CHAPTER ONE
Esmae
Arcadia burns beyond the yellow trees, but I’m cold.
My blood has turned the snow beneath me red. My tears have frozen on my eyelashes. The blood is from my head, which hit the trunk of a tree. My left leg keeps twitching, but I can’t make it stop. I can’t even make it bend at the knee. Somewhere in the distance, a night bird screams a warning.
I don’t know how long I’ve been out here. Too long, probably. Titania and Sybilla expected me to come out the other side of the woods forever ago, but I never made it that far. The earpiece, my only tether to them, is lost somewhere in the snow. It flew out of my ear when the explosion flung me into the trees.
I have been almost murdered more times than I can remember, most recently by my own mother, so I have to admit, I didn’t expect to die like this. So quietly. So alone. With so little drama.
It’s a bit disappointing.
Then I hear the crunch of footsteps in the snow. And a long, slender figure crouches beside me.
“This is an unexpected surprise,” says Leila Saka, my brother’s general and my mother’s most trusted friend.
Her knife glints silver and gold, reflecting the fires of Arcadia.
CHAPTER TWO
Titania
High above Kali, six gods assemble in a boy’s tower. Well, four gods. Two of them are not gods anymore.
There’s Suya, the sun god, a handsome man with his arms crossed over the gold sun that hangs around his neck. There’s Thea, soft and pretty, black-skinned and roundcheeked, curled into her seat like a cat. Kirrin, a boy of blue. Tyre, blond and quiet, leaning on the wall in the corner. Then there’s Amba, of course, a beautiful woman sitting very straight in a chair. She’s the picture of grace, but her brown skin is ashy, her dark hair has lost that otherworldly sparkle it always had, and the tiny beads of sweat at her hairline are an indication of just how difficult it is for her to stay upright. And finally, there’s Max, a young man with black hair and eyes so dark it’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking.
I think this is how Esmae would have described them, if she were here.
But Esmae is not here.
It’s been thirty-six days since that night in Arcadia. I shouldn’t be able to miss a person. I’m a machine.
And yet I miss her. No, it’s not just that. I am worried about her, too. I don’t really understand human emotions, and I certainly don’t understand why I feel them so keenly, but I’m sure this is anxiety.
Where is she?
I can search every database connected to the galactic network, even the most secure. I can detect thermal signatures and heartbeats. My system can scan an entire planet in minutes. I am Titania, the greatest starship ever built, unbeatable and indestructible and very, very excellent. And yet, somehow, I cannot find Esmae.
The data points to one conclusion, of course. If I cannot find her, if I cannot find any trace of her thermal signature or heartbeat, that suggests she does not have either anymore. Hard data does not lie.
So why, then, do I refuse to accept that? I think it’s called hope. And hope is human. Hope is stupid.
I am a machine.
Meanwhile, in the tower, the gods are silent, little more than statues in one of their temples. This is not unusual for Tyre, in the corner, but I can tell it’s difficult for Thea. Her cherubic face is worried.
Amba loses patience first. “I get more gray hairs with each moment we sit here,” she says.
Suya, the golden sun god, chuckles. The others look at him. He uncrosses his arms and raises his hands defensively. “What? Wasn’t it a joke? Because our sister is mortal now?”
Amba narrows her eyes at him before saying, “I assume you haven’t forgotten we’re all almost out of time?”
“How could I?” Suya’s smile fades. “Do you think I’m not aware every moment that that monster is out there hunting for me?”
“Don’t call her that,” Max snaps.
“Sorsha is Amba’s sister, which makes her our sister,” Thea says more gently.
“And,” Max goes on, “she’s hunting you because you murdered her mother. You remember her mother, don’t you, Suya? The one who saved Amba from our father?
You know the only reason Sorsha has to live with her terrible curse is because Devaki saved Amba and Amba saved the rest of us.”
“The rest of us?” says Suya incredulously. “You’re not one of us. Valin’s been dead for a hundred years.”
“Suya,” Thea pleads.
“Stop it,” Amba snaps. “Suya, keep your mouth shut if you have nothing helpful to contribute.”
