Chapter 95

There were a lot of ‘I don’t knows’ in this plan.

I didn’t know how much control I really had over shaping mana on that scale. I didn’t know how much extra mana Elise could generate by destroying the Faith that had seeped into Ashlara, Mirri, Serah, and herself. I didn’t even know how much Faith was in them, And I definitely didn’t know whether the whole idea would collapse the moment we tried it.

Still, we were going to try. Tomorrow night.

My thinking was that the hordes of the Iron Nation would be less likely to notice what we were doing under cover of darkness - and less likely to interpret it as a challenge worth marching on.

We explained the basic outline of the plan to the kids and told Torvek he’d be in charge while we were gone. After that, I sat down with the ferals and tried to impress upon them just how important it was that they behave and not cause trouble. That conversation came with its own collection of ‘I don’t knows’.

But the plans were made.

Eventually we got ready for bed, leaving the ferals to their first unsupervised night.

Well… their second, technically. The first one had ended in tragedy, back when they were infants.

We tucked everyone in - including the ferals. Serah sat with them and read a story while Mirri moved from bed to bed, kissing each forehead. Ashlara stood in the corner with her arms crossed, watching quietly.

What she was thinking, I had no idea.

Once the children settled, the adults turned in as well. I lay down between three beautiful women who curled around me with warmth and affection.

It should have been heaven. But sleep wouldn’t come.

When their breathing deepened and I was certain they were asleep, I slipped out of bed and stepped onto the balcony above the entry way. I checked on each of the children as I made my rounds.

It occurred to me that we might need more rooms soon. All six ferals were still sharing the room we’d used the night they were born. We had six other empty rooms, but using them would leave us without any spare space.

The attic might work. The basement existed too, though the idea of putting them underground felt wrong. I didn’t want their rooms to feel like cells.

The other option was building something new. A tower, maybe. Or an entire new wing. Something to talk about later.

I stepped outside and walked slowly across the bailey.

Spring was creeping in - the air hovered around forty degrees. The sky above was clear, the moon nearing its new phase. Only a few of its scattered children - the fractured asteroids trailing behind it - glimmered faintly, the rest hidden in shadow.

The moon’s pale green glow was faint tonight. But the red and blue band stretching across the sky made up for it.

It looked like the pictures I’d seen of the Milky Way back home - except this one burned crimson at the center, fading to deep blue along its edges. It rarely rose more than thirty degrees above the horizon, but from the mountains the view was unobstructed. And breathtaking.

I climbed the watchtower and settled on the low stone wall, letting the quiet wash over me while the world slept.

My mind, unfortunately, did not. The war. The ferals. Urzan-Brek’s ****. The fact that half the gods in existence seemed convinced I’d murdered him.

I understood why Elyndra hadn’t shown up at the meeting with the High Witan. The lying bitch didn’t want to deal with whatever fallout her plan created.

But only nine seats had been filled. Where was Lunythera?

My thoughts were interrupted by a sudden flash of unfamiliar Faith.

A second later the air crackled with light - sparks dancing like an arc welder biting into steel.

I was on my feet instantly.

A long bare leg stepped into existence first, emerging from a portal of swirling sparks. Then a curved torso followed, a delicate arm, the other leg, and finally the rest of the woman.

She stood before me fully formed. Striking.

A steel corset pushed up a generous bust while her hips flared just enough to draw the eye before narrowing into impossibly long legs. Her lips were painted deep red, her eyelids shaded violet, and her long red hair was braided high atop her head before cascading down her back.

She carried herself with the unmistakable confidence of someone who enjoyed being in control - dominatrix energy, even if the outfit didn’t quite go that far.

I reached out and summoned Adhaneth. Black lightning cracked from the floor accompanied by a shrill chorus of violin strings. The staff formed in my hand, though I kept the tip resting calmly on the stone rather than raising it.

“Cute trick,” the woman said. She stretched languidly, deliberately drawing attention to every curve of her body. “I’d heard you wielded a legend. Though I’ve never seen… her before. I’ve heard the weapon’s a she.”

“You have me at a disadvantage,” I said. “You clearly know who I am, but I’ve got no clue who you are.”

She smiled slowly.

“Oh, I love a man at a disadvantage,” she purred. “Under normal circumstances I might be offended you didn’t recognize me. But I’ll make an exception for you, handsome.”

She gave a small, theatrical bow. “I am Zelmyra. The Burning Confession.”

“Burning Confession?” I tilted my head. “So… goddess of lust or something?”

“Or something.” She leaned against one of the pillars supporting the tower roof, arching her back slightly as she ran a hand along the stone. Then she smirked. “I am the goddess of truth through pain.”

“Ah,” I said. “Goddess of ****. Got it.”

Her smile widened.

“So,” I continued, “what do you want?”

“Me?” she said lightly. “I want the truth.”

“You can have that without the ****,” I replied. “I’m really not into pain.”

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right top,” she teased.

“Possible,” I said. “But I’m not shopping. So keep it in your pants and ask your question.”

She pouted dramatically. “You’re no fun.”

I stared at her, completely deadpan.

