I eyed her innocently over the toast I was nibbling on. The mess hall was quiet at this time of day, in between the breakfast and lunch rush. Kilian, Syrina and Septimus had run over the plan with me three times before heading to an armory I had never heard of before, but I should have known Septimus would spill his lovestruck guts to Lana. “Coming where?”
Lana smacked the toast from my hand, and it fell to the plate with a clatter. “You are not going to Dorisport without me. That ismyhome.”
“You aren’t coming, Lana.”
“Like hell I’m not. I will be waiting at the scry whether you like it or not. I’m not letting my best friend enter the land of the gods alone.”
“I won’t be alone. And besides, it’s too dangerous.”
“Too dangerous?” Her voice rose in pitch, and I winced. “I’ve just competed in the most dangerous challenges in Tarlor. Fuck that. I’m coming.”
I sighed. I should have known by now that trying to stop Lana from doing anything was impossible. It was easier to give in. “Fine. We’re leaving this evening.”
She pressed a kiss to my cheek, then stood. “I have to get weapons. Speaking of, isn’t it kind of pointless heading to Tuscan without the dagger imbued with Primus’ magic? Don’t you need that to kill him?”
“We’ll have to look for it after the curse is broken. I think Septimus has a new lead. It’s not ideal, but at least if Kilian’s unbound that’s one issue resolved.”
“And explain to me, why does this unbinding have to take place in Tuscan?” Lana asked. “Why can’t you do it here?”
“The powers of the gods are amplified in their homeland. And it’s where the curse was performed. It can only be broken there,” I recited what Kilian had said when I’d asked him the exact same question.
“Right.” Lana sucked on her teeth. “So, we’ll be needing weapons, then.”
“Lots of them.” I pushed away from the table, my toast no longer appetizing. If the gods caught us in Tuscan before I managed to unbind Kilian, Septimus and Syrina, it would be over for all of us. I doubted the gods would take kindly to a renegade pitching up after centuries only to unbind the one who could kill them all.
We could only hope that we managed to slip into Tuscan undetected. I supposed we could try to fight our way out, if it came to that. But truthfully, I didn’t think four elven and an amnesiac goddess stood a chance against eight wrathful deities at full strength.
It was best to be as prepared as possible. Steeling myself for the day ahead, I followed Lana as she led the way to the armory.
The sun had just begun its descent, turning the sky a beautiful shade of peach, when Lana and I stepped into the courtyard. We were both armed to the teeth, an extra bandolier of weapons slung across my hip.
Syrina paced across the courtyard. She looked up when she saw us, her face breaking into a grin.
“You’re cheery,” Lana said to her.
Syrina’s smile grew wider. “I’m going home! I haven’t felt the Tuscan breeze on my face in centuries. And there are so many things I want to paint. So much music I want to create and share with the world. How can I not be excited about that?”
She seemed to not be remembering the threat of egregious bodily harm that the land of the gods posed were we to be discovered.
The door opened behind us and Septimus and Kilian strode out, dressed in full battle armor. Metal dripped from every inch of their bodies and Kilian’s mouth was set in a grim line. He looked like the elven who had taken me from Serila on Augustine. Except this time, I was going into war at his side.
“Are you sure you want to come?” I turned to Lana.
“Yes, Lirah.”
“I tried convincing her not to,” Septimus muttered, but the look he gave Lana was so soft, so loving, it felt like I was intruding on a private moment. “But arguing with Lana is like trying to take on a hurricane.”
The same conclusion I had come to myself earlier that day.
Kilian’s gaze slid to Syrina, who was tinkering with the scry. “Are we all ready?”
I took a quick gulp of the cold air and marched forward. “Ready.”
My fingers linked through Kilian’s and, together, we stepped through the murky smog.
My feet touched smooth, even stone. A loud blare blasted through the air, grating against my eardrums. It sounded like a horn. My eyes roamed around my surroundings, drinking it all in. I had only ever lived on Serila, and now, Lortan. Aside from my brief trip to Greyhaven, I had never been anywhere else in Tarlor.
Dorisport was a coastal town. The scry had spat us out on the edge of a pier, around a large harbor. Rust-covered ships lined the dock, towering above us. Shipping containers were stacked across the length of a massive vessel, and I marveled at their size.
