I opened my mouth to comment, but even with the stars in her eyes, Vale tutted. “Don’t say it.”
“Stargirl,” I groaned.
“You’ve made your argument a dozen times, Cypherion.”
“Then, once more won’t hurt,” I muttered, the bond riling even though the rational side of my brain knew she was capable of this.
Vale withdrew from her reading entirely at the tone of my voice, taking strides across the sandy space toward me. We were in a desolate area of the desert, far enough away from any city or even small settlements that no one would get hurt.
One where, if Erista was correct in her theory that Echnid couldn’t enter Xenovia, the godcouldreach us. And hopefully he would. If Valyrie’s plan with Vale succeeded, Echnid would take our bait and show up here, where we were prepared to distract him.
Dynaxtar drank from the small oasis, palm trees rimming the space to provide shade and cacti jutting up between them. As Vale approached and braced her hands on my chest, I eyed the khrysaor over her shoulder. Dynaxtar lifted her head, slitted eyes finding me like she felt my attention.
We protect her, I thought her stare said, and something in the Fatesworn bond relaxed in agreement. With a hand on my cheek, Vale pulled my gaze back to her. I had to admit, the worry eased for a minute.
“This will work,” she assured me.
“And if he realizes he’s been tricked, you read, and I fight,” I repeated for what felt like the hundredth time, though anxiety still scratched through the bond.
Typically, I would work out a number of contingency plans for all of these vague situations—ones that allowed me to stop being so damn worried. I’d been trying to for the past few days of planning and travel, barely fucking sleeping.
But I’d come up empty beyond using Vale’s stronger Fate connections to instruct me down the Fatesworn bond.
Spirits, I was the Mystique Second, but I’d been feeling less and less like a capable ruler lately.
My scythe was heavy against my back. That, the khrysaor, the adrenaline coursing through my veins, and the pure amount of power Vale contained, would have to be enough.
“I’m with Cypherion,” Malakai called from where he leaned against a tree, arms crossed.
“Why does that not surprise me?” Mila joked, but she slid an arm around his waist, muttering something I couldn’t hear.
“He doesn’t know exactly what I am,” Vale reminded me. “I’ve seen it. I’m as unprecedented as a seraph returning. He’s curious—everyone is.”
Ophelia’s haunted stare when she first returned from Damenal flashed through my mind. “That’s not as comforting as you think,” I mumbled, pressing my lips to her forehead.
A shadow drooped over us, making the world colder.
“Dynaxtar,” Vale said with a small laugh. She pulled back and patted the khrysaor’s mane affectionately, but that slitted eye met mine again, and her promise repeated.
We protect her.
I nodded, and an alliance sealed between me and the beast. One centered on the incredible Starsearcher in our midst, the Fatecatcher of the goddess.
“Don’t worry, Cyph,” Jezebel added, emerging from the tree line atop Zanox, “we have a few hidden tricks, too.”
My gaze flicked over her shoulder, but before I could comment, Vale gasped.
Her eyes were pure silver again, power practically rippling off her as it did the gods and Angels as the Fatecatcher channeled an abundance of readings. And that unsettling, misty voice that sounded so much like Moirenna’s floated from her.
“It’s almost time,” she said with a proud grin. The Fatesworn bond between us hummed with awe. I could have wondered over it for days if the air ahead of us hadn’t begun to waver.
“All right,” I conceded, fists clenching. “Let’s hurry.”
Dynaxtar dropped a wing, and I boosted Vale up, following her onto the creature’s broad back. I angled my scythe so it laidagainst her flank. It wasn’t ideal, but with that protective look she’d given, I knew the khrysaor was okay with the weapon.
“Come on, Dynaxtar,” Vale instructed, still reading.
Jezebel and Zanox marched steadily beside us, Malakai and Mila between the khrysaor as they purposefully crossed the dunes. White mist seeped through that rippling spot in the air ahead, swirling in a thin layer around the khrysaor’s legs. Their clawed feet sank into the sand, but the beasts strode forward with the steadiness demanded of war with a god.
