Page 204 of Flame and Sparrow

“Yes,” he whispered back, brushing a kiss across my knuckles, his eyes never leaving mine. “And there is the missing piece.”

Chapter53

Dravyn heldmy hand as we walked down the stairs together, and he didn’t let go of it even as we entered the room filled with ill-tempered divine beings all bracing themselves for battle.

Several haughty looks turned our direction—more than one narrowing on his large hand eclipsing mine—but still he held on to me. A light, barely-there grip. Unconscious, almost.

But it felt like a statement being made: We were descending into whatever hell awaited us together, and that was how we intended to finish things.

I kept my head up and took in the faces all around me, refusing to cower no matter how hard they glared.

I recognized most of the gods by this point, though not the Miratar spirits who accompanied some of them; these spirits rarely left their Marr’s respective territories, I’d come to realize—but apparently this meeting had been deemed important enough that they’d come along. I hoped this was a sign that the other courts were taking the threat we faced seriously.

Aside from Valas and Mairu, the God of Storms was also here, as were the Star and Sky Goddesses who belonged to Halar’s same court—though the Sun Court goddesses only loomed in the background, stoic and beautiful against the wall, watching me closely through narrowed eyes but not speaking.

Of the Stone Court, the Ocean Marr, Kelas, had come alongside Armaros, the God of Healing. They greeted me with cordial, if unfriendly, nods. The servant spirit at Armaros’s side also greeted me. Her willowy body, and her hair made of white feathers, looked vaguely familiar—like perhaps I’d dreamed of her when the Marr she served had been treating my broken arm.

I felt something like peace as I stared into her pale pink eyes, and it was a long time before I managed to pry my gaze away and look back to the small army of gods surrounding me.

There had been more of these gods staring me down the last time I’d descended into this room—almost all of the middle-gods and goddesses had come to see me fail the Star Goddess’s trial, but fewer seemed interested in helping to win this battle I’d come to warn them about.

Zachar was not here, either; he’d gone to seek an audience with the upper-god their court served, according to Valas, though he didn’t elaborate on the reasons why; we were interrupted by prying eyes before he could.

The rest of the missing Marr, I chose not to focus on. There was already more than enough power in this room to be intimidated by, anyway.

Determined not to give myself a chance to feel that intimidation, I did what I always did when I needed to focus and keep moving forward—I broke the task into pieces, individual patterns and parts that I could lay out relatively plainly for my audience.

Dravyn had made sure to have paper and drawing utensils on hand for me to use. Without any fanfare, I took these and went to work mapping out the realms as I’d seen them; the veil and the mortal areas surrounding it, the paths I’d walked between all these places. I told the gods everything I could about the threat approaching their realm. My theories, my fears—even, to some extent—my own mistakes.

It filled me with a strange combination of power and vulnerability, to speak so extensively before these terrifying beings.

Restless magical energy filled the air as I spoke, followed soon by mutterings and mumblings and more than one of the Marr acting as if they planned to leave. But I was not interrupted during my explanations or sketching—likely because of the way all three of the present Shade Court members had gathered around me, glaring daggers at anyone who became too intrusive.

It was the loyalty I’d developed toward that court that kept my hands drawing and my words flowing, determined as I was to protect this realm for their sake, even if the other courts never accepted me.

“We clearly need to investigate more thoroughly,” Dravyn said, conclusively, as I laid down my drawing materials and took a step away from the center of attention. “But with caution. Until we can determine exactly how damaged the protective layers between our realms are, we don’t know what scale of attack they might try to launch.”

“Why so much concern about beingcautious?” Halar sneered. “For all their posturing and rebellious warmongering, the Velkyn are mere mortals now, their powers diminished far beyond what they once were. Why should we—their new gods—fear them, whatever their numbers?”

“They don’t see you as their new gods, I assure you,” Dravyn said in a deadpan tone. “Have you not been paying attention? They’ve managed to drain all of Zachar’s magic with their poisons already. You’ve already lost one servant to that same poison; are you suggesting we sacrifice more in the name of putting on an arrogant display of power?”

Halar scowled, the air turning electric with his displeasure.

The goddesses of his court shifted from their place against the wall, the Goddess of Sky lifting her hand and giving a slight flex of her fingers. The air all around the God of Storms flashed full of turquoise-colored symbols for an instant, and the uncomfortable static in the air lessened.

I stared at the goddess, at her sharp, intelligent eyes that were the same bright color as the magic she’d just summoned. I was not familiar with her power, beyond knowing that the humans prayed to her for protection, shields against all manner of disasters and ailments…but whatever she’d done, it seemed to irk the Storm God yet calm his irritated power at the same time.

The room fell silent for several long, tension-filled moments.

“We could simply wipe them out with a mass-scale attack of our own,” the God of the Ocean suggested. “Hard and fast, like a wave breaking over them and dragging them off their feet. If we flex the full extent of our power, then their numbers will matter little. It will be over too quickly for them to counter, regardless of whatever tricks they’ve devised.”

There were quiet mumbles of agreement from nearly everyone aside from the Marr of the Shade Court.

“The sort of attack you’re suggesting would be catastrophic to more than just our targeted enemies,” Dravyn said.

The Storm Marr—unsurprisingly—disagreed with this concern. “Of the ones present, you know best about how effective wiping out entire cities worth of elves at a time can be, don’t you? I seem to recall a story or two about you slaughtering them without hesitation in the past.”

Dravyn didn’t respond to the baiting commentary, though his eyes did flash briefly to a dark, fiery shade of red as he turned them on Halar.

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