If a distraction was what he wanted, a distraction I would give him, starting with a secret that would literally shake the foundations of his beliefs.
I took a deep breath and held it before exhaling on a rush of words. “I have reason to believe there is—was—more than three gods. And that they created two others before they died.”
Rohak’s head slowly rose from where it was resting against the back of his chair, his emerald eyes were open and alert, clearer than I’d seen in hours.
He regarded me with an unreadable expression, blinking rapidly as he absorbed my statement.
“Say that again,” he said.
“Solace, Kaos, and the Bondsmith aren’t the only gods.”
He nodded his head once. “Right. There’s Fate, too.”
I was already shaking my head before he finished his rebuttal. “Fate’s not really a god. He’s something . . . more. Something outside time and space, outside reality. At least, that’s what this says,” I pulled the old book the Librarian gave me back in Isrun, the cover tattered and disintegrating. Gently, I placed it on the side table between our chairs. Rohak simply bounced his gaze from the decaying journal to my face and back again, blinking rapidly.
“What is that.”
“It’s a journal that the Librarian gave me back before he was killed in Isrun.” Rohak flinched slightly at my statement, clearly remembering how we met so many months ago, but never pulled his eyes from mine. “He said that I would need the informationinside of it. After everything that happened there and then, when we got to Vespera, I never found the time to read the books. But, eventually, it all became too much and I had to”—I left out the part that I drank myself silly because of how Rohak treated me, he didn’t need that stress or guilt right now—“and discovered that it’s a journal. From a lover to a man—god—named Geb. She has a lot of very interesting things to say.”
Rohak sat silently, still unmoving. “Like what?”
“That Kaos and Solace were halves of the same whole. And that there were other gods that represented each of the other powers—all opposite sides of the same coin.”
“Balance,” Rohak murmured, and I nodded my agreement.
“Exactly. One for each power.”
“So where’d they go? And why do Kaos and Solace possess each of those powers now? That shouldn’t be possible . . .” He trailed off, brow furrowed as he attempted to puzzle through the same problem that plagued me for months.
“They’re dead,” I supplied. “Their powers absorbed by the last two remaining gods.”
“But how? That shouldn’t be possible if they’re each a god for truths and lies, right?”
“That’s where this comes into play,” I said, procuring my journal from my belt. I flipped through it, knowing exactly where I’d recorded the information I needed. “The second book the Librarian gave me was a book of prophecies penned by the very first Matriarch to the Keepers.”
Rohak sucked in a breath, his eyebrows reaching his forehead at my admission.
“That knowledge was all lost when we . . . destroyed the Valley.”
“Not all of it,” I said proudly, showing him the passage in my journal. “Here. There are two prophecies that were rather interesting and particularly applicable. One about two rising sotwo others may fall, and another about a mountain cracking and the earth bleeding.”
“It’s like the Librarianwantedyou to put it all together. Like he knew somehow that you would be able to see all the pieces and complete the puzzle,” Rohak said in awe, and my cheeks pinked at his praise.
“I don’t know if I’d go that far . . .” I hedged, and Rohak waved me away with a hand before handing me back my journal.
“There is so much surrounding the Keepers. So many secrets. It’s all becoming convoluted and more intricate the further I fall into the hole,” he muttered, pulling a hand through his hair. “So how does it all connect? What does it mean?”
“Well, according to the First Matriarch, something . . . big would happen once the gods returned to Elyria.” I let my statement hang in the air for a moment, carefully watching Rohak’s expression.
Silence hung between us, and I cleared my throat while shuffling my papers before continuing. “At any rate, the First Matriarch was rather convinced—through no less than two dozen prophecies—that the gods returning to Elyria was the catalyst for something else . . .” I trailed off, unsure how to continue. My conjectures about the First Matriarch’s musings were just that at this point—theories and conclusions drawn from reading her prophecies and the journal supplied by the Librarian.
“What else, Faylinn?”
I bit my lip before answering quietly. “A second Sundering.”
The crackle of the fire was deafeningly loud in the quiet following my statement.
“Excuse me?” Rohak deadpanned.
