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The god backed away and lowered himself to his chair. He hid his upper half in the shadows of his temple, ending his conversation with us.

I’d had enough. Because of the being before me, I was forced into this world.

I had made friends, a new family, and fallen for a man who died to protect the people from what the gods had put inside me.

I had forgotten my anger when he had died.

I had forgotten how this had been done to me.

The magic was put inside me without my permission.

The reminder that this was not my doing—that stronger forces had controlled my life—raged through me.

Smoke gathered as the floor hissed.

“Saviour.” Ollo warned, “You’re steaming.”

“You’re lying!” I screamed at Ouras.

He had gone so still he looked like a statue once more.

“You can take it back. You did this to me. You brought me here. I want to know why. What is the point?”

“Brought you here?” The monk asked, who stood her ground before us. She took a step toward me, taking in my face, skin, and lack of noticeable markers of a legacy. “Where are you from? Ouras would like to know.”

The Oracle’s warning rang clear in my mind, “ Do not speak of where you are from, even if it’s the gods asking.”

Smoke and ash gathered when I could no longer contain my anger. I looked toward the twins, who, though unaffected by the heat, looked worried.

The Guardians were getting ready to attack, even without the god’s blessing.

“Take her down! The Ikhor is attacking our god!”

“The magic will kill us!”

“The two blue ones! They must be Aethar,” another said.

“Dear gods,” Ollo swore, stepping back.

“They’ve hidden their scars so they could be spies!” The Guardians seemed to forget all about the Ikhor after the monk’s declaration that the Aspis owned my death. Instead, they zeroed in on the twins.

“We gotta go.” Maev pulled on my elbow again, trying to back me away from the angry mob. “Liv, we have no way of protecting ourselves. You need to use the magic.”

“But the Aspis.”

“Then burn it too. Anything, please.” Her voice shook.

My body jerked at the sudden tug to my ankles and wrists. Vines thicker than rope curled around my limbs, holding me tight and pinning me in place. I scanned the crowd to find Mountain Legacies with their hands raised, controlling the earth to hold me hostage.

“Purebloods?” whispered the Guardians.

“Magic users!” shouted another. “They aren’t supposed to exist.”

The monks of the Mountain temple were using their magic, giving away their secrets to capture the Ikhor.

The Guardians went still—their teachings told them that magic was meant for the gods, not the children.

“I wasn’t attacking!” I shouted. “I am not going to hurt you!”

Guardians stared at the display of magic.

Maev and Ollo, having seen mine, were only shocked that the monks no longer hid it.

“You can control magic?” a Guardian asked the monks. “But how? Did Ouras grant you this power?”

“Look not at us, Guardians. Look to the enemy. It attacks.”

The Guardians were now nervous. Some even scowled. Another divide was happening between the legacies, and I was witnessing it.

“You don’t fool us, Ikhor,” an older monk covered in scales and spikes said. “You’re not here to give the magic back. You’re here to destroy the gods so you can keep it for yourself.”

The temperature in the room soared, as flames burst in a circle around me, catching the vines alight and turning them to dust.

Guardians and monks jumped back, running for the walls, running from the room as the flames fanned out.

Everything glowed red.

My attention jumped to the twins, who were untouched by the flame.

My control was improving.

I was improving. This power, it was exhilarating.

Maev and Ollo stuck to my sides, where a circle of safe ground surrounded me.

Ouras remained on his dais, uncaring of the heat, and through the flames, I could see yellow irises fixed on me. He didn’t lift a finger to stop me.

Ollo bowed with a hand resting over his heart.

“Ouras, father and protector of Mountain,” he shouted over the roaring flames, “I am Ollo Pretruq, child of Day. I beg you to forgive the Ikhor. She has lost a lot in these past weeks. She wished to change the fate of our people, and we have travelled with her today to do as she wished. End this. Please tell us how we can end the cycle. Surely, you must know.”

