Page 244 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

“Nothing. I must do this.” He heaves a sigh. “This will take longer than I anticipated, but she cannot match my power indefinitely. Be ready.”

He launches another wave of fire toward the city wall.

83

Atticus

I watch from the tower with a mixture of awe and grim satisfaction as my battle recommendations come to life. Deep fissures crack the battleground, separating ribbons of the enemy army, making it difficult for them to advance in either direction. Beasts scream as they tumble into the crevices with no hope of crawling out.

Rows of stone towers rise from the ground on this side, scattering the enemies where they stand. Before they know what’s happening, the casters emerge from the top to hurl fireballs and arrows made of ice.

The enemy hacks and claws at the stone structures with reckless abandon, oblivious to the first wave of cavalry that charges in.

All is unfolding as planned. There is nothing more I can do from up here.

Kazimir and I dash down the stairs, aiming for our horses.

King Cheral is waiting, Satoria at his side. “Goodbye, wife.” He kisses her forehead in a peculiar—almost fatherly—show of affection, but given all she’s told me, I’m not surprised. Climbing into his saddle, he leans down to offer me his gauntlet-sheathed hand. “I still haven’t decided if I should execute you.”

I accept his gesture with a grin. “We can discuss it more later.”

His eyes sparkle. “Until then.” With a kick of his heels, he rushes past the wall.

Satoria runs to me as I reach my horse. “Did the queen take you to her last night?”

I don’t have to ask who she means. “Yes. Thank you for whatever it was you said to Romeria. And for everything else.” On impulse, I lean forward and kiss her goodbye. “Work on your assassin skills for me.”

Tears brim in her eyes as she nods.

And then I’m in my saddle and racing ahead.

84

Annika

Tyree sits on the stone ledge next to Neilina as her flesh knits itself back together, the token blade from Malachi and that gaudy rack of golden antlers in his grip, his face full of shock.

After that initial gasp of air, she demanded with a raspy, barely coherent voice that he “take them out” and then collapsed, unconscious.

There was only one thing she could mean.

With gritted teeth, Tyree wrenched Aoife’s token from her chest, the points leaving deep gouges.

“I would like to know who put that blade there,” I whisper from the opposite corner of the cave where I sit on a boulder. And thank them, I add in my head. According to Tyree, she wore the antlers like a necklace daily. Regardless, my feelings for her son do not change the reality that I have often wished for her death, and do not believe for one moment that my heart will soften for her as it did for him.

“I am much more interested in how the queen of a distant land ended up here.” Destry studies the replica nymphaeum stone beside her with intensity. She’s been quiet since they arrived, and on edge.

We all are.

“Maybe the wyvern carried her here.” But all the way from Ybaris?

“Who told it to do that?”

The fable Tyree shared earlier stirs in my mind. “Vin’nyla?” Who else could command one of these things but a fate? There’s certainly no Azyr nearby to guide the beasts.

“And why would one of your gods do that?”

“Because Neilina has a collection of elementals to summon them for her.” And we all know she isn’t above breaking her own rules. “Maybe the wyvern dropped her body in its lair and those little goblins made that nest for her.”

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