“Ah, of course, it’s always my fault,” Suya says bitterly. “Let’s pretend this was my doing, shall we?” He grinds his teeth. “We are all running out of time. Stars have gone out. Soon, it’ll be our sun. And that impending doom is not because I accidentally killed Devaki. It’s because they—” here he points at Max and Kirrin “—made the mistake of falling in love with two mortals and helped them—”
“Sorsha was a mistake,” Kirrin cuts in. “My mistake. I would never have released her if I hadn’t been certain I could keep her in check. I was wrong. I was reckless with her life, and with every life in the galaxy. I hurt Amba. And I am sorry. If I could take it back, I would. But I can’t.”
“Exactly.” Tyre pushes himself off the wall. “If we survive this, Suya, we’ll have centuries to fight with Kirrin about his foolishness. For now, we need to focus on Sorsha. Amba, can we get her back to Anga?”
Amba’s hands twist in her lap. Thea lays one of her own hands on Amba’s and squeezes gently. Amba looks up at Tyre. “No,” she says. “Not unless she goes of her own free will, which she won’t. I was the only one who had the power to force Sorsha to go back to Anga. I have no power now.”
“And we can thank a mortal for that, too,” Suya seems unable to resist pointing out. “Arcadia is ash. The laws of righteous warfare were broken. And in the midst of that chaos, the only god who could have stopped Sorsha
![images]()
CHAPTER TWO
Titania
High above Kali, six gods assemble in a boy’s tower. Well, four gods. Two of them are not gods anymore.
There’s Suya, the sun god, a handsome man with his arms crossed over the gold sun that hangs around his neck. There’s Thea, soft and pretty, black-skinned and roundcheeked, curled into her seat like a cat. Kirrin, a boy of blue. Tyre, blond and quiet, leaning on the wall in the corner. Then there’s Amba, of course, a beautiful woman sitting very straight in a chair. She’s the picture of grace, but her brown skin is ashy, her dark hair has lost that otherworldly sparkle it always had, and the tiny beads of sweat at her hairline are an indication of just how difficult it is for her to stay upright. And finally, there’s Max, a young man with black hair and eyes so dark it’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking.
I think this is how Esmae would have described them, if she were here.
But Esmae is not here.
It’s been thirty-six days since that night in Arcadia. I shouldn’t be able to miss a person. I’m a machine.
And yet I miss her. No, it’s not just that. I am worried about her, too. I don’t really understand human emotions, and I certainly don’t understand why I feel them so keenly, but I’m sure this is anxiety.
Where is she?
I can search every database connected to the galactic network, even the most secure. I can detect thermal signatures and heartbeats. My system can scan an entire planet in minutes. I am Titania, the greatest starship ever built, unbeatable and indestructible and very, very excellent. And yet, somehow, I cannot find Esmae.
The data points to one conclusion, of course. If I cannot find her, if I cannot find any trace of her thermal signature or heartbeat, that suggests she does not have either anymore. Hard data does not lie.
So why, then, do I refuse to accept that? I think it’s called hope. And hope is human. Hope is stupid.
I am a machine.
Meanwhile, in the tower, the gods are silent, little more than statues in one of their temples. This is not unusual for Tyre, in the corner, but I can tell it’s difficult for Thea. Her cherubic face is worried.
Amba loses patience first. “I get more gray hairs with each moment we sit here,” she says.
Suya, the golden sun god, chuckles. The others look at him. He uncrosses his arms and raises his hands defensively. “What? Wasn’t it a joke? Because our sister is mortal now?”
Amba narrows her eyes at him before saying, “I assume you haven’t forgotten we’re all almost out of time?”
“How could I?” Suya’s smile fades. “Do you think I’m not aware every moment that that monster is out there hunting for me?”
“Don’t call her that,” Max snaps.
“Sorsha is Amba’s sister, which makes her our sister,” Thea says more gently.
“And,” Max goes on, “she’s hunting you because you murdered her mother. You remember her mother, don’t you, Suya? The one who saved Amba from our father? You know the only reason Sorsha has to live with her terrible curse is because Devaki saved Amba and Amba saved the rest of us.”
