Page 58 of Threaded

The War raged for many years, and the race of men struggled against the never-ending onslaught from the darkest pits of Enfara. The War eventually came to a crest when a simple medic in the armies of men, a young woman named Xara, was approached by Qhohena in a dream. The Golden Moon Goddess, the Goddess of Life, gifted her a piece of her own essence, magic that bound itself to Xara’s soul, a power that gave her people, Qhohena’s people, a chance at survival.

The same magic that now flowed in Mariah’s veins.

“We all grew up with these stories, Sebastian,” Mariah grumbled. “Carrying Qhohena’s undiluted power, Xara rallied her people, called down dragons from the very stars, and met Flétrir on a great battlefield, where she—”

“Where she lost.” Andrian’s voice rumbled through the room, cutting her off.

Mariah and Sebastian whipped their heads as Andrian sauntered out from the shadows between the shelves, carrying another leather-bound tome in his hands. Its binding was a rich red, the color of freshly spilled blood, and just the sight of it had the hairs on Mariah’s arms standing on edge. Quentin, seated to Mariah’s right and busy picking at his nails with a short bronze dagger, only flicked his eyes to Andrian in mild disinterest before continuing to toy with the deadly blade.

“What in the Goddess’s name are you talking about?” Sebastian’s normally calm voice carried a tinge of annoyance.

Mariah wondered, briefly, how they’d fared as boys. Wondered ifshewas to blame for any of the tension she now felt rolling off Sebastian.

Andrian ignored his fellow Armature and stalked forward, dropping the red leather book onto the table with a softthud.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just something I read.” Andrian shrugged before tapping the cover of the book. “Here, in this: an original recording from one of Xara’s own Armature.”

Mariah turned slowly, looking at Andrian, her eyes blinking once in astonishment. Dumbfounded, Sebastian dropped his gaze to the book, staring at it for three heartbeats before surging forward, snatching it into his hands and opening to the first page, reading the author’s inscriptions. His eyes widened as he took in the words, his jaw hanging slack. “But … this is impossible. That would make this book nearly five thousand years old, and it hardly looks older than a decade.”

Andrian shrugged again. “I’d say it’s totally possible, especially if Xara herself enchanted it with her magic to prevent it from aging. I’m sure our littlequeencould confirm that for you.”

If her stare were daggers, Andrian would be pierced in multiple places, bleeding out upon the smooth tile floors. The image brought her some peace as he flashed her a grin that showed too many teeth to be friendly.

Slowly, she extended her hand to where Sebastian had set the book back down on the table, opening her senses as she did so. Sure enough, there it was, that same feeling that had raced through her when she’d first seen the text in Andrian’s arms: a faint thrum of power, woven into the leather and the pages themselves, a power her own recognized, called to, but was too embedded in the tome to leap out.

Mariah’s face must’ve reflected what she found. “Shit,” said Sebastian under his breath before turning his attention back to Andrian. “Where did you find this?”

Andrian gave yet another infuriating shrug, gesturing over his shoulder with his chin as he crossed his arms. “Back there, somewhere. I’m not entirely sure. And as I said earlier, you’re not the only one who frequents these stacks.” He chose that moment to turn his attention to Mariah and wink, slow and devilish.

She couldn’t stop the flush that crept up her neck.

She despised him.Somuch.

Andrian grabbed the back of the chair in front of him, turning it around so its back now faced the table, and sat in it, his strong thighs straddling the mahogany wood. Mariah swallowed as she watched his smooth movement, and when he caught her gaze, she yanked her eyes away to stare intently at a swirl in the wood in the table in front of her.

There was a heavy, expectant pause. Finally, Andrian spoke again.

“If you all would like me to share the details of what I found while reading from this fascinating little piece of lost history, I would be happy to continue.”

Sebastian sighed, moving from behind Mariah and taking a seat in the chair beside Quentin, clearly exasperated. “Yes, by the Goddess, Andrian, please share. You’ve got us all on the edge of our fucking seats.” He paused, before muttering under his breath, “Asshole.”

Mariah tried—and failed—to suppress her grin.

There was another pause before Andrian’s voice rumbled again through the room.

“According tothistext, Xara and her forces lost to Flétrir, and the casualties were severe. Even the great dragons, creatures of myth and legend themselves, weren’t enough to stop the Scourge as he ravaged his way across the earth. But it was after his victory, when hope was all but lost, that Flétrir revealed his war had never been waged because he desired to rule or to decimate the realms of men. No, he told Xara as she stood on that final battlefield, the last of her people around her, that he’d done all of this, had crawled his way out of Enfara for one thing—or, rather, for onebeing. The one entity whose attention he’d so desperately craved, but who’d evaded him for eons.”

Mariah’s blood ran cold as Andrian met her gaze, the glint in his eyes shadowed.

“He wanted the sister of Qhohena, the one who ruled beside her in a moon of glimmering silver. He wanted Zadione.”

The room descended once again into silence, Mariah’s heart pounding in her veins. She’d known Zadione was Qhohena’s sister, but had never once heard her name in reference to the second moon that hung in the sky.

And if Zadione was connected to that silver moon, then it, somehow, meant that …

No. I won’t think of that.

It was Quentin, the conversation finally interesting enough for him to pay attention, who broke the silence next. “Noshit. Zadione?” There was aclinkas he set his bronze dagger on the table. “What happened next?”

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