“Well, we know where the bastard is; I say we rain hell on Vesitire to tear him from the throne for the last time,” Drystan said resentfully.
“We need the key,” I said. “There’s one more temple here; then we’ll meet back with the others. Your father is no doubt protected by Dusk and Dawn; I need the key before I face them again.”
“They need the key to kill you,” Zephyr said.
“I’ve gathered that,” I said.
“They need a High Celestial to do it, or using it will kill them too.”
The next beat of silence hung heavily. Nyte shifted, ready to block Zephyr’s path to me, as if he might produce the full key right now and lunge for me.
“How do you know that?” Nyte asked, his tone edged with a warning.
Zephyr shifted a pained glance to his children, who watched us talk. Antila clasped her hands to her chest, her wide blue eyes fearful. Raider stood cross-armed, attentive, as though he were part of their battles.
“Take your sister to the dragons,” Zephyr instructed Raider.
“But Father, I want to—”
“Now, son.”
Raider’s jaw worked, but he respected his father’s order.
“I knew it wasn’t her the moment I saw her.” Zephyr’s voice lowered torn and shallow. “Dawn came to the sanctuary and tried to bargain with me. If I kill you, Katerina will live.”
That triggered NyteandDrystan to firm their stance and shuffle closer, almost shielding me.
I didn’t want to believe Zephyr was capable of killing me, but this was his wife, who came above his friendship to me.
“After she left, I planned to retrieve my children and look for you, but then the flood happened,” Zephyr explained. “I don’t know what to do… if Dawn is even telling the truth.”
“She’s not,” Nyte said grimly. His protectiveness of me soured any gentleness for the topic. “Katerina is gone. Her mind could not have survived this long with another’s consciousness implanted within.”
“How can you be certain?” Zephyr said as a plea.
“You either trust me or you don’t. But I warn, the latter doesn’t end well for you if I think for a second you’d side with the gods on a fool’s hope and make an attempt on Astraea’s life.”
Zephyr’s grief-stricken eyes shifted to me. I pushed past the partial blockade of Nyte and Drystan to approach him.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, knowing they were three words that couldn’t add a stitch to the wound he carried from losing Katerina.
“There’s only one way to avenge her then,” Zephyr said, his voice a shell of the joy that once filtered it. “She would want me to help you kill Dawn.”
I reached for him in solace.
“Drystan will take you somewhere safe while Nyte and I complete the last temple,” I said.
Zephyr nodded his agreement.
Nyte rode Eltanin to the temple, and I flew beside them. Landing, I used my magick to clear the snow off the final dragon painting.
I was shocked to find the black painted lines. Yet, unlike Eltanin, this dragon wasn’t feathered. It wasn’t a celestial dragon.
Eltanin roared behind me, and I whirled at his sudden cry. He paced, clearly distressed, and it was frightening to see such a powerful creature this way when he could destroy things with any wrong flick of his wing or tail or step of his giant taloned feet.
“What’s wrong?” I asked with my heart in my throat.
“I’m not sure,” Nyte muttered, closing in protectively beside me.
