Page 87 of The Curse of Gods (The Curse of Saints #3)

It was fitting in a way that Will and Aya had chosen this particular section of the Wall. They’d stood here together nearly four years ago, just before everything had changed.

Will glanced down at the severe drop—it didn’t scare him. Not with Aya standing beside him. Akeeta growled from where she was stalking the ground behind him, Tyr and Aster at her side. Her ears twitched as she took in the fighting, her hackles raised, a wolf primed for attack.

Aya stood at his side, silent but for the soft whizz of her power as she sent a pulse of lightning into the sky.

A call for a demigod that had thus far gone unanswered.

Aya let her power cease, a frustrated huff leaving her as she scanned the battle. Her fingers twitched at her side, as if longing to grab her blade and join the fray.

The sun had crested over the horizon, but it was still tucked behind the Malas. Between their shadows and the cloud cover that began to roll in from the Anath, an eerie darkness had fallen over the field.

At least it made Aya’s light more visible. Her jaw clenched as she sent another pulse of it into the sky.

Aidon stood on her other side, his bow at the ready. Every so often, he scanned the grounds behind them, ensuring their backs were covered. But so far, no one had approached from either direction.

The tonic had done its job, allowing the first lines of soldiers—Visya and human—to make their attack.

But Kakos far outnumbered them, even with the allies they’d gathered.

For every line that fell, another rose up in its place, fresh and untouched by the tonic that had muted the power of the front lines.

Will could already see the impact on their own army. Slowly but surely, Kakos was advancing while they buckled under their assault.

Aya shifted beside him, and Will’s hand latched onto her arm.

“Not yet,” he murmured.

“I cannot just stand here and watch this,” Aya argued. His affinity brushed against her instinctively, and he could almost feel the way her power was begging to burst out of her.

“I know,” he said roughly. “But the plan was to draw Evie out.”

“I don’t see her,” Aya hissed as she whirled to face him, her eyes were wide and furious. “Do you?”

Will scanned her features, every bit of her desperation mirrored in his own thunderous heartbeat.

No, he didn’t see any sign of the demigod. Nor did he see the destruction he’d expected from the Diaforaté.

It was almost as if they hadn’t joined the battle at all.

“Something’s not right about this,” Aya insisted. “We’re missing something, something important.” She tugged her lip beneath her teeth as she looked back out onto the field. “She should be here.”

“Unless this isn’t the main event,” Will muttered darkly as he watched the battle. “Is it possible our counts of their numbers were wrong?”

“No,” Aya said with a sharp shake of her head. She sent up another pulse of lightning, this one tinged with rage.

“Easy,” Will warned.

“She has to be here,” Aidon added from her other side. He slowly lowered his bow. “From everything you said, she wouldn’t miss a chance to make a spectacle.”

Will watched as the color drained from Aya’s face. “Seven hells,” she breathed. “That’s it. She wants to make a spectacle.”

Aidon shot Will a questioning glance, but he shook his head in confusion.

“Aya,” Will prompted.

“She’s going to the place where she first called down the gods,” Aya said. Already, she was taking a step back, as if she planned to race into the mountains.

“Wait,” Will pleaded as he grabbed her wrist. “We don’t even know where that is. The Conoscenza just says it was the highest peak, but…”

“I do,” Aya insisted. “I’ve seen it before.”

Will opened his mouth to argue, but a massive explosion echoed across the battlefield, shaking the ground beneath their feet.

Will hooked an arm around Aya’s waist as they staggered sideways, loose rocks from the Wall crumbling beneath their feet.

Aidon grabbed the collar of Will’s fighting leathers and tugged them both back onto the grass, away from the edge.

“What the hells was that?” Aidon demanded as he turned toward the battle.

Will’s stomach roiled as he followed his gaze. A small crater sat in the center of the battlefield, a circle of bodies littered around it.

No, he realized. Not bodies.

Body parts.

“A Diaforaté,” Will muttered. “They’re here.”

***

Aya searched the battlefield desperately from her place on the Wall, but there was no sign of Evie. And yet that Diaforaté had succumbed to their power right there, and she knew there were more of them, and—

“We have to go,” Will urged, his grip tight on her wrist. “Aya, if you know where she is, we have to go.”

