t have died a gruesome death.

While I doubt any of that is true, I know how quickly the mind can settle all the blame on one’s own shoulders.

“I like that. It’s a good idea.” Dalya plants her fist on the table. “Teach magic merging. Though it won’t do much good to those outside Tirene, it will at least strengthen the magic of our kingdom.”

“In that case…” Rafe starts rummaging through the piles of papers he always brings to these meetings. “We need to cultivate the Fusion Root Vine. The tea made from it helps people merge smoothly. We’ll grow as many of them as possible.”

“Rafe.” I dip my chin at him, and his eyes snap up to meet mine. “You’ve merged with us. Work with Bastian to write down detailed instructions on how to do so. Once you agree on the wording, start making as many copies as possible.”

Sterling, catching on, addresses Fenton. “Your herbalists are top-notch. Do they have Fusion Root Vines in their gardens?”

“I’m sure they do. Everything started growing better after Narc and his drachen were defeated.” Fenton straightens his wiry frame. “I’ll have them take stock of the plants and get an inventory. Would you like me to coordinate with the palace herbalists to…”

“Yes. But I want you to take charge of it. Find out how many plants we have access to and how quickly they can be propagated.” Sterling writes a quick letter and pushes it to me. “Anyone who has an herbalist or a garden of their own, please check yours immediately.”

Several chairs scrape across the floor as most of the council members stand.

Scanning the message, I find it gives Fenton authority to query and work with all herbalists, including those employed by other nobles. The letter only requires the queen’s signature to be valid. “Report back as soon as you can. The faster we get this moving, the sooner everyone will be able to protect themselves.”

Agnar rises, grabbing the stack of papers Rafe has been collecting. “I’ll help write up instructions.”

“We also need to prepare for refugees.” Sterling gestures to my list. “When strange things happen, people flee. Every major city should establish protocols for housing and feeding sudden influxes of displaced people.”

I watch him while chewing on my cheek. Something’s off. Something beyond the obvious stress of our situation. I’ve experienced Sterling worried, angry, and even frightened, but this is different. His movements, usually economical and controlled, contain a jittery quality I’ve never witnessed before.

I sigh and create a mental reminder to revisit that concern later. For now, we have solid ideas and a host of orders to distribute.

For the next few hours, council members come and go, reporting the good news of a growing number of Fusion Root Vines. The royal scribes busy themselves with drafting copies of the map, adding all the markers and jotting down notes to explain the overlapping lines of interference.