Chapter 11

Dravyn

I woke up in my bed with no clear memory of falling asleep.

I'd been more tired than I cared to admit, it seemed.

Karys was curled against me, her head resting on my chest. I brushed aside the hair in her face. Just grazing her skin with my fingertips flooded me with fresh desire, warming the space around us and making the dim flames in the fireplace jump.

I halfheartedly tried to force the energy down, but it made no difference; her magic was already responding, simmering to life and intertwining with mine, adding to the heat and light blooming around us. Faint marks appeared on her arms—swirls of black and red that pulsed bright one moment, pale the next.

My marks.

My claim , growled some deep, primal part of me that I didn't particularly like. It sounded like the same monstrous voice that I'd battled as a younger god. A violent voice I thought I'd gotten rid of—but now it was back. It had been coming back more and more frequently ever since I'd let myself fall for the one sleeping beside me now. And it was insistent, trying to convince me that violence and bloodshed were the only solutions when it came to keeping her safe.

A sliver of the brighter firelight caught on the edge of her jaw and throat, illuminating the old burn scars covering those spots. My gaze lingered for a moment on them, then dropped to her chest, still as bare as mine.

Even though she was pulled against me in such a way that most of her was covered, I could still see the top of the newer scar that ran alongside her heart.

I had to turn away again at this point, to put more space between us—not because I was fighting a desire to claim her, but rather to murder someone on her behalf.

The room was heating to the point that even I was starting to sweat.

Moth, who rested on the perch I'd built for him by the window, lifted his head and gave me an uncertain look. His ears drooped, his tail was tucked, his ruby eyes were wide. Afraid.

I breathed out a long sigh.

I was going to have to get a hold on all these violent cravings. There were too many battles ahead of us—enough to have me running in circles until the end of my days if I didn't stop chasing every vicious urge I had.

I reclined stiffly against the pillows, still close to Karys but not quite touching her; it was easier to think clearly when we weren't touching.

I stared at the ceiling for the better part of the next hour, lost in thought, until I felt a telltale shiver in the air that warned me of approaching power.

Moth hopped from his perch to the windowsill and peered outside, letting out a low, anxious purr.

"Company," I muttered to him.

Expected company, but the feel of magic foreign to my territory still triggered a response, sending more heat rushing from the core of my being to the surface of my skin.

As before, I tried to settle the borderline violent energy, but Karys again must have felt it—or maybe sensed the approaching company herself—because she stirred, reaching for my arm.

"What is it?" she asked softly. She pulled closer to me without opening her eyes, pressing her face into my arm as though she didn't want to see whatever it was.

"The meeting I mentioned last night…the others are arriving."

"Already?"

"We've been asleep for quite some time, I think."

She mumbled in protest but slowly rolled away from me and sat up. She looked disoriented for a brief moment, hair sticking out at odd angles, sheets clutched against her breasts. But then she was on her feet just as quickly, a determined look overtaking her face.

She went to one of the wardrobes in the corner and hesitated only a moment before yanking it open, mumbling to herself as she pawed through the garments inside. Though it was smaller than the wardrobe in her own room, there was still no shortage of things for her to choose from.

Rieta had been excited for the chance to fill all of these closets; she'd been fond of sewing when we lived in Altis. She'd created many of the garments by hand, rejecting all offers of magical help, and Karys had willingly assisted her by drawing up patterns and the like.

Karys draped one of those garments over her arm before disappearing into the adjoining washroom.

She reemerged a few minutes later, fully made over. Her hair was woven into a crown of braids, her eyes bright and fierce in the firelight. The dress she'd chosen was quite simple, falling in tiers that draped longer in the back than the front, its color reminiscent of the shadowy green of a deep forest. It had none of the enchanted embellishments that often featured on the clothing donned by our kind—yet somehow the mortal-styled clothing made her look more like a goddess, not less.

I didn't realize I was staring until she drew to a stop, frowning.

"What's wrong?" she demanded, looking herself up and down. Her hands smoothed invisible creases from the dress, the agitated movements betraying the true nerves she felt about what awaited us outside this room.

"Nothing is wrong," I told her. She didn't look completely reassured, so I added, "Except that seeing you in that dress makes me want to skip this meeting and pull you back into bed."

