Page 171 of Fate of the Sun King

“Herric had no need of one for himself,” they say. “He had mountains of virulence at his disposal.”

I nod and then ask, “But why didn’t you do something about this?”

“By then, we’d moved on. We had other things to attend to, and you are only a mere speck of dust in the vastness of our existence.”

I make a sound of derision. “Oh, how nice.”

They almost smile again.

“So then what?” I ask, hanging on every word.

“So Zerra sought to find and destroy them. It became her singular focus. She was interested only in saving herself. We had misjudged her desire to do better. Never underestimate how hard old habits die.

“When she realized she couldn’t get to the arks herself, she selected a group of High Fae to help find them.”

“The priestesses,” I say.

“Yes. She created the sisterhood in her image, giving them a form of magic that would help them seek out the arks.” Their mouth presses together. “But she manipulated their devotion, and they quickly spun out of control in their quest. She’d given them too much power, and it poisoned their minds.”

I remember the stories Nadir told me about how the priestesses had carried out horrific acts in her name.

“Oh,” I say.

“She made so many mistakes,” the Empyrium says with a disappointed tone.

“You kind of forced her into this, though, didn’t you?”

That earns me a side-eye, but no further comment.

“And now? Why are you telling me all this?”

“Her time in this role has passed. She has proven herself unworthy and is no longer strong enough to keep the magic under control.”

“So someone else needs to become Zerra?” I ask.

The Empyrium tips their head. “Well, they’d be free to use their own name.”

“Who?” I ask, a sense of foreboding prickling in the abyss of my subconscious.

They turn to face me, and I see the depths of an entire universe in their shifting eyes. The years and worlds and lifetimes beyond this moment.

They are infinite, and I am only a speck of dust tossing about the cosmos.

“Someone with a better heart than hers. Someone who would have fought for her people and who would fight for Ouranos and against the evil that roots deep in its darkest corners. Someone with only the shadow of a crown, long since tarnished by the sins of their ancestors.”

They pause, and the air stills around me, coalescing into a vague destiny that gathers like billows of dark smoke, as they give me a sad smile.

“Perhaps… a queen without a queendom.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

The sway of movement rouses me from unconsciousness. The first indication that something is wrong is the pinch in my shoulders. My hands are tied behind my back, and I’m lying in a way that sends pain radiating down my side.

I blink in rapid succession, trying to dislodge the cobwebs muffling my thoughts.

Where was I? Was that all a dream? Did I really speak with the gods of Ouranos?

Another lurch drags me back to the present. I’m lying in a cart. The sky is blue, and the rain has stopped. Where are we? How long have I been out? Does anyone realize we’re missing?