Page 52 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

“So, what exactly is your plan?”

“I don’t have one yet. I’m hoping it’ll come to me as I go.”

“Because that always works out so well,” Jarek says wryly.

I ignore him. “Zorya will stay with you. Ignore her surliness. You’ll be safe. And I’ve asked the sylx to bring you any books about the fates. It might be helpful.”

“Oh, is she here?” Agatha searches around. “I look forward to meeting her.”

“That might change quickly.” My irritation with Lucretia hasn’t lessened since the meeting with the nymph elders. “Do you think Aminadav and Vin’nyla will punish us for what Aoife and Malachi are doing?”

“I would not be surprised if they did. Why do you ask?”

“Just something Lucretia said.” I retrieve the bronze token from my satchel and hold it up. “Just before she gave me this. Also a gift from the nymphs.”

Her eyes widen. “Aminadav’s horn.”

“Yes. But I don’t know what it does.” I repeat Lucretia’s words about using it during the darkest hour. “What kind of relief could it bring?”

Agatha purses her lips as if she’s holding back words. “Raw tokens like this are scarce, and usually tied to a summons. Often, unlocking their power requires sacrifice in the form of a life.”

“Whose life?” Jarek demands to know.

“That is the fate’s decision. The nymphs may have gifted this to you, but they received it directly from Aminadav. He decides the cost.”

“Sofie stabbed me with a large chunk of Malachi’s horn as part of whatever ritual she performed to send me here,” I say, recalling the curved black object in her fist.

“And I believe Aoife claimed Neilina’s life form with her antlers,” Agatha notes.

Lucretia all but confirmed it. I see the picture Agatha is painting. “You’re saying that if I blow this horn, someone is going to die.”

“Someone or more than someone. In our archives, there is a story of Aminadav gifting his horn to a king in the face of war once, many years ago.”

“And? What happened?”

“The king and his entire army perished in an instant. The war ended.” Her smile is wry. “I suppose one might say they found relief in death.”

My stomach sinks with dread as I shove the horn into my satchel and vow never to use it. “Good to know.” I stand to leave.

Agatha holds up a finger. “One other thing I did not mention before but ought to, given your question of the fates’ meddling. The wyvern has long since been considered Vin’nyla’s creation.”

I frown. “You mean, like daaknars are Malachi’s?”

“Precisely, which makes me wonder why one would carry Aoife’s vessel body from the rift. I doubt it is in aid.”

I reconsider what Lucretia said earlier under this lens. “You think Vin’nyla has somehow sabotaged Aoife’s plan to return to this plane?”

Agatha shrugs. “Once can only hope.”

I can’t decide if this is good news. “Thank you for sharing your knowledge with me. I would be lost without you.”

“Of course.” She bows. “I am here to serve the Queen for All.”

My back is to the caster when she calls out, “Your Highness!” She hesitates, fumbling with a locket around her neck. “There is a young scribe. A boy, really. Cahill is his name. Might I ask, if you find him in Nyos, can you bring him here? He is dear to me, and I would very much like to have him at my side.”

My instincts tell me there is more to this story, but I simply nod. “I’ll make sure he comes.”

“Be careful, Your Highness!” She wrings her hands. “Our realms cannot afford to lose you.”

---