She smiled a bit at this—that soft, barely-there smile that always drew me to her side without fail. I briefly forgot about the battles waiting for us as I went to her and kissed her forehead, and she curled against my chest with a sigh.

After she stepped away, I left to make myself more presentable as she had done, returning to the bedroom after several minutes to find her standing by the window, her eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Is everything all right?"

She startled at my voice. "Yes. I just thought I saw some sort of shadowy…something." She pressed closer to the window. "A creature of some kind, maybe. One I've caught glimpses of a few times over these past weeks, but never long enough to actually make out what it is."

I started toward the window as well, but froze as a possible explanation occurred to me.

This creature …I wanted to be wrong about what it was, so I hesitated to give my opinion on the matter—and she waved a dismissive hand before I could speak, anyway.

"Never mind," she said quickly. "It's probably just a trick of my tired mind. And either way, it's not as important as the council awaiting us, is it?"

She turned to face me, Moth dangling from her arms. The griffin was nibbling the edges of her clothing and swatting at loose tendrils of her hair, but she was paying him little mind; her eyes were on the door that led downstairs.

I walked over to pry Moth from her arms just as he got his beak around the tip of one of her braids, starting to unravel it in earnest. I dropped him unceremoniously to the floor—ignoring the hiss he gave before catching himself in mid-air, remembering his wings, and streaking toward the open window.

Looking back to Karys, I frowned. "You seem worried about that council."

She didn't disagree, but her expression hardened as though determined not to show any more of that worry. "Whatever this council decides to do about the impending war in the mortal realm," she said, "I want to be a part of it."

I nodded, though her tone made me uneasy. She sounded as though she'd spent the night plotting.

Knowing her, she likely had.

"And if we agree that my sister is at the center of whatever scheme the elves are preparing," she pressed, "then I want to be the one to find her. To confront her."

"…If it comes to that."

"I don't see how it won't."

Truthfully, I didn't, either.

I just didn't want to think about it.

I took her hand, absently tracing her skin with my thumb. "Today we should focus on the bigger picture, I believe. At least for this meeting."

"I am focused on it. My sister just happens to be a part of that bigger picture."

"I don't disagree. But I think it would be wise not to draw attention to your complicated relationship with her. The other Marr will see it as weakness and a potential temptation for betrayal—as evidence that you're clinging to your old loyalties and life."

She pulled her hand from mine. I could sense the frustration simmering inside her—it made her magic burn hotter, made it reach for mine. I fought the temptation to reach back. It wouldn't do us any favors, combining and unleashing our fire before we'd even made it out of the bedroom.

"We can discuss the matter of your sister more fully amongst ourselves later," I offered, attempting to keep the peace. "It will be safer…and probably more productive than any conversation we might have with the others about her."

She looked unsatisfied by this answer. We were interrupted, however, before I could come up with anything more to say; both of us sensed more deities appearing somewhere in the palace below us.

It felt as if everyone was now here.

"Come on," I said, "we shouldn't keep them waiting." I offered her my arm.

She took it without a word, avoiding my gaze as we left the room.

I didn't have much experience with wartime councils and the like from when I was a human prince—I'd been young, and not as interested in conquest and bloodshed as my father and older brother would have liked me to be—but I'd come to the conclusion that the gods played at war in much the same way that so many mortal leaders did.

They sat in their comfortable chairs, eating and drinking, pushing plans around as though it were a game with clear-cut winners and losers, with wooden pawns instead of living, breathing beings.

The game had been underway for an hour already.

At least.

We had taken up residence in the largest of the courtyards scattered around my palace grounds. A fence of fruit trees hedged us in, their scent sickly-sweet. A great black table stretched between us—one I'd personally made, mostly by hand, from a slab cleaved from a large vein of onyx on the edge of my territory.

In the chairs surrounding the table sat six deities from outside of my own court. The Healing and Ocean Marr represented the Stone Court. The Sun Court was here in full, the goddesses of Sky, Star, and Moon all present, along with the Storm God.

Karys and Valas sat to my left, Mairu to my right. Zachar had initially refused to join us, but had shown up several minutes into the meeting without speaking a word to anyone. He now stood a short distance away, leaning against the largest of the trees, his dark shadows gathered around him like a second cloak.

