“I suppose the mortals will know of this now,” Morgana said, tone inscrutable. “Of us.”
“Not quite yet. . . .”
From the gulf, the sea god Nereus rose up like a mountain himself, visible only to the immortal pair. With a monstrous inhalation, he sucked all the flames into his lungs.
Then he brandished his divine triton, raising it over his head to subdue the waves. The tsunamis paused, their terrible surge arrested in midswell—
Yielding to his command, they gradually subsided, slipping to acquiescence.
The surface was still, the fire defeated. Before Nereus sank to the depths once more, his smoldering gaze lingered on Morgana.
She frowned, but that was the least extraordinary thing she’d seen this day.
A reviled realm—the bane of her entire life—had perished by fire and been entombed in the sea. Her heart was glad.
The Valkyrie soothsayer turned to the sorceress queen. “For better or worse, it’s begun. . . .”
FIFTY-FIVE
1. Portal to Vrekener outpost
2. Adjust directions, portal to outpost
3. Adjust directions again, portal to outpost
4. Offer demon mercenaries gold to scour Canadian forests for difficult-to-find Vrekener outpost
5. Offer witches gold to scry for Thronos
6. Contact Loa, re: Hail Mary option—send gold deposit
7. FIND NÏX
8. Keep from losing your ever-living shit because he needs you
9. Contact oracles and witches in more worlds—offer gold
10. Save up power for tomorrow
“What have I told you about chasing after boys?” Sabine drawled, sashaying into Lanthe’s substitute suite.
Her former residence was still being repaired, nearly a week after the Territories had fallen.
Lanthe glanced up from her desperate letters and lists, allowing Sabine see her panic, her despondency. Both grew with each minute. “Thronos is not a boy—he’s my husband. And I want him back.”
“You look like hell. Would you like me to weave an illusion over you?”
As if Lanthe could be bothered with her appearance—when every other thought in her head was YOU’RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME TO FIND HIM!
How was Thronos dealing with the destruction of his kingdom? How was he coping with his feelings of loss? What if he thought he had nothing to live for and was careless in some battle? What if Cadmus staged a refugee coup?
“You’re pushing yourself far too hard, Lanthe.” Sabine reclined on a nearby divan. “Since when have you been able to create portals so frequently?”
After Lanthe had failed to locate the outpost that first day, she’d reasoned that Nïx had actually been talking about all of Lanthe’s powers behaving like muscles. She’d been able to shave down the time between her portals to once a day, but that was the limit.
Use, use, use, use, use—and no rest? Accuracy . . . suffered.
“You need to dial down the thresholds,” Sabine warned.