“What do you want, Phenex?” I asked with a sigh. I set my cup on a flat board between us. Someone had charred the intricate pattern of a chessboard on its surface. “I’m tired of playing games. Tell me what you’re after.”
He settled onto a green mat and poured the same thick, red liquid he’d consumed at his home into a glass. The djinn drank deeply, the purplish shadows beneath his eyes gradually shrinking. He watched the fire as he weighed his thoughts.
“You and she are well-matched,” he finally said.
I rocked back on my tailbone. Kaleal was one of the last beings I ever wanted to be compared to. Her and maybe Geoffrey. “Me and who?”
“Don’t play coy, it doesn’t suit you.” He swirled his glass and drank again. I reached my magic toward the substance, trying to identify it, but the barrier he’d erected around himself stopped my tendrils short. “Kaleal is hiding inside you.” He coughed wryly. “I always knew she’d be back.”
My breath caught and, as if her spoken name had summoned her forth, the God in question slipped out of the shadows to take a front-row seat.
“You know who she is?” I asked.
“Of course I do,” Phenex scoffed as she preened. “But I don’t want to talk about her.”
That’s not quite true, Kaleal purred as my heart sank. He spoke of her as though he knew her, and I badly wanted to know more.
“What would you rather talk about?” I gritted. “You and I aren’t exactly friends.”
“We could be, in another life maybe.” Phenex rolled his neck, and I had the distinct impression that he was alluding to his history with Kaleal. “But, alas, we’re stuck with this existence for now, and there’s a certain person connecting our lives who you need to understand better.”
I frowned, realizing where this was going now. Kaleal’s subtle amusement was tangible. “Geoffrey.”
“Geoffrey,” he repeated, nodding. “He and I have a history. I think it will interest you.”
“Let’s hear it then.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “Regale me.”
“Don’t sound so thrilled.” The djinn pulled one of his knees up and braced his forearm on the bone. “About a year after waging war against the Gods and his perception of their fates, Geoffrey visited my palace. I granted him entry because, I’ll admit, I was curious about the first Hand to rise in two-thousand years. I wanted to know more about the person who destroyed my chances of ever getting my magic back again.”
Phenex had hinted at his relationship with Geoffrey before, but clearly, their ties ran deeper than he’d let on if he’d known the Hand for the better part of seventeen years.
“I’ve developed a reputation similar to that incubus you insist on dragging around everywhere,” the djinn said and my brows rose. “We’re both considered fixers… people who know a little about everyone and everything, using that knowledge to tweak the world as we see fit.”
My tension lingered as I wondered whether Phenex and Ryder had ever crossed paths before. They were both entrepreneurs, both apparently well-established. It seemed strange for them to have not talked at least once in their storied histories.
You worry too much about that poor excuse of a fey, Kaleal scoffed. He’s hardly worth your time.
I don’t give a damn about your bias against incubi, I countered. It wasn’t the first time she’d made her disdain for the race clear. Ryder has done nothing to suggest that he would do anything to hurt me.
But he hasn’t done much to help you, either, Kaleal countered slyly, her words striking a chord. That wasn’t true… was it?
Phenex was oblivious to my inner sparring. “Geoffrey was well aware of who and what I was. He said he didn’t care about any of that. He told me he wanted to talk to someone who may have experienced a few regrets in his life, someone willing to stay out of his way as long as he stayed out of theirs.” Phenex’s canines flashed in the firelight. “I’ve had a few regrets.”
That actually surprised me. Phenex made a point of being decisive, I couldn’t imagine him doing anything that might jeopardize that. I wanted to ask but stopped short at Kaleal’s quiet chiding.
Stay on point, we might learn something important, she whispered.
“What was Geoffrey’s regret?” I asked instead. He eyed me with a blend of interest and… disappointment.
The djinn brushed sand off his leg. “Killing you.” He made it sound so simple, so easy, so absolute. “Or believing he had, rather. He regretted his impulsiveness. He said he wanted to change and become a better person. While I wasn’t sure if he meant it, I listened to him and offered what advice I could. After all, he was willing to extend my autonomy for something as trivial as righting his moral wrongs.”
