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He inclined his head in agreement. “My kind has.”

“Epona is not answering our prayers. Is there no way home?”

Pan pressed his lips together. The fire crackled, and the pot bubbled. Beyond the hide walls, centaurs talked. Were the humans safe? He needed to return to Noah, but he needed the dragon’s safety more. “I have not seen any others of my kind. Nor spoken to them. But if they have suffered the same as me, then they are unable to answer prayers.”

“My patience wears thin. Speak plainly, god.”

Pan drew in a breath. “My connection to magic has been severed.”

The queen blinked several times as if digesting the unwelcome news that her goddess wouldn’t be helping her. “Explain.”

“I cannot use magic. Though I can sense it, which is how I found the witch.”

“And what magic can he do?”

There was a greedy glint in the queen’s eye. Noah was his, and he was not letting a fucking centaur queen take him. “There is very little magic in this world, Your Majesty. As I said before, he can find things that are close by.”

That might be a small lie, but it was the only magic he’d seen Noah do, and he wasn’t even sure Noah considered it magic. “I need to reunite the dragon with her mate, or he will burn what is left of Beita and the human city.”

“And why should I care?” She turned her attention to Beard and ordered him to bring the witch in her own language. “What is the witch’s name?”

“Noah.”

Beard left the tent, leaving them alone. She gave him a cold smile. “Now, give me one of yours.”

Pan sighed. There was no avoiding it, but he tried anyway. “Silas Wilde.”

She grunted. “Pan. Cernunnos. Amun.”

He inclined his head. “That is I. I wish I had better news about Epona.”

“Liar. We have tales of your feud.”

His lips curved. It wasn’t a feud that implied they sought each other out to create trouble. “It is true we are not close, but that is true of many siblings. I do not wish her ill, and I hope that she and the others of my kind are coping with this hideous loss. I do not like walking around with what feels like a gaping maw in my chest. The loss of magic is a wound that I cannot staunch. And I do not wish that on anyone.”

Except for the banished one. He hoped that, now he was mortal, someone seized the opportunity to kill him.

“That I believe. It means the gods are dead and of no use.”

That was a rather hasty and final judgement.

“Lord Feryn still has a use for me.” He lifted his hand to the ring.

“You are merely an emissary.”

She did not need a spear to be brutal, stabbing through his pride like it was already dead. He added it to his list of reasons why he did not like centaurs.

The tent flapped behind him, and Noah dropped to his knees next to him. He was both prickly with an annoyance and delightfully scented with magic from his prayers. It was unfortunate he could not kiss him in front of the queen. That would only fuel her desire to keep Noah.

“So you are the witch,” she said, looking at Noah as though expecting him to understand Tarikian and answer.

Noah glanced at Pan. “What did she say?”

Pan had planned on waiting for the queen to figure it out. Now, he needed to step in. “He does not speak Tarikian.”

Her eyes narrowed, and her tail flicked with annoyance. “How can he be a witch if he does not speak the language of magic?”

“He hasn’t learned. He is born of this world.” And if Noah had been born on Tariko, magic would have flowed through his veins. Would he have survived the collapse? Would he be without magic now?