Eighty Dianna

Samkiel rubbed his eyes as Orym went on about some ceremony Veruka had sent him a letter about. Apparently, rulers far and wide had flown to swear their loyalty after what happened in the East. I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. The whole East was gone. When you looked toward the eastern sky, nothing but dust and scattered rock remained.

We had returned to pack everyone up and move them to the new castle, but Orym had pulled us aside the moment we’d arrived. I knew that grim look well, and every little bit of happiness had fled upon seeing it. We had been in this study for hours as Orym and Samkiel discussed what to do next.

I was back to being frustrated. It had been months. We barely had Logan and didn’t know where the others were. Orym said Nismera kept their locations and who they were with under lock and key.

“I hate this.” I sighed loudly, sinking further into the chair. “We are no closer to ridding the world of her, and gods, the second we stop and take a minute to ourselves, the world burns.”

Orym and Samkiel turned toward me, Samkiel’s eyes softening. “Dianna.”

“I know,” I said, sitting up. “I’m being selfish. Half the realm is dust, and my worry is our honeymoon lasted zero point five seconds.”

Orym cleared his throat and stood a bit straighter. “I am sorry to put this on you two just after the ceremony, but—”

Samkiel raised his hand. “Orym, you are fine. We need to know, and we need to plan our next course of action.”

“I have an idea!” I said, raising my hand. “We kill her.”

They looked at me like I’d grown two heads, and I shrugged.

“It’s a terrible plan. I don’t even know if she’s fireproof like you.” I sighed. “But we have to do something. She is still in her seat of power. What’s to stop her from doing what she did in the East to any others that don’t kiss her ass?”

Orym shuffled on his feet as Samkiel leaned across the desk.

“I agree it would be the best course of action if we could achieve it, but Nismera is not just any goddess. She is gifted in battle, fast and ruthless.”

“And I’m not?”

His eyes held a deep warmth. “Akrai, baby, she is a conqueror in the purest form. Alone, she is not easily defeated, but with her army and guards defending her, she is nearly untouchable.”

“He is not wrong,” Orym added, rubbing his chin. “They nicknamed her The Shadow in her death camps. She is far quicker than most goddesses, and they say when she fights, you only see a flash of her silver hair before your body meets death.”

Irritation filled me, and I wiggled in my seat. “Everyone and their stupid nicknames.”

A small snort left Samkiel’s nose, and he leaned back. His hands tapped lightly against the assorted scrolls strewn across the desk. The moon hung behind him, the crescent shape listening in as we plotted.

“I’m not afraid of her,” I said, and I meant it.

“I am well aware.” Samkiel smiled, and I knew he was remembering me running into that damned room for him. “But we have to think rationally when it comes to her. We can’t let emotions direct our actions.”

“You fought her. I saw you two in that blooddream way back when. You held your own, and you’ve helped train me.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “but I barely survived, and I had all my power then. It wasn’t burning in the sky. Plus, you also saw her beat me and nearly take my head off. You’ve kissed the scar that proves it.”

“But you have me now.”

“That I do.” A look of pure contentment crossed his face at my words.

Orym ignored us, but his eyes darted to Samkiel’s throat, looking for the scar.

“Now think of the years I spent locked away, the years she has had time to train and perfect her swordsmanship,” he said. “She will not be easy to dethrone. No matter how strong we are. We have to be smarter.”

An idea formed in my head as I chewed the inside of my lip. “You mean destroy her from the inside out?”

Samkiel’s smile sent a chill down my spine. “Exactly.”