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“Hyacinth is right, Asrai,” Andrues said, his voice cutting into the silence that lingered between us. “With the soldiers and refugees Dukovich was able to smuggle out of Redelvtum, we still only have a fraction of the army we will need. And, if The Silliands and Ammord truly have the leverage over Redelvtum as it seems, the rest of your soldiers will be on the other side of the fight.”

Asrai’s complexion paled at his words and she closed her eyes, resigned to the truth as she sucked in a deep breath, slowly opening her eyes again.

“We do have another option,” she said, lifting a brow toward Landers. I watched as his muscles went stiff, his knuckles turning white as he fisted his hands.

“No,” Landers snarled, his eyes growing dark as he met her stare.

“What are you talking about?” I snapped, taking a step toward Asrai. “What is the other option?”

Landers’s jaw clenched as Asrai pulled her gaze from him and locked eyes with me.

“We wake the Fallen Ones.”

I froze.

I had read the name only once in the altered versions ofThe StoriesI had access to at the academy, that I now knew I couldn’t trust.

“What does that mean?” I breathed, turning toward Landers. The vein running along his neck pulsed under his tattoo as he dragged a hand over his face. “Who exactly are the Fallen Ones, Landers?”

Landers stared at me for a long moment before answering, something akin to fear flashing behind his hardened eyes. “They are Gods, exiled from Idradora, the Celestial realm.”

Elric and Wren exchanged glances but remained silent as Asrai cut in.

“They were banished from Idradora with their dragons. Their title of ‘God,’ as well as the Higher Magic that came with it, stripped from them and their bloodlines cursed.” Asrai’s tone was cold as the words slipped from her lips. “Those five Gods were turned to stone—cursed to never die and never fully live, only to watch as Nimbria moved on without them. Their children fled from Idradora to the furthest corners of Nimbria, afraid of your grandparents’ vengeance and determined to keep whatever curse was placed upon them secret.”

“Why were they banished?” I asked, my mind racing as I processed the information.

“Because they did not think there should be one God to rule the realms. They wanted each realm to have their own celestial hierarchy, and they wanted to be the ones to rule over them. Your grandparents refused to give up an ounce of power so they exiled them—made them an example to anyone else in Idradora who thought for even a second about going against their wishes.” I could feel the vitriol spewing from Asrai with each word she spoke, the hate she still held for them after all these centuries. “The Gods are not immune to corruption.”

“And their dragons, why were they exiled with them?”

Landers started pacing as he slipped a hand through his raven hair. From across the room, I could see Andrues watching him closely, studying him.

“Because dragons answer to no God outside of who they are bonded to. There are only twelve dragons left in existence that we know of. Nithra and the other four you freed from The Silliands, the two that are bonded to your grandparents, and the five that were turned to stone alongside their masters,” Landers answered.

“And these Gods, are they dangerous?” Wren asked.

“It is impossible to know. This happened over a thousand years ago; we have no way of knowing if they would be willing to help us. No way of knowing that they will not kill us the moment we wake them, which is why we will not be doing it.” The words were daggers as they left Landers’s lips, aimed directly at Asrai.

She smiled softly, unfazed as she turned her attention back to me.

“Ultimately, this is your decision, Hyacinth,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You are the only one who can wake them.”

From the corner of my eye I could see Landers stop pacing, his jaw tightening at her words as a lump formed in my throat.

“How? If I decide that is what I want to do, how would I do it?”

“A God’s blood must be spilled across them, God’s blood still rich with Higher Magic. Then, dragon fire must be used to seal it into their stone tomes.”

“You are forgetting one very important detail, Asrai,” Landers said, his words a low growl. I turned to face him, my eyes locking onto his. “They are in the Blackridge Mountains. They are in The Silliands.”

“Getting a dragon into The Silliands undetected would be nearly impossible,” Elric blurted, his brows furrowing as he looked between Asrai and Landers.

“Unless,” Asrai started slowly, “you have someone with you, practiced in the art of glamouring.”

“You?” I asked, confusion seeping into my question. She was from The Silliands and the ability to glamour came with their Chaos Magic. Or maybe she meant Landers, since he had Marzog blood in his veins.

“No,” Wren said, shaking his head as a small smile crept across his lips. “Dukovich. He is an expert at glamouring.”