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pain. He continued the massage in silence, and Maisie went on.

“When I first realised I was being manipulated…well, I knew he was a king. What else should I have expected? We’re all just pawns to their kind.” She sighed. “Still felt terrible though, to be used by someone I loved. At least with me…well, I think it was for a good cause. But you…” She gestured in the direction of the Tangatan army. “You think she cares about them? Your Tangata? She certainly doesn’t care about the Anahera. Those kids you helped her capture, they’ll be dead before this ends, mark my words. They’ll live so long as the adults prove useful, but the moment the Anahera fail…”

She trailed off as Adonis stood abruptly, his task with her injured muscles forgotten. His heart beat faster as he returned to the crest of the hill and looked down on the Tangatan camp. Even as he scanned the distant campfires, his mind filled with images, of the Tangatan children lying in the snow, of Nyriah’s pain as she collapsed to the mud, defending him. Adonis owed the Anahera a debt he could never hope to repay. Not unless…

“Oh, that is a bold thought,” Maisie said softly, as though she had read his mind. Rising, she moved to stand alongside him, following his gaze to the distant camp. “But do you have the guts to pull it off, Adonis?”

24

The Queen

Sitting in the parlour of her former chambers, Erika struggled to piece together the warring revelations of the past few days—and the insane political situation she had found in Mildeth. She had arrived in the city expecting a battle, to lead her people in an uprising against the tyrannical Queen Amina, to take back what had been stolen from them.

Instead, she had found someone had beaten her to the punch, that the city had already been conquered—and by no less than the once-incompetent Perfugian recruit she had thought long dead long.

No, not just him, she reminded herself.

There was the Tangata as well, the creature that had partnered with the man, who shared with him the title of Sovereign. Erika clenched her fists, heart racing just at the memory of her unveiling. She should have seen it sooner, likely would have, if not for the sheer shock of seeing the Perfugian recruits alive. Or…perhaps not. Even after learning of the creatures’ intelligence, who would have expected to see one garbed in the fine silks of a Sovereign?

When Darien had shouted his warning, Erika had thought for sure they’d stumbled into a trap, that somehow Maya and her Tangata had infiltrated the city and her followers were about to come swarming from the shadows. The truth, if anything, had been stranger still…

…it seemed not all of the Tangata followed the Old One. Lukys’s…friends might be few enough, but their presence threw fresh complications into the war between their species. Sophia claimed many amongst the Tangata had only ever wanted peace with humanity. Only her own father’s invasion of their land had changed things, forcing them to defend themselves, to fight back.

A shiver ran down Erika’s spine. Could it be true? Could her father have led a genocide? He had called for war in response to raids along the Tangatan frontier, to the slaughter of Calafe innocents. But if Sophia was to be believed, the Tangata had not been responsible for those attacks.

It wasn’t difficult for Erika guess who might have been.

Recalling Amina’s words on the ship, her resolve to prepare humanity for war against the false-gods, Erika felt the truth in her very bones.

Amina was behind it all.

But the Sovereigns were not the only ones who carried grave news. It had saddened Erika to tell Lukys and the other Perfugians of Romaine’s death, to see their pain as they heard how their mentor had fallen, protecting Cara from the queen’s assassin.

But the Romaine’s death still paled in comparison to what else Erika had discovered, the truth about the Anahera, how they had worked together with the Tangata long ago to bring about the Fall of humanity. She had told only Nguyen and the Sovereigns, though she still struggled to think of Lukys as anything but an inexperienced recruit—and the Tangata as anything but the monsters that had stolen her kingdom.

Erika had left them to contemplate her news—and to ponder their revelations herself. Now she could only shake her head as she considered the past, the secrets upon secrets their ancestors had kept from the world.

With a sigh, Erika forced her mind back to the present. The past would have to wait—she was an Archivist no longer, and had responsibilities of her own now, people that looked to her for answers. Glancing across the room, she noticed Cara slumped on the velvet sofa, her wings drawn around herself in a feathery shroud.

Erika’s frown deepened, sensing the change in the young Goddess. The Anahera had been delighted at the sight of Lukys and his little band of Perfugians, but her mood had darkened since. Rising from her armchair, Erika crossed the room and sank onto the couch with the Goddess. Another shiver raised the feathers on Cara’s wings and she gave a muffled sob.

“Cara?” Erika murmured. “What’s wrong?”

The Goddess slowly lowered her wings to reveal her face, flicking Erika a glance. “Nothing…” she muttered, her eyes drifting sideways, taking on a distant look. “I just…I never thought…” The words faded, leaving Erika no closer to deciphering their meaning.

Hesitantly, she reached out and ran her hand down Cara’s wing. “What’s the matter?” she tried again. “Clearly something has you upset.”

Tears shone in Cara’s eyes when she looked at Erika again, and abruptly she rose. Stalking to the window, her wings snapped open, and it seemed she would hurl herself into the sky. But the Goddess paused at the windowsill, and finally her auburn feathers drooped.

Stumbling back to the sofa, she slumped to the floor alongside it and drew her knees up to her chest. “It’s stupid,” she muttered.

Erika

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