He tugged her off the edge and pivoted so he was in front of her, blocking her view of the battlefield. His hands were warm as they cupped her face. “This is how you help them, remember?” he said breathlessly. “This is how you help.”

Aya swallowed, shoving the guilt away as she nodded. She tore her face from Will’s hands, her steps quick as she went to the small pile of supplies they’d brought with them and unearthed a second quiver of arrows.

She turned and shoved it at Aidon.

“What are you doing?” Aidon asked with a frown.

“Someone needs to fight the Diaforaté here. You have the perfect advantage,” Aya said as she nodded toward the Wall.

She pressed the quiver further into his chest, her heart sinking as she saw the moment he realized her intentions.

“No,” Aidon said. “I am coming with you.”

Aya’s stomach twisted, but there was no time to argue. She glanced at where Will was untying the horse they’d held back for this very reason—in case they had to go elsewhere, and quickly.

“You saved my life with a bow once,” Aya rushed. “Now go save the realm’s. Please.”

“Aya—”

“I cannot stay here and help,” Aya argued, desperation bleeding into her voice as she held Aidon’s gaze. “But you can. Please, Aidon. Save our people.”

Aidon’s face shuttered, and she took it as surrender. She rocked up onto her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Stay with him, Aster,” Aya ordered the black wolf.

“Wait,” Aidon gasped, his eyes darting across his face. “I-I don’t—”

“No goodbyes,” Aya cut him off as she backed toward Will. “Not today.”

“Not today,” Aidon echoed. He cast her a lingering glance before he turned back to the field. Aya fought against the burning in her eyes as she took in his silhouette on the Wall.

No goodbyes.

No goodbyes.

She turned and ran to where Will was waiting for her. He heaved her into the saddle before tugging himself up.

“Where exactly are we going?” he asked as they took off, their wolves at their heels.

“To an old amphitheater,” Aya answered, her heart pounding as she urged the horse on.

She’d seen it in a dream. It was the first time Evie had revealed her true self.

Aya didn’t know how to explain how she knew that was where Evie had called down the gods, but she could feel an urging in her gut spurring her on, like the gentle touch of her goddess’s hand was at her shoulder, steering her in the right direction.

They raced past the palace gates, curving around the grounds and into the thick of the forest that stretched up the mountains. The air seemed heavier the further they rode, its usual thinness lost to a pressure that pushed down on them as the sky continued to darken.

Aya knew this feeling. She’d felt it on the skiff in the Anath as they approached Sitya.

“Come on,” she urged the horse, her heels nudging her forward. “Come on.”

The horse put on another burst of speed, the trees and rocks blurring as they continued up the winding path, further into the peaks of the mountains.

A deep sense of familiarity settled in Aya, a recognition from the blurred memories of her nightmares.

They were getting closer.

They darted around the bend, and sure enough, there were the remains of the dilapidated village Aya had seen in her dreams.

“What the hells,” Aya heard Will mutter to himself from behind her.

Aya spurred their horse onward, through the village, toward that basin where Evie had revealed herself. She could just make out the edges of it, the rocks that descended downward, where the stone-carved benches would be.

A deafening crack exploded across the sky, the entire expanse lighting up with blinding lightning. Their horse let out a terrified neigh as it bucked and reared, its head thrashing from side to side.

Aya tried to maintain her grip on the mare, but she was too wild, too scared. She and Will careened to the ground.

Another loud crack sounded, the mountain trembling beneath them as they got to their feet.

“A storm?” Will asked incredulously, his brow furrowed as he took in the sky. The wind whipped around them, that stillness that had been in the air gone.

“That’s not a storm,” Aya yelled. She grabbed his wrist and tugged him forward, toward the edge of the basin. She lurched to a halt as she caught sight of the pit.

There, in the center, dressed in robes of navy, stood at least a dozen Diaforaté in a circle, their arms lifted toward the sky.

And in the center, her face turned toward the Beyond with a vicious smile, was Evie.

“It’s not a storm,” Aya repeated. “It’s the gods.”