Page 123 of A Sea of Fate and Starfire

Kye had said the palace was empty when they arrived. Incanted, most likely, and left to wait elsewhere. But they were trickling back now, enough maids and servants and guards that I opted for the open sky bridge to take me to the eastern towers, then back through the stone archway to the cliffs.

I could feel them following me, humans and Naiads watching with the same brand of caution and silence we’d just wasted half the day using to watch Pheolix. Just above the water, I aimed my glare at the moon high above us.

She hid like a coward, shadow draped over her like a cloak of night. Just a dim ring in a black sky, barely visible through the strands of sea-spun mist.

“Theia!” My voice shook with unguarded rage, my focus tightening on that hazy sphere. Wind kicked under my skirt, sweeping past my legs. Tiny sparks snapped and popped around my balled fists.

“What are you doing?” Cebrinne hissed.

“Knew I was going to be sent to Perpetuum today,” Leal murmured loudly behind me. “Didn’t think Maren would send me there.”

Brows low, Kye tilted into the nearest rock face, watching unflinchingly.

The dark sky didn’t stir.

“You sent us back to rid the world of Thaan,” I yelled into the empty night. “Guide us! Or watch us fail. If we can’t do it, there will be no beginning.”

Shadows curled around my feet like a cat, snaking up my leg and coiling around my shoulder. Cold dripped down my back like icy fingers against my skin. In my pocket, my stones flared a gentle blue under my skirts.

“What are you doing, sweet wraithling?” the shadow purred, his tendrils whisking and whirring next to my ear.

“Threatening a goddess,” I answered, my eyes hard on the moon. “Want to make a final bargain?”

54

Maren

Theia descended from the sky from steps that materialized from air, her dress moonbeam white and glowing. She wasn’t as lustrous as she’d been in Perpetuum. I wondered if she was always less bright when she left her home in the cosmos, or if hiding in the sun’s shadow stole her light.

Even without that brilliance shining through her pores, she touched a bare foot onto the rock before me, radiant and terrifying, pearlescent dress spilling out behind her in a long train that vanished into the mist. She fixed me with a challenging stare not unlike that of a mother whose child had frayed their patience until it was threadbare.

“Wise mortals would not summon me so,” she asked simply, her voice full enough to reverberate through my head. She cast a chilling glance over the group behind me as if they’d shared in the crime of a dishonorable prayer.

“If you wanted me to fear you, perhaps you shouldn’t have already led me to my death.” I rested my weight firmly in my heels, secretly surprised she’d come.

Dark moon eyes flicked to me. She waited.

“Xeno, Corvus, and Androma.”

“The Triad,” she confirmed, offering nothing other than an elongated neck.

“You gave them gifts.”

Her stare bore into mine, and her mouth barely moved as she said, “The moon gave them immortality. But some curses arrive cloaked as gifts. Would you have me curse you?”

The Scale and Breath of Safiro bit into the center of my fist. “I would have you prepare us for the impossible demand you’ve given us.”

“And how shall I do that?”

“Knowledge.” I motioned to Cebrinne and Kye, who leaned against the rocks, watching with an expression of mild apprehension. “Answer our questions.”

She gazed at me, and I had the inclination she was waiting for me to change my mind. To think better of a poor choice. “Knowledge can plague a soul as much as any trial of the body,” she said slowly, sending her withering stare over to Kye and Cebrinne. “Is this what you desire?”

Still leaning, Kye gave her a slow nod. Cebrinne stepped carefully next to me, hands behind her back as she faced the goddess of future. Theia’s attention settled into her, stoic as a warrior who had found their wounded on the battlefield, unaffected by their impending death. “You have called to ask me for information before. Do you not regret the answer I gave you then?”

Cebrinne’s jaw worked in terse silence. I swallowed the urge to steal a glimpse of my father, to see if he were watching from somewhere behind us.

“No. I do not,” Cebrinne said, soft but firm.