“The rest of us?” says Suya incredulously. “You’re not one of us. Valin’s been dead for a hundred years.”
“Suya,” Thea pleads.
“Stop it,” Amba snaps. “Suya, keep your mouth shut if you have nothing helpful to contribute.”
“Ah, of course, it’s always my fault,” Suya says bitterly. “Let’s pretend this was my doing, shall we?” He grinds his teeth. “We are all running out of time. Stars have gone out. Soon, it’ll be our sun. And that impending doom is not because I accidentally killed Devaki. It’s because they—” here he points at Max and Kirrin “—made the mistake of falling in love with two mortals and helped them—”
“Sorsha was a mistake,” Kirrin cuts in. “My mistake. I would never have released her if I hadn’t been certain I could keep her in check. I was wrong. I was reckless with her life, and with every life in the galaxy. I hurt Amba. And I am sorry. If I could take it back, I would. But I can’t.”
“Exactly.” Tyre pushes himself off the wall. “If we survive this, Suya, we’ll have centuries to fight with Kirrin about his foolishness. For now, we need to focus on Sorsha. Amba, can we get her back to Anga?”
Amba’s hands twist in her lap. Thea lays one of her own hands on Amba’s and squeezes gently. Amba looks up at Tyre. “No,” she says. “Not unless she goes of her own free will, which she won’t. I was the only one who had the power to force Sorsha to go back to Anga. I have no power now.”
“And we can thank a mortal for that, too,” Suya seems unable to resist pointing out. “Arcadia is ash. The laws of righteous warfare were broken. And in the midst of that chaos, the only god who could have stopped Sorsha before she devours our galaxy lost her immortality. How much harm do the twins have to do before you turn your backs on them for good?”
Kirrin smiles beatifically. “We’ll be sure to let you know if that threshold is ever reached.”
“Well, at least it’s a moot point for one of them,” Suya replies. Turning his attention to Max, he says, not very unhappily, “I don’t think I’ve offered you my condolences, brother. Such a pity.”
A muscle jumps in Max’s jaw. He looks like he’s seconds away from depriving Suya of his own immortality. I, for one, would not object.
“Enough,” says Amba.
Suya crosses his arms over his chest again. “Very well. If you want me to contribute something useful to this discussion, allow me to point out that it’s not too late to save this galaxy. If we can’t get Sorsha back to Anga, there is one other way to stop her.”
Nobody replies. Tyre, Thea, and Kirrin can’t seem to meet Amba’s eye, but Max watches her for a moment and then says, “No.”
“A ridiculous response,” says Suya scathingly. “What other solution is there, pray tell? Killing Sorsha is the only option we have left. I regret that it will cause you a great deal of grief, Amba, but you must see that there is no other way.”
“But this isn’t Sorsha’s fault,” Kirrin protests. “Alex and I did this. Punishing her for our recklessness isn’t fair.”
“You’re right,” says Suya. “It’s not fair at all, yet thanks to you, here we are. Do you think I take any pleasure in the idea of killing the last great beast left in this universe? Believe it or not, I do not. And yes, I am concerned about my own welfare, but must I point out yet again that we will all perish if she carries on like this?”
“I know,” Amba says softly. Her voice is steady, but her knuckles are white in her lap. “Much as it pains me to admit it, Suya’s right. There is no other way.”
There’s a heavy silence before Tyre breaks it. “How? Only one of the Seven can kill a great beast, and Ash vowed a long time ago that he would never allow a god to wield one of them again.”
Kirrin restrains himself for exactly five seconds before chiming in with: “And we all remember whose fault thatis, don’t we, Suya?”
“Kirrin,” Thea huffs. “Priorities, please.”
When Sorsha’s curse first manifested itself centuries ago, Ash, the destroyer and the keeper of the Temple of Ashma, gave Suya permission to use one of the first seven celestial weapons to kill her. Devaki shielded Sorsha from Suya and the golden sunspear, and he killed her instead. ...
We hope you are enjoying the book so far. To continue reading...
Copyright © 2024 All Rights Reserved
Please log in to recommend or discuss...
