We dismissed ourselves, and I led Malakai from the Rapture Chamber. As we strolled down the corridor with an unaffected front, the milky eyes of the Warrior God burned into my spine.
It wasn’t until we were back in the office in my suite with the door locked that Malakai faced me and asked, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I answered too quickly, mind racing.
“Phel,” he said softly.
I wandered to the shelves, scanning the dozens of books I’d amassed in this room since moving here. Most centered on Mystique history and Angel lore, dabbling in various subgenres from folktales to geography to legendary battles.
And not one held an ounce of information as to the weakness of the Warrior God—none even spoke of hisexistence.
“We are entirely blind, Malakai,” I whispered.
He sighed, coming to stand beside me and facing the shelves, categorizing the false history we’d been fed in our childhood lessons preparing to rule the Mystique Warriors.
“For centuries, everyone has been playing exactly into his hands,” Malakai agreed, not saying Echnid’s name. “My fatherand Kakias amplified clan unrest and planted the idea that we needed to reclaim power we never even knew was ours. The Soulguiders, who didn’t know how important Xenique’s secrets would be. Past Revereds who handed that spear from one to the next, unaware they were just keeping it warm for the Chosen to find an emblem.”
My heart panged at the mention of Angelborn, the memory of Ritalia melting her and Starfire ripping through me.
Malakai went on, “And we had no idea it was all exactly as he wanted, priming us for power and desperation.”
“No one but Annellius,” I muttered. Only my ancestor, the first chosen, had discovered Echnid’s plans. Only he had stood against gods and Angels. “Echnid is trying to sway us to him, for whatever reason. Grand promises and talk of dreams. He needs us on his side.”
“And are you?” Malakai asked, almost reluctantly.
I shook my head, studying the books again. So many years of learnings, myths and legends?—
A thought tore through me like a lightning bolt. Something the sphinx, Ithinix, had said in the Hall of Wandering Souls when Jezebel and I had found out the purpose of this entire curse. “How do you think Annellius did it?”
Malakai inclined his head, not following my train of thought. Concern seeped into his stare, and he looked me up and down as if checking that Echnid’s misty white magic wasn’t still tangled around me.
When he found nothing, he said, “He sacrificed his life.”
“Yes, but how did he know?” My wings shuffled at my excitement, and Malakai’s stare flashed to them, but the pain of the motion barely connected in my brain. Not with the path I was speeding down. “How did Annellius find out if he was not able to speak to the sphinx?”
Malakai brushed a thumb along the scar on his jaw, considering. “Damien’s visits?”
“Damien could only say so much because of how the gods locked away knowledge of Echnid.” I shook my head. “No, there had to be something Annellius found that didn’t blatantly say the answers but pointed him toward it. Something that gave him enough information to not only play the game but win it.”
Ithinix had revealed as much. Annellius had found myths, histories, and folktales that didn’t align and built the truth out of the gaps between them.
“Yeah, Phel, but we’re already too deep in the game.” He dropped his voice. “The god ishere. He’s free.”
“So, we play differently. We find whatever Annellius knew and use it to our advantage.”
“Wouldn’t it be best to just try to get safely out of here?” Malakai asked. “To ignite the spark of a rebellion that’s bound to flourish as Ambrisk feels Echnid’s wrath and let the other gods finish him?”
He wanted to run, and I understood why. Echnid’s fury was dangerous, and we didn’t know his full goals or motives beyond revenge. This was a war that shouldn’t need to be fought among warriors, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be. That didn’t mean we shouldn’t be a part of a battle being waged for our future.
Besides, I was no mere warrior.
I placed a hand on Malakai’s arm. “I am already ahead of Annellius with the wrath of a seraph of all seven Angels running through my veins. We can rewrite the rules here, Malakai.”
“How so?”
“I’ll play Echnid’s game. He wants me here, and he wants me willing. I’ll become who he needs me to be in order to cross him.”
Malakai contemplated, green eyes searching my expression as he tried to poke holes in the rocky foundations of this plan.But he found none. This territory was uncharted, every path on the map colliding into a tumbleweed of options.