She sighed. “Fine,” she said. “You win. No ****. No fun. Honestly, you’re worse than Aurelion.” She glanced at me, clearly hoping to get a reaction.

I didn’t give her one.

After a moment she shrugged. “Very well. Did you kill Urzan-Brek?”

I sighed. “No matter how many times people ask me that question, the answer doesn’t change,” I said. “No. I didn’t kill him. I had nothing to do with his ****. I’m just trying to deal with the fallout and keep the world from falling apart.”

“Do you know where Vaelis is?” she asked.

“I don’t even know who that is.”

“What about Athryx?”

“Nope.”

“Lunythera?”

“That one I’ve heard of,” I said. “No idea where she is. Haven’t seen her in weeks.”

Zelmyra clicked her tongue. “Figures you’d only know the Witan.”

“I take it you’re not with them.”

“Hell no,” she laughed. “They sit around playing mind games with each other while pretending they’re above everything. I prefer a more… active relationship with the world.”

“So you’re one of the God-Kings?” I asked.

“There’s more in this world than Witan and Kings,” she said with a sly smile. “But yes, I allied myself with the Kings. I deserve to be worshiped. Served. Obeyed.” Her eyes turned hard as her voice grew dark on the last word.

“Sure,” I replied. “Whatever you say.”

She didn’t seem offended.

“So you think I killed Urzan-Brek, Lunythera, Vaelis, and whoever Athryx is?” I asked. “I know the Witan tried to pin Brek on me. But why the others? Their Faith isn’t running wild.”

“You’re right,” she said. “Their Will hasn’t broken.”

“Then what?”

“I can’t find them,” she replied. “No one can.”

I frowned.

Her voice took on a serious note. “That means they’re either hiding… or trapped.” Then it returned to the playful, sultry tone she’d been using. “And since you’re the big, bad wolf making the Witan nervous, you’re the first place I came looking.”

“If they’re so scared,” I asked, “why aren’t you?”

Zelmyra laughed. Not seductive this time. Not manipulative. Just amused. “Because, godling,” she said, “there is absolutely nothing you could do to break me.”

She began counting casually on her fingers. “Stab me. Drown me. Chain me up. Drop me in lava. Lock me in darkness. Make me listen to terrible poetry.” Her smile sharpened. “I enjoy it.”

She stepped closer. “When the world finally ends,” she said softly, “I will be the last one standing.” Her eyes gleamed with a strange, hungry light. “Because only then… will pain finally cease.”

* * *

“Got it,” I said. “You’re not scared of me because you like pain. Guess that makes you a physical-pain kinda girl while Yveth’s more the emotional-pain type.”

Zelmyra smirked.

“So tell me about Vaelis and Athryx,” I went on. “Who are they, and why are you looking for them?”

“Why should I tell you?” she asked lightly. “What do I get out of it?”

I rolled my eyes. “This is the problem with you God-Kings. A little charity, some PR work, and you might actually make a few friends.” I gave her a flat look. “I gave you information. You give me some. That’s how this works. Unless you only came to ask those three questions and run off to play Nancy Drew on your own.”

“I didn’t understand half of what you just said,” she purred, “but how about a pretty please and I’ll tell you?”

She started toward me, hips swaying.

“Will you pretty please tell me about Vaelis and Athryx?” I asked, my voice dripping with exaggerated desperation.

She chuckled, the motion setting her shelf of tit-flesh shaking. “Since you asked so nicely. Vaelis is the goddess of hearsay. She’s an independent as far as gods go. Doesn’t play well with either side.”

“So why did you want to talk to her?”

Zelmyra smiled slowly. “Why, to talk about you, handsome. Everyone’s talking about you. And she’s the best place to hear the juiciest gossip.”

“Figures.” I folded my arms. “What about Athryx?”

“He’s the god of money,” she said. “I needed to repay a loan.” She shrugged as if it were nothing, which only convinced me it wasn’t.

“And Lunythera?” I asked. “Didn’t think the Witan and the God-Kings mingled much.”

“Just because we belong to different clubs doesn’t mean we can’t get along,” she purred. “Luny and I get along wonderfully. We have sleepovers and do each other’s hair…”

“Sure,” I said dryly. “Pillow fights and make-out sessions. All the classic teen-girl stuff. If you don’t want to answer, just say so. No need to waste my time.”

I sighed. “So Vaelis, Athryx, and Lunythera are all missing. Did you check with Elyndra? She’s the one who tried to pin Brek’s **** on me.”

“I heard,” Zelmyra said, “but I couldn’t find her either.”

“Aurelion said she witnessed me do it, then excused herself from the trial.”

“Strange,” she mused. “Considering she was the goddess of revealed truth, don’t you think?” Her eyes glimmered. “Why would the goddess of truth lie?”

“To protect her plan,” I said. “I just don’t know what that plan is.”

She smirked. “You really don’t understand how this works, do you, godling? Elyndra can’t lie. She can omit things, but she literally can’t lie. Just like Nyssira can’t tell a whole truth. Gods are bound by their Faith. We can’t fight it. Pyraeth can’t allow the weak to rule. Aurelion can’t reject legitimate authority. Anura can’t protect prey. Miralis can’t willingly cause catastrophe.”

