33. The King of Gods #2
"Poetic," Olinthar observed, a dangerous smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "But not, I think, a clear statement of rules. You spoke of emotions, of reflections. Not once did you mention a requirement to confess one's darkest secrets to pass."
"It was clearly understood—" Thalor began.
"Understood is not the same as declared," Olinthar cut him off, his voice hardening. "If you did not state explicitly that confession was required, then refusing to confess cannot be grounds for execution."
"And was it explicitly stated that they could not kill your sirens?" Olinthar continued, a note of amusement coloring his voice .
Sylphia seemed at a loss for words. The balance of power had shifted the moment Olinthar appeared, and they all knew it.
"In fact," Olinthar continued, "I believe such a display should be celebrated instead of scorned." His gaze fixed on Thatcher, and I felt my twin bristle through our bond. "Creativity in the face of impossible choices is precisely what we should value in potential ascendants."
Has he done this before? I wondered, watching the uncomfortable stillness that had fallen over the gathering.
Had Olinthar ever intervened in the Trials on behalf of a contestant?
The reaction of the other Legends suggested not.
This was unprecedented—and it made abundantly clear that Thatcher had captured our father's attention in a way that set off warning bells in my mind.
Thais, there’s something I need to tell you. Don’t panic.
More than I’m currently doing?
I’ve been in Sundralis. Chavore has taken me there on several occasions now.
My heart stilled. What? Is this your first time meeting Olinthar?
His mental voice surged with sudden intensity, a cascade of surprise and revulsion coursing through our connection. Yes. Gods, yes. I've never— His thoughts fractured. I've only glimpsed him from afar, through windows and across courtyards.
Thatcher, there's something I found out. The domains of War and Order are merging.
His eyes widened fractionally before he controlled his reaction. That explains all the activity in Sundralis.
Don't tell anyone. Don't act like you know, I cautioned, my mental voice tight.
What does it mean? Why keep it secret?
I don't know, but it can't be good.
His eyes flicked to mine, indigo irises darkening with concern. How did you find this out?
I hesitated, then admitted, In the Eternal City. I watched Xül interrogate a Lightbringer spy .
A moment of silence stretched between us as the implications settled. Then my curiosity got the better of me.
What's it like? I asked through our bond. Sundralis.
Thatcher's expression flickered, a shadow crossing his features before he caught himself. Strange, honestly.
Strange how?
He shifted his weight, eyes darting briefly toward Olinthar before returning to me. For a place that's supposed to be all about light and order, it feels... off. Heavy. Like there's this weight pressing down on everything.
What do you mean?
The light there— His thoughts came in bursts.
It's everywhere, right? Blinding. Perfect.
But it doesn't actually feel warm. A flash of memory leaked through our bond—Thatcher standing alone in a golden hallway, shivering despite being bathed in brilliance.
Sometimes I'd be standing in direct sunlight and feel cold right down to my bones.
Like the light's just for show, you know?
A chill traced my spine despite the heat of the day. And nobody notices?
If they do, they don't talk about it. Thatcher's face remained carefully blank as Olinthar continued speaking with Thalor.
They're preparing for something.
And now we have to find out exactly what that is.
"No rules have been broken," Thalor’s voice cut through our conversation, dripping with contempt. "You have both passed."
Chavore grinned triumphantly at his father's side. Xül's expression remained unchanged, but I noticed a slight easing of tension in his shoulders.
"Then this trial is concluded," Olinthar declared, his voice carrying across the beach. "Those who have passed will prepare for the next challenge."
Every Legend and blessed contestant looked at us now, their gazes burning with a mixture of fear, resentment, and calculation. We had made enemies today—powerful ones. Even if we made it to ascension, we would forever have targets on our backs.
But as my eyes locked on Olinthar's perfect face, I found that I didn't care.
Let them come for me—whenever, however they chose.
As long as I had the chance to end the life of the monster standing before us.
I saw it all then. Sulien's blood on sand.
My mother's fading portrait. The taste of ash and loss and twenty-six years of hiding—it all erupted through my veins.
I bit down on my tongue hard enough to taste copper, using pain to anchor myself. Each beat of my heart seemed to pulse with starlight and vengeance, the twin forces now indistinguishable from each other.
I would see Olinthar dead if it was the last thing I ever did.
As the Aesymar began portaling back to their respective domains, Xül’s hand wrapped around my wrist.
“It’s time to go, Thais.” His voice was stern. “There’s something I need to show you.”
“Where are we going?”
“A place that doesn’t exist on any maps.”