Page 63 of The Stolen Throne
I clear my throat. “This is an heirloom, passed from my grandmother’s twin to me. Omma, who is Mereneith Evangeline XI, gave it to me on the day of my grandmother’s passing.”
Bene flutters. Not his body or his wings, but the sand he’s made up of undulates.
“Holy damnation,” Pella murmurs. “Is that what I think it is?”
Cain, who is closest, reaches toward it. “You’re telling us you think there’s a—”
I lean over it in a protective reflex, reluctant to let him touch. At the same time, Bene gives a soft snarl, and Cain stops himself, shooting the Devourer a wary glance. “I think there’s a goddess inside it. The Goddess Aryd. Bene heard her. That’s why he’s here.”
Horus immediately drops to his knees, lifting his hands in a gesture used in the temples and in prayer, his expression one of utter awe. The rest of the Wanderers in the room—except the zariph—join him while everyone else stares in varying states of shock.
“Meren,” Vos grumbles. “Someday you’re really going to need to tell us everything up front.”
“I’m never sure when it’s safe to share what I know or even whether what I know is important or not.” It’s the only excuse I can offer.
“Uh-huh.”
I drop to one knee in front of Bene. “Do you feel her?”
Bene walks awkwardly forward with a prowl that reminds me of Reven, but his head bobs like a chicken. He sniffs at the amulet, visibly cautious. Is he afraid she is in there? Or afraid she isn’t? “Is this why you went silent on me, my love? Why you stopped coming to find me?”
The pain in his voice reaches around my heart and digs in. All this time and he still loves her like that? I take the amulet from around my neck and hold it out, resting on my palm. Bene noses the glass.
Nothing happens.
He does it again, and I wait, holding my breath. Still nothing happens. Then he looks up at me. “I cannot feel her.”
That’s a letdown. She was just awake outside. I tell the others what he said. “I…I think she’s asleep again.” Saying that out loud only makes me sound like I’m trying to convince all of us.
The zariph scoffs. “Asleep? She’s not in it. No more discussion of going to—”
“She talks to me sometimes.”
Having moved around Bene to see, Reven’s gaze flashes to mine at that. “Talks to you?”
“Not with words.” At least I don’t think so. Maybe some of my thoughts haven’t been my own? “She pulses or warms. And I think even bolsters my power.”
“When?” Vos asks.
“When I made the portal in the Shadowood. And just now, when I froze Bene.”
The Devourer gives another little growl.
“Only after I promised not to kill you,” I assure him.
The zariph leans forward, lip curling. “You lie.”
I stare him down for a beat before cocking my head. “Can’t you see if I am or not?”
A quietness settles behind his eyes in a way that tells me he doesn’t like that challenge. No glow alerts us to his use of his power, but after a second the bluster blows out of him, his shoulders rounding. “You speak the truth.”
Reven suddenly breathes out through his nose in a sound of pure patience-gathering, and a flutter of a darker emotion hits me in the side, but his voice is controlled when he speaks. “So let me get this straight. If Aryd is in there—and we’re not sure she is—but if she is, you’ve been wearing a goddess around your neck this entire time. One who shares her power with you.”
Before I can answer, he runs a hand over his face, the scratch of his stubble against his skin loud in our bubble. “What am I saying? This is you. Of course you do.”
“I should have told you—”
“You should have told all of us,” the zariph cuts me off. “And this still proves nothing.”
