Page 16 of The Curse of Gods (The Curse of Saints #3)

She has been through enough.

The thought was a steady refrain in Will’s mind as he stared at the fire while Liam recounted the details of what had been reported in Sitya, and how those reports had ignited an angry mob in the streets of Tala.

She has been through enough.

Aya was stronger than anyone he knew. But after her mother, and Tova…

Even the strongest of people could only take so much. Even the strongest of people eventually broke.

“What does Hyacinth have to say about these rumors?” Will asked as he rubbed at the hinge of his jaw, sore from his clenching.

Liam sighed. “As I said, Hyacinth is desperate to keep the city from descending into hysteria. I doubt she will argue against the news coming out of Sitya.”

“So I’ve kidnapped Aya because I’m partnering with Kakos, but she’s also the Dark Saint and is willingly aiding their cause?”

It made little sense. Though hysteria often had that effect. Will had seen it spread through a crowd faster than fire, and it had been far more destructive than any flame.

“Hyacinth had yet to address the rumors about Aya when I left,” Liam continued. “But I expect some will say you forced her hand, or were responsible for her corruption.”

“A fool’s lie,” Will scoffed. “Gianna had a Diaforaté in her clutches that managed to turn over half of the Dyminara! Even Hyacinth cannot be so disillusioned as to believe—”

“The people are terrified—”

“And so they murder an innocent man?!” Will all but shouted as his anger crested. He chucked his sword across the cave, the blade clanging as it skidded across the rocks. Azul growled and leveled him with an unimpressed look, but Will was too furious to care.

“They point a finger wherever they can find a target, and they forgo reason entirely!”

“The gods are angry,” Liam began to say, but Will flung out a vicious finger to stop him.

“Do not preach to me—”

“Will,” Aidon tried.

“I’m not preaching,” the Persi interrupted as he raised a steadying palm, “I’m telling you what is happening. Something is not right in the realm, and the people can see it. The cold. The rain. The wind .”

The Ventaleh wind had returned to the Malas…isn’t that what the woman in the tavern had said? Will had never put much stock in the legends surrounding the Divine. But one of them rose to mind now, written somewhere in the subconscious of any child who grew up in the kingdom of the devout.

The Ventaleh was a warning from the gods: though the Visya still held kernels of power, the Divine held the ability to cleanse the world.

“The Talan people believe these things to be a sign of the gods’ wrath. It does not excuse what they did.” He held Will’s gaze for a long moment. “But you know exactly what fear does to people.”

Yes, he did. Will had wielded fear as a weapon from the very moment he realized its effectiveness; and he’d done it not just with his affinity, but with his entire being. He’d worn it as a mask for years. Aya had been the only one to ever see through it.

Azul growled again, and Will nearly told the wolf off.

But he caught himself as he realized Azul’s focus wasn’t on him, but on the mouth of the cave.

The wolf’s hackles rose as he stood at attention, his muscles bunched in readiness to attack.

Liam and Aidon drew their swords as Will reached for a knife, his heart hammering as he stared out into the rain.

Let them come , he thought viciously. Let them be an outlet for his rage.

But Azul’s ears twitched once. Twice. And then, as quickly as he’d tensed, the wolf was relaxing. But Will could see nothing but rain. Rain, and darkness, and…

Tyr.

Relief swept through Will at a dizzying speed, his knife clattering to the ground as he stepped toward the wolf.

“Thank the gods,” he murmured. Tyr bowed his head and allowed Will to press a soothing hand between his ears, as if they both knew he needed the contact more than Tyr did.

It lasted only a moment before Tyr was brushing past Liam with a gentle nudge and knocking his snout congenially against Azul’s.

Liam’s mouth twitched in the ghost of a smile, but it faded slowly as he turned his attention back to Will.

“It’s possible Mathias Denier had a hand in this.”

Aidon frowned. “I’m not familiar with the name.”

“Lord of the criminals of Dunmeaden,” Will explained.

“And a silent partner of several gambling halls in the Rouline,” Liam added. “Callias was attacked by some of Mathias’s men. According to Aya, he’d run up a not so insignificant amount of debt at one of Mathias’s establishments. It’s possible Mathias capitalized on the situation at hand.”

“No,” Will shook his head. “Mathias acts only when he is certain he can benefit. Besides, his retribution had already been delivered when he had Callias attacked in his home.”

“Maybe so,” Liam reasoned. “But Aya did not make allies when she forced his hand into giving her an army to rescue you. Perhaps this is his revenge for her manipulation.”

“Do you honestly think he would do such a thing?” Aidon wondered.

“I don’t know,” Liam confessed.

It didn’t matter. Callias was dead. Another person Aya loved had been ripped from the world, and Will could only pray that word did not reach her, wherever she was. Gods, he still yearned to hit something; to dispel some of the fury that continued to build inside of him.

“It would be rather proactive,” Aidon argued. “There’s no trace of Aya. Why kill him now? A contingency in case she suddenly reappears in Tala?”

Will scrubbed a hand across his face. Mathias being involved was about as likely as Aya reappearing in Tala. But if he was…

Will could not afford to not consider every possibility. He could not be caught unaware. Not again.

“If Mathias is in fact out for vengeance, then we may very well be walking into a trap,” he confessed wearily.

“What?” Aidon asked as he pushed himself off the wall. “Why?”

But Liam…Liam simply stared at him for a long moment, his full lips parting with incredulity.

“ That’s why you’re heading to Colmur?” When Will didn’t respond, he shook his head vigorously. “No. You’re fucking kidding me.”

“It’s our only option.”

Liam’s eyes flashed. “Do you remember that night at the Squal?”

“Vividly.”

“She nearly—”

“Apologies,” Aidon interrupted. “But what the hells are we talking about?”

“Not what,” Liam muttered darkly. “Who.”

He shook his head again, a quiet string of curses falling from his lips before they finally formed around a name. “Fucking Dauphine Adair.”