I frowned. “That’s a weird way to describe Miralis. Isn’t she the goddess of protection?”

Zelmyra snorted and doubled over laughing. “Is that what she told you?”

She wiped tears from her eyes. “That bitch is anything but protection.”

“Then what is she the goddess of?”

“That,” Zelmyra said, her gaze sharpening, “is a different topic. With a different price.”

“Another pretty please?”

“It’ll take a little more than that.” Her smile turned predatory. “So far we’ve been trading rumors. I came here for truths.”

“I’ve been telling the truth,” I said. “I assumed you were too.”

“As I said, we’re bound by our Faith. I can’t accept voluntary truths, and I can’t reveal truth without pain.”

“So you’ve been lying to me.”

“No,” she purred. “But I haven’t been entirely honest. I propose pain for pain. That way we both get the truths we want.”

I laughed. “I told you from the start I wasn’t letting you **** me.”

“I think you misunderstand.” She sauntered closer. “I’m merely suggesting that you inflict some pain on me, and I inflict some on you. Nothing serious. And I’m sure we can find a way that we both enjoy.” She stopped inches from me, her nose nearly touching mine. Her breath smelled of hot metal.

I grabbed her braid, looped it twice around my hand, and yanked. Her head snapped back as I spun her off balance. “Is this what you want?” I murmured, my lips nearly brushing hers.

“Oh, yes,” she breathed, pupils wide with excitement.

“Too bad.” I gave her braid another sharp pull and let go.

She tumbled off the tower.

I stepped back before she hit the ground. Pretty sure it wouldn’t kill her, but didn’t feel like watching the landing.

A burst of sparks flared beside me, and Zelmyra stepped back onto the tower as if nothing had happened.

She laughed softly. “You are a naughty one,” she purred. “I thought we were going to have fun.”

“I’m good where I am,” I said evenly. “I don’t need more crazy in my life.” I met her gaze. “Your turn.”

She sauntered forward again. With a crackle of sparks, a red-hot brand appeared in her hand. She drove it straight into my side.

I hissed as it punched through cloth and burned into flesh. The smell of cooked meat hit my nose. I grabbed her wrist and tore the iron free.

She bit her lip. “Say it again,” she whispered. “Did you kill Urzan-Brek?”

I clenched my teeth, one hand pressed to the wound. “No,” I growled. “I had nothing to do with it. What is Miralis the god of?”

The brand crumbled into sparks as she released it. Her other hand reached to caress my face.

I caught her wrist before she could touch me.

She leaned close, lips almost brushing mine. “Preventing the worst outcome,” she whispered. Then she stepped back. “And you really have no idea where Vaelis, Athryx, or Lunythera are?”

“No clue,” I said. “What are they actually gods of?”

Her eyes sparkled. “Vaelis is the goddess of rumor and scandal. Athryx the god of wealth and debt. And Lunythera the goddess of the moon and guidance in the dark.”

She placed a hand over her chest as if steadying her heart. “Why does Elyndra want you dead?”

“I have no fucking clue,” I said. “If I had to guess? The High Witan think they made me and they can’t control me.”

“That’s not why she wants to destroy you,” Zelmyra said quietly. “That might be why the others do.” She tilted her head. “What did you do to her?”

I smiled. “I’ll give you a freebie and count that as the same question. I’ll expect the same from you if I slip up.”

“To answer your question, the only time I spoke to her alone,” I said, “she asked how I killed a Myrddin and warned me I’d end a war. When I met the Witan the first time, I lost my temper. She diffused the situation. I’ve never had a bad interaction with her. Granted, I’ve only seen her twice.”

Zelmyra watched me carefully.

“Is there anyone among the God-Kings who wants me dead?” I asked. “Besides Pyraeth.”

She thought for a moment, chewing on the tip of her finger before slowly meeting my eyes. Then she started sucking on it seductively. “Nahl, maygbe,” she said.

“Who the fuck is Nahl?”

She smirked. “Here’s your freebie, as you called it. Nahl is the Hungry Mother, but she’s… indisposed at the moment.”

“Mother Hunger’s name is Nahl?” I muttered. “Good to know if she tries to eat me again.”

Zelmyra’s smile widened. “I only have one more question,” she said. Her voice dropped, low and inviting. “Will you help me find the missing gods?”

I already knew the answer to my next question, but I asked it anyway.

Before I spoke, I opened my mind to my Faith-scape and looked at her properly. Her beacon blazed like a miniature sun. A core of searing white burned at its center, so bright it hurt to look at. Soft ribbons of rose light wrapped around it like strands of silk drifting in slow motion. Through it all flickered violent flashes of red—sparks snapping outward like iron struck beneath a forge hammer.

I closed the vision and returned to the moment. “Yes,” I said. “How can I contact you?”

Zelmyra smirked. “I’ll be around,” she purred. “I’ll find you, handsome.”

Then she turned and vanished in a brief shower of sparks, the air hissing where she’d stood a moment before.