Page 51 of The Curse of Gods (The Curse of Saints #3)

This trip to Sitya felt far faster. Perhaps that was because this time, Aya wasn’t hooded and locked in the back of a prisoner wagon. They didn’t yet trust her with her own horse, so she rode behind Evie, but the fresh air felt nice on her face.

At least they hadn’t put her with Lorna. She understood why the Vaguer joined them, but why they’d decided to drag the Saj along, Aya didn’t know. It certainly wasn’t for her own benefit.

She tried not to think of the last time she shared a horse, tried not to remember the feel of Will at her back, or how his warmth had been something anchoring and safe on that journey back from the cave somewhere in the Blood-Red Mountains of Trahir.

Will is dead , she reminded herself firmly. And if he wasn’t, he soon would be by Hyacinth’s orders.

She was glad of it.

Because five thousand Kakos troops now marched toward Sitya.

Aya glanced over her shoulder and took in the lines of soldiers following behind them.

She hadn’t been able to see how far back they stretched as they’d made their way through the mountains, and now, with the thick tree cover of the forest they’d been enclosed in for two days, it was even harder to count them. But she did what she could.

At least five thousand. And that said nothing of the troops Gregor had sent ahead.

King Gregor and Evie remained careful with the information Aya received.

It had been over a week before they left that hells-crafted palace that existed in the gap, and in those days, she’d done little more than eat and try to regain her strength by running shackled through the steep slopes with General Dav at her back.

But this —the size of their army—they could not hide.

Gregor had seen her taking in the rows, ready and waiting at the top of the gap, when they’d left the palace.

“The remainder of our army, save for those in Milsaio,” he’d remarked knowingly. “We’ve sent the first lines ahead to join those stationed in Sitya.”

“Why not send them all?” Aya had asked.

“Nothing destroys the spirit more than giving it hope only for it to be ripped away,” Gregor had responded before steering his horse to the front of their caravan.

He was right, and the thought followed Aya through the mountains and into the dark, dank woods. Even still, it seemed overly dramatic for the king, even for Evie, who loved a statement more than most.

Aya believed he’d sent troops ahead, she even believed he was intent on giving the Midlands armies the illusion of a chance at victory only to rip it away with the arrival of the rest of his forces.

But she did not believe that this was solely about defending their stronghold in Sitya. Moving his troops like this was a strategic choice, one that hinted at what was to come. Kakos wasn’t simply marching on Sitya.

They were marching on the realm .

The war may have started with the first attack on the Midlands, but it hadn’t, not truly. Sitya, Milsaio, Dunmeaden…

Those were mere trials—experiments meant to test their powers and perhaps even trick the realm into thinking there was hope to be had. And perhaps at one point, there had been. But now that a demigod had entered the fray, Kakos had exactly what they needed to rally their forces and make their move.

So yes, hope was a dangerous thing, because gods, it could be ripped away so easily, and yet Aya held fast to it anyway, at least for this . A single thought, a final prayer, a last desperate plea to the gods she was about to enact vengeance on.

She hoped Will would not live to see what would become of this world; of her .

She hoped he was dead, and that when she followed, he would forgive her.

***

Watching Akeeta and Tyr was agonizing. Of course, Will would never begrudge his bonded her happiness. Even when Aya had loathed him and, by extension, the bond between their wolves, Will had not been able to bring himself to detest it.

It had given him a strange sense of peace, actually, back in those days. He’d watch Akeeta and Tyr roughhouse and think wryly of how the only times Aya couldn’t mask her hatred was when they were sparring, too.

It was there, of course. It was always there. But those were the moments he could sense the other things, too.

Seeing Tyr and Akeeta together then had given him hope.

He searched for that hope as he watched the Athatis now, Tyr grooming the fur on the back of Akeeta’s head steadily.

They’d made it out of the desert and into the plains, the golden fields stretching on as far as his eye could see.

The dry air had eased as they drew closer to the coast, as had the cold that had bitten them in the desert.

With the moon shining bright in the sky and the steady murmur of the Visya fighters clustered on their mats on the other side of the small fire Aidon had rendered, Will could almost forgive himself for calling the night peaceful.

The nearest village was far enough that the stars were unencumbered by Incend light. He tilted his head back, one arm propped on his knee, the other stretching toward Akeeta, his fingers buried in the fur of her flank.

“Pa and I used to try to count all of the stars in the sky,” Aya had confessed to him on their journey back from the Preuve desert.

They had stopped just outside of the Agaré rainforest in the highlands and camped under the stars.

If he closed his eyes, he could still feel the warm press of her back to his chest, could still smell her evergreen and mint scent as if he were burying his nose in her hair.

“On one of my first assignments, I was waiting for a mark, and I started doing it again. There I was, tucked away in an alleyway outside of the Rouline, and I just…looked up and counted the stars to calm my nerves. There weren’t many, but it helped.

I’d never realized that’s what Pa was teaching me. ”

Will blinked the burning from his eyes and began to count.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. He reached 232 before he finally accepted the ache that was spreading throughout his chest was one that would not ease. Not until he had her in his arms again.

He kept counting though.

I see you , he’d told her. I have always seen you.

It made sense that he thought of Aya when he looked at the stars. She’d been so convinced she was made of darkness. But all he’d ever seen when he’d looked at her was light.