How had I been so horrid as to doubt such a thing?
With a deep breath and a curt nod at Trint, who tapped his foot impatiently just ahead, I urged them along, grinding my teeth at the pounding in my ears. Farai seemed to force himself forward with the same will that I had, and I dipped into his mind to watch as he thought of his husband, our sweet and loving Jasper. For him, for Nicola, for every fae, we would do this.
Softly—uncertainly—I lulled him, giving him all the peace I could not give myself. In a way, it was like living through him, feeling that assurance settle bone-deep within his chest. Light shone through a wide opening now, the end of the tunnel in sight. Somehow, that did nothing to reassure me. Instead, it lit every warning signal in my mind, bells ringing and screams sounding. As if every horrific memory was telling me that this would be a bad idea.
At the end of the tunnel, we stepped into a large open ring of dirt, which was surrounded by seating and stairs made of rock. Nearly every seat was full, reaching to the top of the large hole that held the coliseum. I had never seen so many beings in one place. My jaw dropped, my brain momentarily too stunned to register the pain of how much louder it was from here.
Farai, on the other hand, fell to the ground. His screams broke me from my trance, and suddenly, it was too much to bear. The piercing in my ears. The thoughts of hundreds of thousands of people shoving into that golden gate protecting my mind. Farai writhing on the ground as he bled from his ears, eyes, nose, and mouth.
“Henry, get him to Ranbir!” I shouted, watching as even the demon’s freckled face scrunched in pain. He hesitated, eyes flicking from me to the crowd and back again. “Now!”
The king put up a hand, silencing the large crowd within seconds. Could he not have done that sooner?
Finally, Henry nodded, lunging for Farai and disappearing in a flash of white light. Gasps rang out, coming from people all around us. They had likely never witnessed such a thing. Seeing as this was their normal day of worship, it was safe to say that those in attendance were among the most devout of the mortals. Which meant they would see this as their first sign that something other—something greater—was among them.
With a deep breath, I pushed down the nausea that came from the agony in my ears and pet Wrath with my pointer finger. He nestled further into my hair, using it like a barrier.
I walked to Trint, who had made his way to the center. My feet carried me at a slow and confident pace, though the ringing in my ears had not so much as faded, leaving me unable to hear whatever Trint was saying. Had the crowd really gone quiet, or could I simply not hear them?
Behind him was a large statue of a violet throne, carvings of skulls and flowers etched into it, connected with swirling patterns and runes. Atop the throne was a male, his lengthy and thin body clothed in billowy robes. The same as my own, I realized. His black hair flowed down his body, which was left unpainted, reaching the floor and pooling along with the purple robes. His ears, I noted, were round—like a mortal’s. The death god’s eyes were what really stood out though, their bright golden hue startling.
Trint’s arm reached out, pulling my attention away from the statue. With a smile I hoped looked genuine, I placed my hand in his, watching as he lowered his lips to my skin. Needing to know what was happening, I opened a small door within my mental shield, the gate creaking slightly as it welcomed the thoughts of those around me. My free fist clenched so tightly that my nails pierced my flesh, the skin trying to heal but failing when I did not loosen the hold. There were so many thoughts, too many.
The gods walk among us!
It must be the Goddess of the Sun and Moon, did you see the light?
King Trint has brought the gods to Gandry!
King Trint will save the world!
Bow!
Pray!
The gods! The gods! The gods! The gods!
Then there was Trint, his stoic face not betraying the calculating and eager thoughts that filled his mind.
Are you ready for the show, Asher?
I was sure that his mental voice matched the words that came from his lips, but because I could not hear, I took no chances and offered only a curt nod in return. Trint smiled, the dazzling flash of teeth like armor to a king.
Trint’s mouth moved, and I forced out the other voices, focusing every ounce of my magic on him. I crafted a new gate, one that surrounded only the two of us—fighting off everyone but him. I listened through his mind as he spoke to his people.
Ladies and gentleman, I so humbly thank you for allowing this change in worship. I know the holy day is revered; therefore, I pray you understand that this alteration to schedule is not something I have done lightly.
Thoughts pelted against me, trying and only barely failing to break through my gate. Trint’s words were definitely rousing them, though I was unsure if it was in a positive way or not.
Today, I beg of you to watch—to bear witness to—an extraordinary blessing. One that not even our holiest of ancestors were afforded.
Turning to face me fully, Trint’s smile did not falter, did not so much as twitch. But his mind…oh, his mind told another story.
Princess, if you can hear me, make this count. Know that you will not get another chance, and neither will I.
Lying to them now was for the greater good. Not only for the demons and the fae but for them too. At least, that was what I told myself as I nodded to the king.
His warm hands met my shoulders, and as he helped me out of my robe, I shattered the gate. Bars of gold snapped in half, the barrier protecting my mind falling apart. It hit the hedges and the flowers, every ounce of protection I had built so long ago crumbling before me.