Following the aforementioned hour of bickering and gamesmanship, a tense silence now stretched over our group. I suspected most of those present would have been fine with leaving things in this unsettled silence—they'd shown up and had a discussion, and that was doing enough work for one day, as far as they were concerned.

Before anyone could start any dramatic exits, however, Armaros, the God of Healing, broke the stalemate.

"We've heard all there is to hear about the matter," he said, in his predictably pontifical tone. "We could dissect and discuss the evidence for a millennium, but it won't change any of it. Let us make a decision about our next move; I'm growing weary of this conversation, and more weary, still, of doing nothing while the situation continues to escalate."

"We are meant to watch over human-kind from afar—not to hold their hands through every moment of their existence," Kelas, the God of the Ocean, countered. "I say we let them work it out among themselves."

"The only thing they will work out is a massacre," the Sky Goddess replied, bluntly. "The weapons the Velkyn threaten them with are not natural. They wield an alarming amount of power against our divine energy, if you've forgotten—so even the humans we've blessed with magic will struggle against them, I fear."

"Yes; those weapons they're creating are vile, even by my standards," agreed the God of Storms, sparks flashing in the air around him, accompanying the words.

Karys shifted in her seat. A barely perceptible movement, but I was too aware of her not to notice it. I pretended to sip from the wine-filled chalice I'd yet to actually drink from, letting my gaze slide toward her. Waiting for her to raise an argument in favor of her former allies.

She didn't say a word.

And that concerned me more. It meant she was calculating, continuing whatever plotting she'd started last night.

I had a sudden, desperate urge to bring an end to this meeting.

"The evidence we have isn't sufficient," Mairu said, with a meaningful glance at Armaros. "However much we dissect and discuss it, it doesn't matter if we're working from incomplete information."

The Goddess of Stars looked her direction, her silver eyes flashing with their usual contempt; the two of them rarely got along.

But, to my surprise, Cepheid slowly nodded in agreement with Mairu, adding, "We can't be sure of their numbers. We've collected rumors—nothing more—about what's happening in those so-called Hollowlands and the cities within. There's a haze over these places that makes even my magical sight murky. Unless one of us is willing to venture into the depths for ourselves and see what's happening there, we'll be making any decision blindly."

The words settled darkly over our gathering, like a sudden cloud overtaking the sun. One heavy with an oncoming storm.

Then Karys rose to her feet, her chair scraping over the stone with a sound like a distant crack of thunder.

"I am going to Ederis," she said. Loudly. Clearly. "So I…I will be able to see for myself what is happening underneath that haze."

A horrible silence followed this proclamation. The others all looked to her, and then several of them looked to me as well, assuming I must have been aware that she had planned this trip into the heart of such a dangerous place.

Which was almost certainly what she was hoping they would think—that we'd been scheming this together all along, just waiting for the opportunity to announce it.

I am going to Ederis.

Not I would go or I could go .

She had already made up her mind, likely before this meeting ever started.

And she knew I couldn't— wouldn't —deny her right in front of them. It would be dangerous to let the divine beings around us think that she and I were not on the same team. Either I supported her or I left her vulnerable to their attacks and criticism.

She'd forced my hand.

I was annoyed, but not surprised, even though sometimes I forgot who she'd been before I found her: A dangerous, manipulative rebel who had done whatever she needed to in order to carry out her missions.

She continued speaking before I could calm myself enough to add anything to the conversation—not that I knew what I would say.

"We've already decided it," she told the room with a pointed glance at me. "No one could blend better within an elven stronghold than me." Her eyes stayed on me. Hopeful. Expectant. A bit apologetic, maybe.

I rolled away the weight that had settled on my shoulders and mirrored her decisive tone, trying not to let my irritation show.

"It's true," I said. "She knows their languages, their customs, their mannerisms. There will likely be plenty of faces there that she'll recognize, too. She will be able to navigate their ranks better than any of us could."

"What about the fact that she will be recognized?" Halar wanted to know. "And after what she did during the last battle we fought against the Velkyn, it isn't as though her old friends are going to welcome her in with open arms."

Karys met the Storm God's heated gaze without flinching, though she didn't answer his question.

"My magic can disguise her and make her look like any common elf," Mairu chimed in, as though she'd been a part of the plan all along. Maybe she had been.

I fought the urge to rake my hand across my face in exasperation.