Moral? Geoffrey had destroyed his own temples and killed two children. He’d ruined the reputation of his church and disrupted the course of the world. This was so far past the minor moral dilemma that Phenex made it out to be.
And everything you’ve ever done was with a soul both pure and innocent? Kaleal asked, chuckling when I recoiled. I truly hated having her in my head.
The djinn lifted a shoulder and drained his glass. “I kept an eye on him over the years. True to his word, he changed. He became in what society’s eyes is considered a better man. He worked toward fixing corruption within the Order, he sent aid to those in need, he corrected inaccuracies, and yes, he also maintained his vision that the Gods were never supposed to rise again.”
I rubbed at my chest, not sure how to interpret the picture he was painting. That didn’t seem like the Geoffrey I’d come to know at all.
But you didn’t get to know him at all, did you? hissed Kaleal.
Who’s side are you on here? I asked, pushing her back when she leaned forward a hair too far. You don’t like him either.
She clicked her tongue but didn’t answer.
“We fell out of touch like people do,” Phenex said. “Of course, the Order and I did business together, but he was rarely involved. I only thought of Geoffrey again when, to my surprise, I saw you on the news ripping his troops to shreds from atop a pillar of water.” His laughter was quicksilver bright. “I’ve seen Gods do many things, a great many things in the rise and fall of civilization. I’d never seen anything like that.”
I curled away from him. No, Phenex was definitely wrong. We could never be friends, not in this life or any others. I had regrets on how I’d handled things that day, even knowing that I’d done what I’d done to protect myself and my friends. But the djinn seemed to savor my destructive behavior, and I couldn’t imagine what other reckless lengths he might push me toward in the name of friendship.
A little recklessness is much more fun, though, wouldn’t you agree? Kaleal asked.
“I tapped into my contacts at the Order to understand what was happening,” Phenex said, adjusting his seat on the mat. “It was complicated, to say the least, and messy. Geoffrey was moving quickly, making decisions at the behest of himself and his second-in-command. Orders got mixed up, commands given that didn’t make sense, and only after you’d vanished off the face of the earth again did a few things come to light.”
This is getting good, Kaleal said, inching forward again, only relenting with a small pout when I shoved her back. Xenith always did appreciate drama.
Hearing that name for the second time almost derailed me, my curiosity fully peaked, but Phenex’s next words snared my attention.
“Geoffrey never wanted you dead. He was still trying to right his wrongs. But his second, a man by the name of Toren Almasi—,” he spat the name like it rotted in his mouth. I wondered at the vehemence, at the sharp jerk of his chest that was the air moving in and out of his lungs. “—wanted you out of the picture. Not only that, he wanted Geoffrey dead. All because of power. He very nearly succeeded if you hadn’t won that battle by the lake, which was nothing short of a miracle.”
My skin prickled. The man at the lake, he’d said his name was Toren.
“How do you know about t
hat battle?” I asked. Joseph hadn’t mentioned seeing anything about it in the newspapers, and surely that would have been information worth reporting.
And what about Toren? Kaleal asked. He speaks of this man strangely.
Phenex’s lips curled and he shrugged. “I make it a point to find out things. Like when I found out you’d killed that useless brat, I must say I very nearly extended an invitation to meet you myself. But then you vanished off the face of the planet, and my hopes were dashed.” His dark eyes slid over me like oil.
“Who is Toren to you?” I blurted, then cupped my hands over my mouth, wondering if Kaleal had pushed me somehow. Even now, the ancient God was pressing forward eagerly, and the delicate control I held over her nearly snapped.
Phenex stared, assessing. “Toren is… his family is a piece of my past that I’d rather forget.” He spoke as if his heart were being ripped from his chest. The djinn scrubbed his wrists so hard I feared he might tear the skin. “Though I do suppose I owe them my freedom.”
Ah, Kaleal whispered, I’d wondered who finally released him from that lamp.
