Page 84 of The Curse of Gods (The Curse of Saints #3)

“You look horrible.”

Aya tried to bite back her smile, but her lips formed one regardless as she shook her head. “Thanks, Natali. It’s good to see you, too.”

She should have known the Saj was who Aidon was referring to; they were, after all, the smartest person Aya knew. But it wasn’t until they’d stepped through the door of the formal meeting chamber that Aya had put the pieces together.

Aidon had followed behind them, a wide grin tugging across his face, and if it weren’t treason to hit a king, Aya might have socked him in the shoulder.

She’d forgotten how much Aidon loved drama.

Natali settled across from Aya at the long mahogany table that sat in the center of the room. Will sat by Aya’s side, his hand a steady presence on her thigh. Her leg had started bouncing as soon as she’d sat down, stilling only once the warm press of his palm brought her attention to it.

She still hadn’t quite shed the panic that filled her whenever she was in the palace, but it was worse—so much worse—in the rooms she’d frequented with Tova and Gianna. She hadn’t stepped foot in the throne room since that night with Hyacinth, and thankfully, she hadn’t needed to.

Aleissande was the last to arrive, and Aya watched her curiously as she took a seat next to Josie. Her friend flashed the general a small, private smile that had Aya averting her eyes.

It was good to see Josie happy. She only hoped that happiness could continue after all that was coming for them.

Aya glanced around the table, taking them all in: Nyra, Sarhash, Liam, Galda, Josie, Aleissande, Cole, Aidon, Dauphine, Pa, Mathias, Natali and…

Will.

He squeezed her thigh, a gentle reassurance. She took comfort in that gray stare, at the flecks of green that sparkled there even with the tension they all just barely managed to keep at bay.

Aya cleared her throat, the room fell silent.

“Thank you for being here,” she began, her voice quiet as she looked around the room. “I know you’ve sacrificed a great deal to do so—that you will continue to sacrifice a great deal. I cannot tell you how grateful I am.”

Aidon leaned back in his chair, his hands folding on the table. “It is not just your fight. Not just Tala’s fight. Not anymore.”

“Where are we on battle plans?” Aleissande asked, her gaze piercing. “Do we have formations outlined based on what we know of their attack strategy thus far?”

“We’ll give you everything we have,” Will assured her. “But for now, there’s a larger matter to attend to. The veil.”

“I hear you were going to attempt to steal a demigod’s power and close it yourself,” Natali remarked with a raised brow.

“And I take it by your poorly concealed contempt that it wouldn’t have worked?” Aya asked in return. Natali’s brazenness did not scare her, not anymore. Not now that she could look at Natali and not fear what they would see in her when she did.

Natali smirked, but there was an approving gleam in their eyes that Aya couldn’t help but feel proud to receive. “I didn’t say that.” Their smirk faded into a contemplative purse of their lips. “Tell me again what Lorna said about the veil. One must be gods-born to summon it?”

“Not necessarily. She believed that Evie could interact with it because it’s made from the same power that lives in her.

She said gods-like power, like what the Visya have, is not the same as being gods-born.

But she also believed the reason the Diaforaté struggle with the veil is because the potency of my power didn’t remain when they stole it from me.

That there was a difference between power given and power stolen, a consequence for reaching for power that is not bestowed upon us. ”

Natali frowned. “And yet you were going to steal the demigod’s power?”

“I was going to…direct it. Power is simply energy, is it not?”

Natali made a considering noise. “That is true. Power can be given and taken, although there are consequences to both. It can be contained in Visya—and humans, in some cases, as you learned from those awful experiments in Kakos. And it can also be guided . Instructed.” They lifted a shoulder.

“Of course…this is all hypothetical. We’ve never attempted such things with the veil.

“Either way, the result is the same. I imagine that amount of power flowing into you—or through you—would have resulted in your death.”

“Speaking of hypotheticals,” Will cut in. Aya tensed. She knew exactly where he was going with his interruption. “What if there were two people who could interact with the veil?”

Will’s thumb stroked the outside of her thigh in an attempt to soothe her, but she could not rid herself of the tension that pulled her muscles tight.

Natali cocked their head. “Why do you ask?”

Will cleared his throat, his shoulders straightening as he held the Saj’s gaze. “Apparently…I’m a descendant of the second forbidden goddess.”

For a moment, no one dared to move. A dozen shocked faces stared back at them, and they remained frozen like that as Will proceeded to tell them what he and Aya had learned of his lineage. A flicker of surprise coursed through her when he included the story of his shield.

Surprise, and pride.

When he finished, that silence continued, heavy enough that Aya could feel it pressing against her skin, until finally, Aidon broke it.

“Seven hells,” he groaned. “You’re going to be even more insufferable now, aren’t you?”

Aya couldn’t believe he’d managed to make her laugh, but one indeed fell from her lips. It was short, and hindered by dread, but it was there all the same.

“I’m not calling you Divine,” Liam added.

