“Serve a darker god,” Rhiannon said, her voice lowering. “They have tainted the sacred language, turned it against the very fabric of creation.”
“The Dark Lady,” he said.
“Yes,” Rhiannon said. She pushed herself away from the counter and walked over to them, sidling onto the bench next to Devon. He seemed to shrink away from her, but if Rhiannon noticed, she didn’t acknowledge it. “The Dark Lady was human once, but She wrapped herself up in the words of gods that were best left forgotten. That knowledge changed her into something more. She became a vessel for something darker, a power that had been lying in wait.”
“But She’s dead,” Tenn said. “She died after creating the Kin. The Church killed her. Now, She’s just a story.”
“You can’t kill a god, Tenn,” Rhiannon said. “The mortal we know as the Dark Lady may have died, but the gods She served, the forces that worked through her—and perhaps even the consciousness She embodied—those live on.”
He suppressed the shudder that wanted to rack him: he knew the Dark Lady lived on. He’d felt her, in his dreams, and in the runes he’d seen carved into her artifacts.
“What can you tell us about the runes?” he asked. The sooner he got what they were looking for, the sooner he could end this nightmare. “How do we use them to kill her minions?”
Rhiannon sighed.
“We do not use magic for violence, Tenn. That is what got us into this mess, and nonviolence is the core of our faith. In that regard, we cannot help you. But we can teach you what we do know of the runes. And perhaps, if the spirits wish to speak through you as they said, they will teach you themselves.
“Tomorrow,” she said. “It is far too late to begin your studies. Besides, our translator is out in the woods right now, doubling our defenses. You three have brought quite an army our way. We must ensure our lines hold up.”
“Sorry,” Tenn said. The rage from before faltered in an instant, all under the reminder that now he was the reason people were dying. The Dark Lady wanted him.
Rhiannon reached out and patted his hand.
“Never apologize for being hunted,” she said. “We have been on the lookout ever since we settled here last summer. The sept nearby has been very active lately. Inquisitors roaming the woods, children missing... These are dark days.”
“Why would you put yourselves in danger by moving here?” he asked.
“Because the spirits told us this is where we would find you. We go where the gods will.” She sighed and leaned back in her chair. “I’m sure you are tired, but I’m afraid we have no room in our trailers for guests. There’s a tent by the fire. It should keep you warm enough.”
Tenn wanted to demand more information. He didn’t want to sleep. No, he didn’t want to sleep alone. Not that he ever would, with Matthias or Tomás peering into his head. But he’d somehow eaten all the soup, and with every passing moment the warmth and exhaustion seeped through his limbs. Earth rumbled in his pelvis—he needed to rest. If he was to have any chance of killing Matthias, he needed to be at full strength.
“It’s more than enough,” Tenn said. He looked at the twins, who were still staring at their bowls of soup. Neither had tasted a drop. Earth almost made him ask for their portions. “Thank you for the hospitality.”
“Of course, Tenn,” Rhiannon said. “In the morning, you’ll find the answers you seek. Sleep well.”
Tenn nodded and stood, the twins only a beat behind.
“Thank you again,” he said.
“It is we who should be thanking you, Tenn,” Rhiannon said. She watched them leave from the doorway.
He wanted to ask her what she meant.
The majority of him didn’t want to know.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
TENN WOKE EARLY, but a quick glance around the tent told him he wasn’t the first to rise. Devon was missing, though Dreya was still fast asleep.
He slipped from the tent and stood by the edge of the fire, the snow drifting around his ankles in a breeze. It was a clear day, and fresh snow blazed white in the bright morning air. It looked beautiful—frost on the trailer windows, snow against tires and sloping on roofs. No Tomás in the night, no Matthias in his dreams—at least, not that he could remember. Even the weight of Jarrett’s death seemed lighter, though that didn’t actually make him feel any better.
He didn’t want to forget. He wouldn’t.
Devon sat on the opposite side of the fire pit, his legs crossed and body turned toward the rising sun. Fire flickered in his chest, and sparks danced about like motes of dust, the heat melting a perfect circle in the snow around him. A part of Tenn wanted to walk over and try to talk, but he had a feeling that would be a mistake. If meditating was the only thing keeping the rage of Fire in check, Tenn wouldn’t do anything to interfere.
The door of the trailer behind him opened and Rhiannon stepped out, a thick quilt wrapped around her. She smiled when she saw him, then caught sight of Devon. The smile slipped as she walked up beside Tenn.
“He is deeply hurt,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” Tenn replied.
“Do you know why?” she asked.
He shook his head. Even though their voices were muted, they still carried in the thin morning air. If Devon heard them, he didn’t show it.
“You hurt, as well,” she said. “You, most of all.”
Tenn shrugged. “We all do,” he replied, but his words didn’t carry the resoluteness he wanted. He was quickly growing tired of all these people seeing inside his head, speaking like they were from some other century. Rhiannon shuffled her quilt tighter around her. She smelled like wildflowers.
“You lost someone dear to you,” she said. It wasn’t a question, and the statement hung on the air like a specter.
“How do you know? Did the spirits tell you?”
She looked at him. He’d expected the bitterness to cut, but she just smiled softly. “No. It may as well be tattooed on your face. I know you don’t fully trust us or our beliefs—not many do—but I have lived long enough to know one thing: pain is what lets us know we are alive. Without it, we are ghosts. Accept it as a gift. It will give you strength. Otherwise, pain will consume you, and then you risk losing sight of what life has granted you.” She looked at her trailer briefly, then went back to staring at the trees. “I’ll introduce you to Luke after breakfast. He’s quite excited to meet the three the gods have been speaking of.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “You, especially. Our Circle is soon. You are welcome to join if you’d like.”
“What’s a Circle?” he asked.
She smiled. “You will find out.”