Phenex’s words tripped me up, and I barely heard her. I’d almost forgotten he’d been enslaved once, bound to answer the beck and call of whichever human whose hands he’d happened to fall into. I found myself softening toward him until I remembered his treatment of the nero and the pride he’d radiated admitting he’d devoured his siblings for power.
Power that he’d accused Toren of pursuing as if it were a sin. This fey was such a contradiction.
“How did Toren’s family—”
“I will not speak of Toren again,” Phenex growled, smacking the chessboard so hard my cup tumbled off. “Nor will I speak of the life sentence I neither deserved nor asked for.” He stood and pointed at the campfire, his magic a roar of fury I couldn’t ignore
Fix this, Kaleal snarled as I scrambled up. Fix this now.
“Will you finish what you started?” I held my hands up while forcing my own magic to not respond to the violence of his. “I won’t ask about… him again, and I really want to know what you intended to tell me.”
“Does it matter? This conversation is over.”
“Phenex, please.” It almost killed me to plead. “Don’t send me away yet. Besides,” I closed my eyes wishing I wasn’t about to do what I was going to do, “Kaleal wants to know.”
I stepped back, allowing Kaleal to fall into my place.
What are you doing, she hissed, but it was too late, he’d glimpsed her shining through.
“Well,” he started, then stopped, blinking. If I’d smacked him across the face he wouldn’t have looked more surprised. “In that case.”
“I’m bored with this,” Kaleal said, rubbing her hands together and glancing around as if seeing the tent for the first time. “Why she called me forward, I’ll never know. But I don’t have time for your temper tantrums, never did and never will.”
She turned away when he grabbed her shoulder. “Kaleal—”
“Don’t you dare touch me.” She brushed him off. “You know better than to say that name out here. You grow too bold.”
“You need to be careful,” he said, curling his hands behind his back. His voice wasn’t steady and he couldn’t meet her eye. I’d never seen him so submissive. Whatever history they had, she had clearly held the upper hand. “Geoffrey wants that girl dead. He wants it more badly than he ever wanted anything.”
“How do you know this?” she asked. “And why should I believe it? You always were fond of stories.”
The djinn sighed and scrubbed his face. “You don’t have to believe me, but what that man did in the years after he destroyed the temples, that was enough to convince me,” he said. “Just like I knew he’d changed his skin again when he stopped to see me a week before you conveniently arrived at my doorstep. He knew that Zara, that you, were coming or would be coming at some point anyway, and he wanted my help.”
“How did he know that?” she asked, her tone flaying him wide open. I hadn’t heard so much as a whisper from Geoffrey during my time at Joseph’s camp. Even when we had talked, I was certain I hadn’t let on to my plans.
“He knew you were after the Earth God, or you would be after you found the God of Fire. Since I’m one of the few who knows how to find that ridiculous temple, it was pretty obvious.”
I drew back, wondering if Geoffrey was coming after me right now and if he was, how much time I’d have before he was on me again.
“What you need to know,” the djinn said, leaning in, “is that Geoffrey is no longer the calm, collected man I knew him to be. You need to be careful.”
“I appreciate the warning,” Kaleal said, crossing her arms. “But I already knew that. Don’t waste my time like this again. You can’t intimidate me.”
She thrust me back into my body as she turned to the fire.
That was a clever thing you did, she said, her tone glacial. It reminds me of something I would have done. But if you catch me by surprise again, you won’t like the consequences.
I’m not afraid of you, I argued.
You should be.
Chapter 20
There was something deeply unsettling about being in the near-constant presence of someone who actively hated me. In swimming, I’d met girls who definitely didn’t like me, and there were fey who’d made it clear that my presence irritated them, but Maat’s burning gaze was an itch between my shoulders I couldn’t scratch. When I pointed that out to Joseph, he’d shrugged and said hatred was the price of power.
Despite saying the nero was badly in need of a day off, Phenex had asked Maat—or rather ordered him—to return to the Lost Temple with us. It was officially two days later and I was going crazy from the tension. The only bonus was it diverted my thoughts from my magic, so I’d let it go right until we stopped to set up camp. Phenex had already pushed us farther and harder than he had the entire journey, and the sun was puncturing the horizon.
