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“It draws strength from darkness,” Cas’raneah murmurs, fixed on the slate. “From coldness. Emptiness.”

“From night,” I agree, marking the right side of the diagram with anX. “If there is no night, then Ruin has no fuel.”

“Interesting.” Arthen rubs the roots of his long beard. It hangs nearly to his knees. Used to be to his ankles, before it caught at the forge and ignited. Again.

“It can still feed, though.” Salki turns to Cas’raneah. “Can’t it?”

The goddess meets my gaze. “It would limit Ruin, yes, but not destroy it. Should it escape by some chance, it would need only reach the dark side of the planet to regain its strength.”

“That’s the gods’ problem,” I spit, ruffled by even the slightest push against my genius. “Your army captures it, and we’ll imprison it. Weaken it.”

Cas’raneah purses her lips. “You won’t survive. We’ll ruin this planet.”

“Pun not intended.” Maglon winks.

His humor dies before reaching anyone else. “We were going to leave, regardless,” I say, still chaffing at the idea.

“No.” Salki knits her hands together as though in prayer. “We should stay. If this works, wemuststay. We can’t leave such a prisoner to its own devices.”

Silent agreement spreads through us. “We’ll need help.” I fold my arms tightly across my chest. “The sun will burn out the land. We’ll need something to cool it.”

“We’ll figure that out,” Maglon assures me.

“What if it escapes?” Cas’raneah flexes her long fingers. “What if it finds this machine?”

“Through the amaranthine and the acetic silver? Through perpetual daylight?” I counter, but Cas’raneah only frowns. The longer the war stretches, the more she doubts ... everything. “We build the machine far away,” I offer. “As far from its prison as we can get.”

“Without touching the night?” she counters.

“As far as we can get,” I repeat, because it’s the only answer I have. “And we’ll guard it. Plus the amaranthine. Plus the acetic silver.”

The goddess rubs her arms.

“We’ll do what we can,” I offer. “We can house the machine in a fortress and physically guard it ourselves. We just need something to power it.”

After a long hesitation, she nods. “Do it, then. I’ll sort out the rest.”

The work is merciless. Constantly pumping the bellows at the forge, tinkering, assembling, planning. Little to eat and even less sleep, but the war is nearing its peak, and the universe shudders with it. Ruin will destroy everything, if given the chance.

The machine is enormous. It has to be, to trap a creature one can call a god in its own right. The Serpent cannot leave; its turning, its feeding, keeps the planet rotating. When it leaves, the power of its exit, along with the laws of the universe, will continue Tampere’s rotation. Set it, leaving us no mode to stop it. Which means the Serpent has to stay. We have to imprison it, along with the Devourer. We can fathom no other way. Not in such limited time.

And so we erect the machine. Build it in five pieces, with redundancies, for a single failure could shatter everything. War affords no mistakes.

“And this will do it?” Cas’raneah asks, looking at the half-built monstrosity beneath the light of stars.

Raising a forearm to simulate the planet’s crust, I thrust my opposite hand behind it and clench my fist, mimicking the machine’s underground claw. “Just like this,” I promise. “The drill will do most of the digging. It will be quick, if we can feed it enough power.”

“The planet will stop, and we’ll cage Ruin in the sun.” She sounds unsure, but Cas’raneah seldom thinks in absolutes.

“We need a power source.” Amaranthine is our best bet.

“I know.” The irritation in her voice isn’t directed toward me. We’re all exhausted. “I’ll deliver it soon. A few of the others will help me.”

My hackles rise. “I thought you weren’t telling others about this.” We can’t risk word getting out to Ruin. We haveone chance.

“They’re trustworthy.” She looks heavenward, sudden nostalgia softening her features. “I can’t do it alone. I am not the Well.”

I sigh and nod, though she doesn’t see it. But if a goddess herself is this concerned, I don’t know what chance the rest of us have.