I silently thanked Ollo for his interference because Ouras fidgeted, seeming to listen.

Maev wrapped her arm around my shoulder, calming my racing heart and pulling me close.

“I hadn’t asked for your family name,” I said to Maev in a low voice.

“I’ll add it to the long list of things that have slipped your mind when it comes to us.”

I smiled despite her cutting words. “You really aren’t afraid of me anymore, are you?”

“You’re mistaken about that as well.”

Ouras raised a hand in the air, pointing to me.

The young monk raced to the god’s side, dodging the flames creeping along the floor. “He does not lie to you, Ikhor. He can’t take it back.”

“Then get the others,” I demanded. “I will give it back to all of you.”

“That is not possible.” The monk faked a sad smile, so exaggerated I wanted to laugh.

“He has been unable to find his sister Mayra, who has hidden away in the depths of her seas. And his brother Erabas has not been seen for millennia. He can barely recall the time of his leaving or his reasons for doing so.”

“Then what can I do? There must be something,” I cried.

“You must atone. If the legacies cannot fix their greed, then they are doomed. Your other option is to find the other two yourself. But I fear you will not live long enough to take on such a task, for in thousands of years, he has been unable to do so himself.”

Maev squeezed my shoulder tighter, a warning.

“No,” I spat.

“No?” another monk asked.

“No,” I repeated. “I don’t accept that answer. I will get rid of the magic. I won’t die from it. If you need the other two, then I will find them.”

Movement grabbed my attention in the shadows of Ouras’s throne. The god sat forward, coming into the light once more. The eyes of the Aspis held mine. The god actually fought to hide a smile. He shifted that gaze to the twins, clearly interested in my resolve.

Ouras seemed to like this plan. Now, I only had to figure out how to find two missing gods.

“You cannot mean to allow the Ikhor to escape,” a Guardian asked, trapped behind a wall of fire.

I let the fire spread, protecting the twins and me from any attack.

The young monk, now hidden behind the vines growing from Ouras, stepped forward. “You know how this goes. The Aspis was created to destroy the Ikhor. It is the only thing that can. The gods cannot kill one of their children.”

“Ikhhhorrr.”

The ground shook. I stumbled, catching myself before I hit the ground. Some of the fire snuffed out, creating holes in my defence.

The god’s booming voice echoed low and rocked the temple. Everyone turned to face the statue in the shadows.

“I thought he couldn’t speak the common tongue,” Maev said.

“Probably because he shakes the entire earth when he does,” I replied.

“Do nnnnot returnnn to mmmy temmmple again.”

Because I was already near the ground, I only had to spread my hands out to stay upright.

Other Guardians fell this time when the temple shook. One landed in the fire and rolled away, patting their arm where their shirt was lit.

“But what if I can bring the other gods? Return the magic? I’ll have to come back!” I could no longer see his face in the shadows, but he was watching me.

“Youuu will nnnnot make it through mmmmy doors. It wwwwill cost you yourrrr life.”

Why did it seem like the gods didn’t want the magic back?

When the dust settled after Ouras spoke, the Guardians surrounding me jumped to their feet, faces stripped of fear and settling on hate.

“If you can’t stop her, we will,” shouted a Guardian with wings like a butterfly.

Others nodded in agreement, eyeing the gaps in my fire.

But nobody moved to attack because, at that moment, the temple shook with a roar.

The Aspis. It had sensed my magic and was coming for me.

“Looks like we don’t have to lift a finger,” a Guardian shouted, cowering against the wall.

I was getting really tired of all this. Running, fear, the blame being cast on me. Every place I went, there was conflict. I missed being on the road with the Guards. Somehow, they avoided conflict much better than me.

It was easy to call the fire and set the rest of Ouras’s temple ablaze. It was even easier to escape.

What confused me was the god’s smile.

As I left, running to keep up with the twins, I thought how, once more, the earth would burn, and only hatred would rise from the ashes.