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A gleam came to Jax’s dark eyes. In the dim light of the sanctuary, illuminated only by a handful of sconces and the glowing braziers, he looked fiendish. “He seems to have done well for himself. As well as a traitor can, with one eye.”
“He’s not a completely insane religious fanatic who thinks the whole world should be under his rule, so yeah, he’s doing better than you are.”
“Not under my rule,” Jax corrected, though he didn’t touch the religious fanatic part. “I am only His priest, His right hand. Apollius is the one true god, the one true King.” He sighed. “Apollius was able to push aside His vessel for nearly all of our planning. Arceneaux knew nothing of our true purpose, my true identity. But even without that knowledge, he was insistent that we be kept away from Gabriel.”
Trying to protect him. Bastian hadn’t known Caius was Jax, but he’d still wanted the Kirytheans far from Gabe, not wanting him hurt by the constant reminder of his father. The only time they’d been in the same room was that one First Day service, and Lore recalled the brief look of relief that had flickered on Bastian’s face when Gabe left early.
“Was the plan always to marry Alie to you?” Lore asked. “Has Bastian always known she was his half sister?”
Bastian’s name made Jax’s lip curl, but he nodded. “He’s always suspected, yes, but never planned to make the information public. Not unless Alie wanted him to, once she found out. But Apollius thought it could be useful.”
Apollius, who moved humans around like pawns on a board.
“If you hurt her…” Lore didn’t know how to finish the threat. Saying she would kill him felt too tame.
But Jax looked nearly as horrified as he had at the accusation that he’d blown up the ship. “I would never hurt my wife.”
She could still feel the ache in her scalp from where Apollius had pulled her hair, a twinge in her neck from Him bending it to the side. If Jax refused to hurt Alie, it put him on a higher road than his god.
Her head lolled back again, her eyes finding the shadowed ceiling, weariness suddenly weighing out all her care. “Why are you here, Jax? I don’t think Apollius will want company on our wedding night.”
“I’m merely here to support,” he answered.
Lore’s eyes narrowed at the ceiling. That must mean Apollius thought He needed support… because Bastian had broken through, earlier, had fought free of the god’s hold for just a moment.
Her hands drew to fists on her lap. Hope was such a small thing, just a flutter beneath her breastbone, but it was there and she would take it.
In her head, Nyxara was silent and still.
Jax’s eyes flickered to the back of the room, where the door was slowly beginning to creak open. “In fact, here comes your husband now.”
Lore whipped around.
Apollius, still. The dim light hid the details of His face, but the way He moved was nothing like Bastian: all angular and precise, none of Bastian’s casual nonchalance.
Jax bowed as Apollius drew closer; the god waved His hand. There was something in that movement that caught Lore’s eye, shifting that tiny flutter of hope into a spark.
A tremble in His fingers.
“Holy One,” Jax said, looking slightly concerned, “are You sure it must be tonight? If he’s causing problems—”
“Shut up, Jax.”
And Jax did. It was almost funny, seeing the feared leader of the Kirythean Empire so subservient. Looking so worried.
The spark became an ember.
Apollius turned to Lore. And yes, there, even in the flickering light, she could see the war playing out on His face. Bastian, shoved deep inside his own mind, fighting his way to the surface. Giving it everything he had to come back to her.
Nyxara had said to kill him. She’d balked against bonds and incredible pain to do it, to bring Lore that instruction. But as long as there was even a little bit of Bastian left, she couldn’t. She couldn’t.
It took the god a moment to speak, like He had to center Himself first. He closed Bastian’s eyes, opened them again. “Nyxara. It’s time that we talked.”
CHAPTER FORTY
We have learned that death is not a concrete thing, but something that can be manipulated.
—Notes from Hakim Belcar, Malfouran naturalist, 3 AGF
