Page 42 of The Oracle of Dusk

As if on cue, a dark fissure ran up the length of the spire. The ominous, thundering crack met their ears a moment later. Gravity, aided by the genius of some of Aureum’s best engineers, finished it off. Collapsing in on itself and showering the surrounding area in rubble, a cloud of snow, dirt and debris shrouded the spire’s newly anointed graveyard.

“And what of the survivors?”

“Conveniently unrecoverable. Those who refused to talk were left as bodies to be found. The rest are on their way to the dungeons. Take your most trusted soldiers and make sure everyone knows you’re searching the rubble for survivors. The spire was looted in the initial assault, but if you find anything interesting, bring it back. Either way, we’ll have proof of Orithyia’s chicanery. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some new bit of sinister magic she’s concocted to use against her.”

“And if neither the prisoners, loot, nor the rubble proves fruitful?”

“Then at the very least we’ll have cured the source of the blight and restored the rivers. My pleas to the spirits and tangible gods might finally be heard.”

Batea hummed, pensive as the city roused to the sight of the fallen spire.

“There’s always some shadowy trick with the high priestess. Schemes within schemes. Are you certain you know which games she’s playing?”

Theron scoffed.

“You don’t trust your cousin?”

“I trust you’re as ruthless as you ought to be, but you’re still a king, and you have honour. The woman we’re fighting is shameless, bold, grasping, and has some sway over the monarchs of the other realms. She has Viridis at her beck and call. I wonder if it would be simpler to stick a dagger in her heart and be done with it.”

“And risk the wrath of a goddess?”

The goddess, Knowledge, had chosen the vile woman to serve Her, and given her divine magic and protection. No matter her sins, only the other two high priestesses, or those chosen by the goddesses, the avatars, could safely dispose of Orithyia.

“Better to risk a few souls than to bend the knee to Viridis—to Orithyia.”

“When we have our proof, either through testimonies, magical objects, or the sudden end to the blight, we’ll have enough to make the High Priestesses Myrina and Nerio act. I cannot risk a war—and the wrath of a goddess—when our people have been hungry for the better part of a year.”

The blight had killed enough crops that his people ate only because of the previous year’s surplus, but even that was dangerously low. Orithyia’s foul magic had devastated the grain-producing region south of the Dragon’s Spine Mountain lake and along its rivers. Even the water in the capital, Altanus, was beginning to sicken the people here. She’d angered the spirits of the land and the tangible gods, and now Aureum suffered.

“That is why we should have declared war the moment that tower was built in our mountains!”

Theron pinched the bridge of his nose. Triad’s tits, they’d had this fight often enough he could recite it from memory. But from the fire in Batea’s eyes, she wouldn’t let it go, even now.

“We would have walked right into her trap. Made ourselves the enemy of the realms, a common foe to unite against. She outplayed us.”

“She continues to outplay us! You think that tower will be the end of it? Niveum has stalled marriage talks since the blight began. Our kingdoms were the closest they’ve ever been to uniting, and now it’s as good as called off. Gilvus won’t even reply to our messages for my marriage talks with the princess, and Roseum is content to wait and watch from behind the Giant’s Jawbone. We should have marched on Viridis while our granaries were full.”

The loss of the Nivean princess had been a bitter thing to swallow. That alliance would have given Aureum access to the crops it needed to feed its growing population in return for ores that Niveum sorely lacked. It would have been enough to stop Orithyia in her tracks. Fitting, then, that she’d perched her bloody spire in the mountains that separated their kingdoms, no doubt using the blight she’d cast on Aureum to frighten the Nivean king into compliance.

“My plan will work.”

It had to work. The other high priestesses weren’t blind. They knew Orithyia’s nature, they tolerated her, but had no real love for her. They even abided by the unwritten rule that the temples were not to usurp the power of monarchs, unlike Orithyia, who was using her power to bolster the land-grabbing ambitions of Viridis’ queen. If he gave Myrina and Nerio all the evidence, they would strike Orithyia down.

“And if it doesn’t?” Batea pressed.

“Then, and only then, will we discuss more drastic steps.”

While he couldn’t touch Orithyia for fear of divine wrath, Flora was another matter. No goddess backed her. Only through her wild magic had she attained her crown, the same as the rest of the Trisian monarchs. And when it came to fearsome magic, Theron could not be defeated—not even by a queen who proclaimed her power to paralyse her foes on the battlefield.

“You had best hope your plan works—and quickly. We’re reaching the point at which our reserves won’t be able to sustain an army on the march.”

Theron smiled. If all else failed, they had one thing neither the temples nor Viridis possessed.

“You mean yourpets.”

Batea returned the grin, all mischief and bloodthirst.

“Yes, well, every woman needs a hobby.”

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