Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Agnar’s voice burns like acid as he relays what happened with Sterling during training. His vivid blue eyes, often crinkled at the corners with easy humor, appear flat and hard as he recounts Zeru’s visit. Each word carves new lines of fury into my heart.
The god’s threats linger in the air of my sitting room like acrid smoke that taints everything and seeps into the fabric of the cushions and weave of the rugs. I dig my fingernails into my palms, the sharp pain a welcome distraction from the storm building inside me.
“And he destroyed the middle of that training field.” Agnar shifts his weight, his posture stiff. “Then, poof! He disappeared. Like the laws of space meant nothing.”
“Because they don’t. Not to them.” I think back to all the times gods popped in and out of my life at will. “Neither do basic manners.”
Agnar’s coppery hair falls across his forehead when he nods. “He claims the gods are displeased with how things are progressing.” He clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “He said if you continue, there would be consequences. Not just for you and Sterling, but for all of Tirene.”
The fire magic inside me swells in response to my anger, boiling my blood until I’m certain steam must be rising from my skin. “Prick gods. Playing with our lives like we’re game pieces on a board isn’t enough for them. They’ve gotta be creepy and pushy about it too.”
Agnar waits without flinching while I rant. He’s experienced this version of me before, the one with barely contained fury and magic thrumming at my fingertips.
“I need to find Rafe and Helene.” I gnaw on my lower lip. “See what they’ve discovered about those scientist-priests.”
Agnar nods, relief loosening his shoulders. “Last I heard, they were meeting with Leesa and Bastian. Not sure where.”
“I’ll find them.” I head toward the door before pausing. “Thank you, Agnar. For telling me everything. For not…softening the news.”
A ghost of his usual grin flickers across his face. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Lark. You’d see right through me anyway. Besides, watching you lose your shit is oddly satisfying.”
I snort. “So glad I could entertain you.”
On that note, I leave him and stride through the corridors with purpose. Servants and couriers flatten themselves against walls as I pass, no doubt noting the angry flames flickering along my skin. My magic has started reacting to my thoughts and emotions.
Cursed gods. Damn all of them with their riddles and threats and manipulations.
Haven’t humans suffered enough at their hands?
Haven’t we sacrificed enough already? Haven’t I given enough?
My birth parents, my childhood, my adoptive mother and biological grandfather.
Olive, Nick, Blair, as well as other friends, and very nearly Sterling…
The memory of Sterling, his mind controlled by Narc’s magic, triggers another irate wave of blistering heat.
I spent my entire life as a pawn, shuffled between kingdoms, lied to about my true heritage, nearly murdered more than once.
And now that I finally have some measure of control, enough power to steer my own fate, the gods want to threaten me into submission?
Not fucking likely.
I check the usual meeting rooms first—the council chamber, the war room, the archives—but find no sign of Rafe or Helene, let alone my sister or Bastian. With each empty space, frustration mounts. Where in the blazes are they?
It’s pure chance that I glimpse light spilling from beneath the door of a rarely used chamber in the eastern wing.
Slowing my steps, I listen as I approach.
Raised voices filter through the heavy oak.
Rafe’s distinctive bark, followed by Helene’s caustic tones.
My sister’s higher pitch slices through them both.
I shove the door open without knocking, using more force than necessary and sending it crashing against the wall.
Four heads swivel toward me, the expressions ranging from surprise to guilt.
The group is gathered around a table littered with maps, ancient-looking scrolls, and architectural drawings.
Rafe leans over the table with his hands braced on the wood.
Helene faces him with her arms crossed and her mouth twisted in disdain.
Leesa and Bastian stand by Helene, my sister’s hand clutching Bastian’s forearm as if restraining him.
Silence falls over the room like a blanket. I arch an eyebrow. “Well, isn’t this cozy?”
Rafe straightens, brushing nonexistent lint from his sleeve. “Your Majesty, ahh, Lark. I apologize. We were just—”
“Arguing? I gathered that.” I enter the room and let the door swing shut behind me. “I could hear you from down the corridor.”
Helene sniffs, her dark eyes cold. “More like discussing our differing professional opinions.” When my eyebrows lift even higher, she tacks on, “in loud voices,” with a grumpy huff.
“I see.” I stride over and scan the documents spread across the table. Most appear to be maps of the city’s temple district. “Where are you at in your investigation of the missing scientist-priests?”
The four of them exchange glances, a silent communication passing between them that snaps my teeth together. I’m so tired of secrets. Tired of half-truths and careful omissions.
“We’ve made progress.” Rafe kneads the back of his neck. “We think we found where their own investigations might have taken place.”
My eyes narrow. “And you’re just now telling me?”
Bastian shifts toward me, his hazel eyes earnest. “We only confirmed it this morning, Lark. We were debating the best approach to the location before bringing the information to you.”
I cross my arms. “What’s the location?”
Rafe taps a spot on one of the maps. “A crypt. Under Cyphero’s temple.”
The chill running through me momentarily cools my anger. Cyphero, God of Hidden Knowledge. Notoriously enigmatic about his allegiances. “You think the scientist-priests were working in a crypt? Under a god’s temple?”
