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She paled, as if understanding how far I was prepared to go, here, today, with them.
“The grail is gone,” I said to my father. I touched Excalibur. “The sword hangs by my side.”
“And you would destroy it? After all it has done for you?”
I nodded. “It is a part of me. You made sure of that when you killed me to create it. But as long as it exists, you can use it. I will not allow that to happen again.”
I looked between them. “Two down. One to go. Where is the spear?”
Vela exchanged a look with my father, shooting him a small triumphant smile.
“If it’s here, we’ll find it,” Draven declared.
Vela laughed. It was a real laugh this time. “Stupid man. You already found it.”
“What does that mean?” I demanded, my heart sinking.
Vela gave me a knowing, secret smile. “You met it. It died.”
Suddenly, I understood.
“When I found Excalibur,” I said slowly, “the sword wasn’t alone.”
Draven looked at me. “Orcades.”
“She had been trapped in an underwater prison for who knows how long. She never told me why.” I looked at my father. “She was your greatest warrior. Why would you have imprisoned her there?”
My father said nothing.
I thought for a moment. “Unless she was more than a warrior. More than your general. Unless you wielded her like a weapon. Like a spear. Until one day, she refused to be used by you any longer.”
“Was she Devina?” my mate asked, his lips curling in disgust as he looked at Vela and my father. “Did she know she was?”
“She never had Devina’s—what would you call it?” Vela tapped her lips. “Her charm. Or her memories.” She smiled at my father. “You saw to that quite successfully, didn’t you, Perun?”
“She was much more pliant without them,” my father agreed. “Devina had always been so stubborn. Even as Orcades, she was frustratingly unreliable to wield.”
I felt sick inside. So my other aunt was truly gone. Devina. The goddess of the hunt. Not even a vestige of her remained somewhere in Aercanum as it had with Zorya.
“Then your spear is gone, too,” I pointed out. “Orcades died in Camelot.”
My father exchanged a knowing look with Vela.
Instantly, Orcades’s last words poured into my mind.
“Who meets their death devoid of love shall surely face their end. But one who gives their soul away, eternity extends.”
Fuck.
Medra.
CHAPTER 37 - MEDRA
I was flying. Soaring over mountains. I was a bird with golden wings.
A flash of motion far below caught my eyes, and in an instant, I was diving.
The taste of fur and blood. I had caught prey. A mouse.
