It was the Burnt Isles; she recognized it now. Before they were burnt, before the catastrophe of the Godsfall left them inperpetual ruin. This was the beach as she’d seen it in Nyxara’s memories, all white sand and blue sky, gray cliffs and silence.
And no Alie.
“Shit.” She sat down on the sand, staring out at the endless ocean.
Any ideas?She prodded at the back of her mind, where Nyxara slept. But the goddess was quiet. In fact, the goddess seemed nearly gone, just a dark space left behind.
Apparently Nyxara couldn’t speak in these dreams. Interesting.
A moment, then Lore lay back, mindless of the sand working its way into her hair. Her eyes drifted closed. At least she hadn’t actually knocked herself out.
“Lore?”
Finally.
Lore scrambled up from the sand, already running as soon as she got her feet beneath her. Alie wasn’t a mirage, wasn’t some filmy ghost; she looked as real and solid as Lore did, standing at the tide line in a white gown with a relieved look on her face. She had to fight to keep her balance when Lore slammed into her, hugging her like she was an anchor in a storm.
“Gods, Alie,” Lore stammered, “I’ve been so worried about you, I can’t believe I left you there—”
“Not like you could have done anything different.” Alie patted her hair. “You were rather incapacitated when they shipped you off.” She pushed Lore gently away, feathering her fingers over the scar on Lore’s temple. “Looks like you healed up just fine.”
“How are you?” Lore didn’t want to talk about her scar. “Are you safe? Have you gotten away?”
“Yes, I’m safe; no, I haven’t gotten away.” Alie gave her a weak smile. “I have a lot to tell you, and I don’t know how long we have. So listen closely.”
Lore did. Lore listened to Alie tell her what this place was—the Isles pre-Godsfall, like she’d thought, but mostly just a constructedplace where they could dreamwalk—and how Bastian was able to break free of Apollius, sometimes. Alie told her of the shards of the Fount, how they had to find them and make them whole again, how she was certain one was in the Burnt Isles and another in Auverraine, and then a third somewhere else on the continent.
Lore listened quietly all the way up until Alie mentioned Lilia.
“Wait.” She waved a hand, as if Lilia were something she could reach out and grab. “You met my mother?”
Alie shifted on her feet. “She wants to help us, Lore. She’s the one who told me to find the shards of the Fount, make It whole before we can restore Its power.”
“She could be lying.” The idea that her mother would suddenly want to help her was almost laughable. Yes, she’d had a change of heart, telling Lore to run rather than let herself be killed, but Lore still couldn’t think of her as an ally. It would hurt too much when she was once again proven wrong.
“Why would she?” Alie shook her head. “No, don’t answer that, I know why you think so. But Lore… she doesn’t want Apollius to be the God of Everything. She doesn’t want the world He’s bringing.”
Seasons scrambled, dying crops, churning storms. All the little ways the earth had been dying since the gods stole the power of the Fount, some Lore had seen with her own eyes, others she’d only heard of secondhand.
Lore looked away from Alie, toward the ocean. “Fine. Say you’re right, and Lilia does want to help. How in all the hells are we supposed to find this Fount piece? And even if we can, how do we get it to the Golden Mount?”
“Bastian thinks he can break into Apollius’s mind, the same way Apollius did to him,” Alie answered. “If he can search Apollius’s thoughts, he can find where the piece is hidden.”
“That would be a stroke of luck,” Lore muttered. “Almost too much luck.”
Alie shrugged. “We’ll take what we can get, at this point.”
Lore chewed at the inside of her cheek. “How is he?” An ache in her voice, too acute to hide. She’d tried very hard not to think too much of Bastian, how he had to be suffering. It hurt too much, to know his pain and be unable to do anything about it. At least she knew Gabe was in charge of his own body.
“Not well,” Alie answered. “But he’s broken through Apollius’s hold more than once.”
Bastian was strong-willed. Maybe he could beat the god back once and for all.
Hope was an improbable seed, rooting without soil, without water.
“So if everything goes well, Bastian can find the location of the shard in Auverraine, and I’ll bring it to the Mount,” Alie continued. “Somehow.”
“And I find the one on the Isles.” Ideally without having to tell Dani what she was looking for. The other woman might be a temporary ally, but Lore still didn’t trust her. “And Gabe looks for the one still on the continent, I’m guessing. Can you talk to him like this?”