“We know they were. We have testimony from three separate sources, plus these.” Helene pushes forward a stack of parchments covered in cramped writing. “Records of supplies being delivered there over the past season. Equipment consistent with magical experimentation.”
I scan the list. Crystal rods, silver wire, specialized herbs, inks crafted from rare minerals. “What were they trying to do?”
Leesa clears her throat, drawing my attention.
Her wavy hair is pulled back in a simple knot, her brown eyes troubled.
“That’s what we were discussing when you arrived.
We can’t be certain what they were researching, but,” she glances at Bastian, who nods encouragingly, “we believe it has something to do with the boundary between the mortal realm and the gods’ realm. ”
“We don’t know if Cyphero sanctioned this research or not.” Bastian rubs his eyes. “We can’t figure out if he’s a good god or a bad god in all this.”
A harsh laugh scrapes my throat. Just hearing the words “a good god or a bad god” spoken aloud pitches my stomach. “Maybe they’re all bad. I mean, if we follow the gods, but the gods themselves don’t follow their own teachings, are any of them truly ‘good’?”
The room falls silent.
Even Rafe, never one to mince words, remains quiet and shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
“They’re all-powerful.” Bastian breaks the quiet, his voice gentle but firm. “And complicated. And we can’t risk showing favoritism to one and pissing off the others.”
I rest my palms on the table, staring at each of them in turn. “We can’t risk not going either.”
More glances are traded, along with more silent communication.
“Now?” Rafe’s eyebrows disappear into his hairline.
“Yes, now.” I straighten to my full height. Zeru’s surprise appearance worries me. We may not have as much time as we thought, so everything needs to happen faster. “Unless you have a more pressing engagement, Rafe?”
He has the grace to look abashed. “No, of course not. But perhaps we should call for Knox first. His magic might be useful if there are…traps.”
“He’s sleeping.” I slash my hand through the air, cutting off that line of thinking. “He’s been training with Rivlan for days, pushing his magic to new limits. He staggered to bed this morning, barely conscious.”
An image of Sterling, his bronze skin ashen with exhaustion, his usually alert eyes dulled, flashes in my mind. He’s been working so hard, trying to master new techniques under Rivlan’s demanding tutelage. I refuse to wake him for this or anything else unless absolutely necessary.
Helene assesses me coolly. “All the more reason to wait. If the crown prince is depleted, and you rush into danger without him—”
“Surely the five of us can figure out what a mysterious religious cult is up to on our own?” The question rushes out of me, dripping with sarcasm.
Bastian and Leesa trade another look, this one laden with meaning I can’t quite decipher.
My brother sighs, his posture slumping. “Fine. But Leesa stays.”
I blink, my gaze shifting between them. “Why?”
Leesa steps forward, her hands clasped together in front of her. For the first time, I notice a subtle new roundness to her stomach, accentuated by the way she’s cupping her belly.
A thrill runs up my arms, and I wait for the announcement with bated breath.
“I’m…” She pauses to inflate her lungs. “I’m pregnant.”
The words transform the atmosphere. The tension in the room dissipates.
“Pregnant?” I need to check that I heard her correctly.
She nods, a small smile playing at her lips despite the seriousness of our discussion. “About three months along. We only just confirmed it last week.”
Bastian moves closer to her, his hand coming to rest protectively at the small of her back.
A feeling so complex I can barely name its components cracks open inside me. Bright joy as clear as morning sunlight. Fragile but persistent hope.
And beneath it all, a current of dread.
A baby.
New life in the middle of all this chaos and danger. A child who will be my niece or nephew, who will bear the legacy of our complicated family, our magic, our royal blood.
A child whose safety might be threatened by this looming war with the gods.
I push away the fear and focus on the excitement.
“I can’t believe it! I’m going to be an aunt!
You’re going to be a mom!” Squealing, I embrace Leesa, holding her tight for several long moments before releasing her and repeating the gesture with Bastian.
“Congratulations, I’m so happy for you both. ”
When I pull back, my eyes are damp, but my resolve has only strengthened. This only solidifies my determination to figure everything out. To understand what the gods want, the reasons behind the scientist-priests’ actions, and the threat dangling over us all.
Leesa shakes her finger in my face. “Pregnancy doesn’t automatically turn me into a porcelain princess.”
I grab the appendage and yank it down. “But pregnancy does mean that you shouldn’t take any unnecessary risks when there are others who can instead.
If I had to stay home to deal with royalty crap, you can stay home to grow a baby.
The rest of us can go as soon as possible. We don’t have the luxury of time.”
Rafe and Helene appear disgruntled but begin gathering the most important maps and documents. Bastian presses a soft kiss to Leesa’s lips and murmurs something in her ear.
She nods while focusing on me, worry and pride mingling in her gaze. “Be careful. All of you.”
With effort, I manage a smile. “Aren’t I always?”
Her bark of laughter follows us as we head out to seek an ancient crypt located beneath the temple of a god who may or may not be our enemy, in search of secrets that could either save or damn us all.
Basically, just another day as Queen of Tirene.