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off one of his riding gloves. A gauntlet of silver steel was revealed beneath. “You mean this?”

For just a second, the queen’s mask cracked, and Romaine saw the terrible rage simmering beneath the surface. Around him, her guards recoiled, hands tightening on spears and swords, but the king only held up the gauntleted hand. His eyes glinted in the sunlight.

“I’ll admit, it is an interesting trinket.”

“The Archivist had no right to gift it to you. It belongs to me,” the queen hissed through clenched teeth.

“Is that so?” the king mused.

He chuckled, and with his free hand he grasped the gauntlet around his wrist. There was a muffled hiss, as of steam from a kettle, and even in the bright daylight the metal began to glow. Then something went click and he slid the gauntlet from his hand.

“Take it,” he said, tossing it across the open ground. It struck the ground before the queen with a heavy thud. “Its power did not...sit right with me anyway,” he added with a smile.

The queen stared at him for a long moment before turning her eyes to the gauntlet. Romaine swallowed as he glimpsed the greed there. He had seen what that gauntlet was capable of, the power it held. In the span of a second it could reduce grown men to agony, could knock even the Tangata from their feet.

The queen indicated for Yasin to collect the artefact. Eyes never leaving the enemy, the man dismounted and claimed the weapon, then handed it to Amina. She took it reverently, though not without another glance at the king.

Still sitting on his horse, Nguyen spread his hands. “So, we have peace then?”

The queen’s eyes narrowed. “What of the Goddess?” she asked. “She was taken against her will. Flumeer will not stand idle while you assault the personage of the Divine.”

The king chuckled. “I would have thought your Gods better able to protect themselves,” he replied. He waved a hand, as though to dismiss Amina’s concerns. “I will speak with the Goddess, though I believe she has already made arrangements for her future.”

“Liar,” Romaine snapped, the king’s words finally pushing him beyond the bounds of reason. “You took Cara against her will.”

“You must be Romaine.” The king smiled as their eyes met. “Good to finally make your acquaintance. I have heard much of the last soldier of Calafe. Cara was most concerned for your health.”

Romaine was forced to bite back a rude retort as the queen raised her hand. “My army will not be leaving while Her Divine Personage remains your prisoner, Nguyen.”

The king let out a sigh. “Then it seems we are at an impasse.”

Amina’s eyes were hard as stone as she stared him down. “I know the Divine was brought here in chains by the woman who stands beside you, Nguyen,” she grated. A growl rumbled from Romaine’s chest at her words, but the queen went on: “I will not stand for it. Grant the Goddess her freedom by the morrow, or the bloodshed that follows will be on your hands.”

With that, the queen turned her horse and started back towards the camp. For a moment, Romaine sat on his own horse, staring at Erika. The Archivist shrank beneath his gaze, before she finally broke and tugged on her reins, turning away. Shaking his head at her cowardice, Romaine went after the queen.

“—really his daughter?” He caught the queen’s words as he approached.

Riding alongside her, Yasin shrugged. “Was a long time ago, but it could be true. Hair is the right colour.”

“Romaine,” the queen said as he came alongside her, “what do you think?”

“She claimed the same to me on the banks of the Illmoor,” he grunted.

Amina cursed. “Nguyen is no fool. If he says it’s true, more than likely he’s right.”

“Does it change things?” Yasin asked.

The queen did not reply immediately. Her eyes had fallen to the gauntlet she held across her saddle pommel. “What game is he playing, giving it up so easily?” she murmured. Then she shook her head and looked at Yasin, as though finally hearing his question. “No,” she replied. “I don’t believe so.”

“Then I’ll have my men ready by nightfall,” Yasin replied.

“What’s this about?” Romaine asked softly.

“Nguyen has been a step ahead of me since all of this began,” the queen replied, “but no more. This time, I know what he’s planning to do next.”

“How?” Romaine breathed.

“Because it’s what I would do.” A grin spread across the queen’s face. “Are you ready for a rescue mission, Calafe?”

Romaine swallowed, clenching the reins in his fist. “Anything for Cara.”

The queen nodded. Then her eyes returned to the gauntlet, and she held it up to the light. A twitch tugged at her cheek, but then she seemed to steel herself, and in one fluid movement, she slid her hand into the ancient artefact. Light burst from the shimmering links as she clenched her fist.

“Good,” she breathed, “because it’s time we took back the initiative.”

12

The Soldier

Lukys woke to darkness. For a moment he felt panic, that the nightmares of his sleep had somehow followed him to the real world. His heart hammered in his chest and he cried out, fumbling desperately at the black, and was rewarded by slamming his hands into something solid. Pain lanced through his fingers and he cursed, rolling away—

Thump.

The breath hissed from Lukys’s lungs as he toppled off the ledge on which he’d been lying and slammed into the ground. He lay there groaning for a moment, memories slowly returning to him.

After his encounter with the Matriarch, Sophia had led him to the back of the basilica. There an opening hidden behind the dais had revealed a staircase leading down into the earth. Below, they’d discovered a seemingly endless corridor leading away into the depths of the earth, lined by iron doors.

A prison.

Sophia had not spoken as she locked him in his cell, leaving him alone in this awful darkness. Lukys had spent the hours since pondering his fate. Why had Sophia locked him in this

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