"Her divine power will give her away," argued the Goddess of Sky. "She isn't in control of the new magic inside of her; one wrong move, and she will cause more chaos than this plan of hers could possibly be worth."

Zachar moved toward the table, shadows preceding his steps, sending cold rippling outward. "There are ways to at least partially suppress that, too."

I glared at him, shrugging off a shiver. The crawling down my spine was less from my own discomfort at those damn shadows of his and more from the plan he was suggesting.

His draining magic could temper hers—but at what cost? She would be walking into enemy territory with either potentially out-of-control magic or a subdued version of that magic…

I wasn't sure which would be worse.

I chanced another glance in Karys's direction; the faint glimmer of fear in her eyes suggested the Death God's offer was unexpected to her as well.

She recovered from any trepidation she felt quickly, however, blinking it away and nodding along with Zachar's words as though this, too, had all been a part of her plan. She calmly sat back down. Her performance was convincing. Composed.

It was hard not to be impressed despite my irritation.

The conversation around the table fast returned to bickering, which lasted several minutes before the Goddess of Stars cleared her throat and spoke—an unusually assertive gesture for her, which might have been why she actually managed to quiet everyone enough to be heard.

"The God of the Shade had his reasons for allowing her to ascend, mysterious as they may remain to all of us." She gave Karys a long, hard look. Then her gaze lifted toward the sky, her fingers moving as though she was walking them through a tapestry of stars no one else could see, trying to find some telling constellation or revelation we'd all missed. "Perhaps this is part of a grander plan. She is an interesting pawn, isn't she? One with connections to multiple worlds."

I bristled at the word pawn , though I knew it was accurate. Whatever powers we had, they paled in comparison to the ones above us, and those upper-gods rarely missed an opportunity to remind us of that.

Another few minutes of arguing commenced, but this time it trailed off on its own. A feeling of reluctant resolve overtook our gathering, and no one—not even the God of Storms—offered any more protests against Karys's plan.

"So it's settled, then," said the Healing God, his expression solemn. "We'll allow our fledgling goddess to gather more information from the heart of the Hollowlands before deciding if and how we intervene in the conflicts plaguing Avalinth." The god's golden eyes fixed on Karys. "Remember the divine blood that now flows in your veins," he said. "And do not disappoint us."

Karys sat up straighter. "I won't."

I got to my feet, my gaze shifting toward the marble arch that led out of the garden—a wordless dismissal. No one objected to it. Most disappeared instantly, filling the space with a faint medley of magical energies on their way out.

Soon, only our own court remained in the garden.

Karys stayed in her seat, her hands clenched on the table before her, her head bowed in thought.

I stared at her, unsure where to start. Unsure I trusted myself to start.

After a moment, she lifted her head and glared back at me but said nothing.

Valas rose from his seat, stretching. "I'm sensing a bit of tension in the air."

He moved toward me, but I ignored him, keeping my stare leveled on Karys. Quietly, as calmly as I could manage, I asked, "What were you thinking ?"

"I told you what I was thinking before the meeting started."

I caught a flash of something black and shining at her hands—claws.

She tucked them out of sight, clenching her fists tighter against the table. "I told you I was going to take the opportunity to find my sister if I was presented with it," she said. "And the council needed someone to make a decisive move. It made sense."

"What happened to we'll discuss it later ?"

"I'm saving us some time on that discussion," she said, matter-of-factly, as she stood and stepped away from the table. "The easy part is decided: I'm going. Now we can focus our efforts on how to get me in, how I might be able to best help our cause, and how I will then manage to get back to you and this realm in one piece."

She lifted her chin, daring me to argue. Bits of fire swirled in the air; I wasn't sure which of us had summoned them. Maybe both of us.

"If I have to do this myself, then I will," she said, turning and starting toward the palace.

I grabbed her arm and jerked her to a stop more roughly than I'd meant to—roughly enough that she let out a small gasp before yanking free and spinning furiously around to face me.

Valas started toward us as if to intervene, but Mairu stepped into his path. Zachar stood as he had for most of the morning—keeping his distance without saying a word, his eyes slightly aglow as they tracked our movements.

The three of them lingered at the edges of our conversation, but Karys didn't seem to be paying them any mind; her gaze had not left mine.