“That’s fine, Aya can—”

“Okay,” Aya interjected before Will could finish, her cheeks heating. “That’s enough.”

Pa smiled at her in bemusement. And yet the moment only lasted a breath longer, and then the dread was back, cloaking them all with its heaviness.

“If potency of power matters,” Natali said, “I do not think centuries-diluted godsblood will make a difference here.”

Will’s jaw clenched, but Galda cut in before he could manage a retort.

“There are too many unknowns here,” the trainer insisted. “We cannot build our attack based on hypotheticals. Not when the fate of our realm is hanging in the balance.”

“There is one course of action that isn’t hypothetical,” Aya murmured.

“No,” Will growled.

“Will—”

“No.”

“It might be our only option,” she argued. She looked to the rest of the table. “Unless you’ve suddenly discovered some alternative and have yet to tell us?”

Galda shook her head. “My questioning of Hyacinth has yielded nothing,” she reluctantly confessed.

“The same for our research in the Synastysi,” Nyra added softly. “If we had more time, perhaps we could find something, but…”

She didn’t need to finish—they all knew time was the one thing they did not have.

Anxiety twisted in Aya’s stomach, but she forced herself to stay present in the room. She could not afford to give in to the fear nipping at the edges of her mind.

Not yet.

“Can’t we just kill the demigod?” Dauphine asked as she picked at a fleck of dirt beneath her nails with her knife. “Perhaps the Divine will heal the veil themselves once she’s gone.”

“No,” Aya replied. “The Divine won’t give any more power than what they’ve already given to the veil.”

She was still trying to come to terms with how they weren’t the benevolent gods she’d spent her life worshipping. But this, she knew for sure—the gods would not part with more of their power.

“But if we have more time,” Pa reasoned, “we could find another way to mend the veil.”

“And if Evie’s power is the only way?” Aya shot back as she leaned forward, irritation nipping at the edges of her patience.

“Aya,” Josie murmured, but Pa continued, his voice firm in a way that Aya hadn’t heard since she was a child.

“Then we deal with it!”

For whatever reason, her father’s anger was the kindling to the fire that had been brewing in Aya since they’d all settled in the room.

“I appreciate what you all are trying to do. Trust me, I do,” Aya bit out, “but we don’t have time for this.

Kakos is marching on Dunmeaden imminently, and I have seen what they are capable of.

I don’t want to die. But if my death means that no one again suffers their evil, I will willingly give my life for that, as would any of you! ”

Aya didn’t realize she was standing until she finished, her eyes burning as she braced her hands on the table. She bowed her head, her shoulders curling toward her ears as she took a steadying breath.

“It is hard enough for me to come to terms with what must be done,” Aya whispered.

She’d done it once, and it had nearly killed her. The resolve she’d need to do it again…

“Please,” she begged, “do not make it harder.”

She lifted her head to find them all watching her with various degrees of sadness. All except…

Galda.

The trainer wasn’t pitying her. She was frowning at her, her dark eyes narrowed as she stared Aya down.

“Evie’s power might be the only way,” Galda said carefully, “But there are other ways of… directing her power.”

Aya slowly lowered herself into her chair. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking,” Galda growled in her gravelly rasp, “about your born affinity.” Her grin was as sharp as the knives she’d taught Aya to wield. “You are a Persi, aren’t you?”

The remark had Aya drawing up short.

It had been so long since anyone had called her that—since she had remembered that she was, indeed, born a normal Visya.

A Visya with one affinity.

Persuasion.

Galda took advantage of her silence, as she often did. “If what you two believe of the demigod is true—that when her power is greatest, her shield is the weakest—then you have the perfect opportunity to persuade her to mend the veil.”

“So you want her to…what? Wait until Evie is at her weakest point? Wouldn’t that mean she’d be tearing down the veil?” Aidon asked.

Galda shrugged. “She would be starting to, only to fix it with her own power.” She turned her attention back to Aya. “You did want to kill her, yes?”

“I don’t…” Aya swallowed. Tried again. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to persuade her.”

Galda did not waver. “But you’re not an ordinary Persi, are you?” Her gaze flicked to Will, her meaning clear: Aya’s persuasion had long proven to go beyond the bounds of the normal affinity.

Will’s eyes, gray, like the clouds just before a storm, bored into hers. For once, the memory of that day did not seem to haunt them.

“And if you need help,” Natali drawled, pulling Aya’s attention away from her love. “Then you could always leverage this.”

They reached into their pocket, brandishing a small vial that Aya would recognize anywhere.

“We planned to use it on the battlefield to interfere with their warriors’ powers,” Natali explained, tilting the vial of tonic so it caught the torchlight. “I didn’t think it would be effective against a god. Unless…”

“Unless that god had a weakness,” Aya breathed. She turned to Aidon, her heart pounding in her chest. “How much did you bring?”

Aidon lounged back in his chair, a satisfied smirk twisting his lips.

“All of it.”