As I wrestled with the ties holding my tent to the saddle, struggling with one particularly tight knot, someone snickered. Finn nudged me aside and shifted the bag so he could work it out.
“…useless. What kind of God can’t handle her own things?”
My lips drew back. I was sweaty. I was exhausted. I was in pain. And I was done.
“Zara, don’t—”
“Stay out of my way,” I hissed, drawing my knife from its sheath on my thigh, and marched across the sand. Maat had his back to me, but the flame of his hair was unmistakable. I grabbed his arm and whipped him around.
“Wha—” His mouth snapped shut and his chin went up when my dagger tapped his jugular. I clutched him close, our bodies immobile as our eyes waged war.
“I’ve never been particularly good at restraining myself, but I’m pretty damn sure I broke my own record after hearing you snipe about me for two days.” Despite the threat, he seemed remarkably unaffected. Around us, the nero circled, tall and quiet as specters, as if they held a collective breath. “I’ve always believed in confronting my problems head-on, so guess what, here we are. What’s your deal with me?”
The copper disks of his eyes flashed. “You. You’re my problem.” Each word oozed with venom. “Cozying up with Phenex like you don’t know what he’s done. If you actually cared about anyone besides yourself, you would have wiped the desert with the likes of him.”
“Finally, you grew a pair.” The wind caught some of my tangled hair and whipped it between us. Through my teeth, I hissed, “What exactly has he done?”
The muscles in his back rippled under my hand. Maat glanced over my shoulder, no doubt looking at the djinn himself, since I wasn’t picking him up in my periphery. “As if you don’t know.”
“Try me,” I growled.
“Water owes nothing to Earth. It wouldn’t matter anyway.” Our noses and thighs were practically touching. I’d pulled the knife back as he surged forward. I had only intended to incite him, not actually hurt him. “By aligning with the lik
es of him you’ve shown your hand.”
“Funny how you claim Earth now.” I adjusted my fingers on the grip so the symbol of my temple was visible. “Not one of you bears Earth’s mark. It’s not on your clothing or your equipment, it certainly wasn’t anywhere in Phenex’s palace. And none of you bears the badge of loyalty.” I dropped his arm and prodded my neck. Maat’s face clouded. “In fact, if I had to take a guess, and I’m pretty good at guessing games, I’d say your loyalties lie as little with the temple as they do with Phenex himself. Why?”
It may have been my imagination, but an inkling of hostility leached from his body. His brows drew sharply together, and I nudged him back.
“I’m not your enemy if you don’t make me one,” I snapped.
Whatever response he’d been working up was lost when the ground trembled. Someone from the outer rim shouted, “Ramalia nest.”
Maat growled low in his throat, eyes flashing as he turned toward the voice while simultaneously pushing me behind him. One of the nero racing by tossed him a hooked spear with a serrated edge. He swung it in a low circle, scanning the horizon.
“What’s a ramalia?” I asked, stepping around him, trying to figure out what the frantic behavior was all about. Phenex had joined the nero clustered at the north end of camp. Maat glanced at me, his nose wrinkling, then back at his people.
“Sand devils,” he muttered, “some of the nastiest monsters you’ll meet out here. I thought two millennia in hibernation might have killed them off. Guess I was wrong.” He shifted his grip on the staff as the earth bucked again, and tapped me back behind him using the shaft. “How about you stay back there so you don’t get hurt.”
Flames ignited in my belly and I plunged my hand in my pocket snarling. “Seriously? You’re gonna pull that—”
“Your element is water.” He spared me another demeaning glance. “You’re probably the most useless person in this camp next to the kelpie. Leave the fighting for those who know what to do.”
My teeth slammed together so hard I was sure I’d cracked a few when the earth jolted again. Beyond the assembled nero, a fissure formed with a resounding snap. Sun-dried sand rushed over the edges. All was quiet for one second, two, then a dozen dark ribbons rippled over the edges of the crack with a chorus of guttural hissing and spitting that made my stomach turn.
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