"Go on, then," she challenged, "yell at me if you'd like." She gestured to the scraps of flame floating around us. "Set this whole courtyard on fire. Do whatever you need to get it out of your system. But you should know that it doesn't matter what you do...I've made up my mind. I have to go, Dravyn."

"Karys—"

"Please. Understand."

I wanted to take hold of her and shake her until all thoughts of dangerous missions in the mortal realm fell out of her head.

I wanted to wrap her in flames and whisk her away from this garden and all the fallout of the meeting that had taken place here.

In the end, I forced myself to back away from her. I paced restlessly for a moment before returning to the table, gripping my chair for balance.

"I know you would lock me in the towers of your palace indefinitely if you could get away with it." I could feel her stare digging into me as she spoke.

I gripped the back of the chair harder. "That isn't true."

"You can't protect me from everything." Her voice softened a bit toward the end, as if she knew her words would drive deeply and she was trying not to draw blood.

I shook my head, not wanting to dwell on this weakness she'd struck.

Valas and Mairu crept closer, both looking anxious for a resolution. Zachar kept still, leaning against a vine-wrapped wall, but his attention was zeroed in on us, the weight of his stare uncomfortably heavy.

I sighed. I couldn't think of any more arguments—none that would sway Karys, anyway

"We'll go together this time," I said to her, "as you said the other night."

"That sounds like a disaster in the making," Valas interjected.

"He's right," Mairu said. "My magic has limits. I don't know if I can keep a spell around both of you for as long as we'd need to, especially if you're going deep into that elvish territory. We don't know what kind of anti-divine wards they're using there. The simpler—and quicker—we can keep this first mission, the better."

Worse and worse.

I was gripping the chair hard enough at this point that I'm surprised I didn't crack it.

"Fine," I growled. "But even if I don't go all the way into that territory with her, I'm going as close as I can to the perimeter. It will be easier for her magic to transport herself to me, and to someplace in the same realm, than it would be for her to try and make it all the way back to the middle-heavens."

"I'll go as well," Valas offered. "We can both stay close by. Run interference and extraction, if necessary."

Karys considered this plan for a long moment, her gaze occasionally flickering toward me, as if waiting for me to change my mind and go back to arguing.

I wanted to keep arguing—but how could I fight her on this?

She was right. Of course she was right. I could not keep her here knowing that the wars outside of these grounds belonged to her as much as any of us. I didn't want to cage her; I only wanted to keep her safe.

She still looked suspicious. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, hands tucked within—still hiding her claws. She started to speak several times, only to fall silent. Looked around at the little embers still floating in the garden, as though she wasn't sure how they'd gotten there or whether or not it was safe to let them go.

Yes; she'd clearly expected more of a fight.

She'd been fighting her whole life, after all, and we'd been enemies for far longer than we'd been allies.

And then there were the ones she had believed to be her allies. Her sister—among others. Worthless pieces of shit who had betrayed her in so many different ways…

No wonder she didn't trust anyone but herself to carry out her plans.

It stung to realize how far we still had to go. To wonder if we could ever get to a place where we might stop playing these games and truly trust one another. But now was not the time to dwell on that particular challenge we faced.

She finally agreed to my part of the plan with a stiff nod, and there was no going back after this point.

"So," I said, detaching my tone as best I could from the uneasy feelings tumbling in my gut, "we need to figure out how we're going to get her safely inside our target area, and keep her safe."

Zachar moved from his place by the wall and joined Mairu in discussing the particulars of this.

By the time their discussion finished, both had left marks on Karys's skin—powerful, if temporary, shades of their respective magics. Shades that would last longer than the impromptu trinket Mairu had given me during my last visit to the mortal realm.

These borrowed powers would be enough to change Karys's appearance and to keep her own divine magic in check, at least for a little while. She was part of our court, her magic derived from the same ultimate power as both Zachar and Mairu's—so the spells would hold almost as if they were her own.

She would be fine.

I had to make myself believe that, somehow.

The others continued to talk, going over the finer points of the plan. I tried to listen and contribute, but their words quickly became nothing more than empty noise. It didn't matter what they said, or what else we decided to do to keep Karys safe; it didn't change the fact that I had a bad feeling about this.

All of this.

And if something happened to her, I was not sure the world could survive the fires I would unleash upon it.