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Is that what an older sibling does? I'll have to ask Mace.
"They're right, Solarius," I say, glaring at him. "I am not above anyone. This is my inner circle. I value all of their opinions equally." I don't catch the words he mumbles under his breath, and I choose not to pursue them. His tone tells me enoughabout what they could have been.
"Jaz raises a valid point," Morrow says with a sigh. "We don't know what we're going to do. You cannot move all of us in a shadow vision because if what Taegan and Cirrha say is true, it'll wear you out fairly quickly."
"If there is enough devotion, I should be able to keep her replenished," Zeph says, looking up from the journal. "But you're right in that it is not ideal. That devotion would be better spent elsewhere."
"We're going to have to command some beasts. That's the best plan I can think of," Plume says. "Now that Viola has Spring magic, mine feels stronger than ever. I think I could do it."
"Why is that?" Jaz asks, looking at me curiously. "How can you having magic increase hers?"
Zeph looks up from the journal as if to speak, but I interrupt. "Best as I can tell is that now that I possess that magic, some of the devotion towards me has been used to boost it. The original fae were created through the devotion that Gods left behind when they were banished."
"Does that mean you're acting as a conduit for us?" Cirrha asks, crossing one leg over the other. She wears short white shorts, which contrast with her smooth dark skin, making her legs appear impossibly long. "Like Zeph acts for you?"
"I'm not sure," I answer honestly. "I think it's just that the devotion can now be attuned to that magic, so to speak, which means some of it is available for the fae." I don't mention that ifthat devotion is depleted, there is no magic left for the fae.
No one likes to be told they're living off scraps.
"So between you, Plume, and the Bloomtide, do you think that is enough Spring magic to command beasts to get us all to Ytopie?" Taegan's voice fills the amphitheater, drawing my attention immediately. Since arriving here, the bags under his eyes have lessened, and his skin has lost most of its waxy pallor.
"Theoretically," Plume replies.
"And that brings us back to the ritual," I say. "Zeph, can you read it out loud and tell us what you've figured out?"
Holding up the journal, Zeph recites the riddle Tieron hid in his journal. "'A recipe for rebirth: A true sacrifice. A true yearning. A true intent. Combine with fervent devotion.' " I wrinkle my nose at the words, which mean nearly nothing to me. Zeph folds the journal gently and places it before him. "Here's where my brain has been at with this. A recipe means you have to combine it all to get what you want, so I think all of this has to be done simultaneously."
"It makes sense to me, but I've never been much of a cook," Tulip says, her voice light with humor. Today, she wears ecru pants and a light green top, her hair in twin plaits. For once, she looks her age, and it brings a smile to my face. Being in Rainworth has been good for her.
"But what are the 'ingredients'?" Jaz says, ruffling their bright red hair.
"That's where I'm not so sure I'm on the right track," Zeph admits, glancing at Plume and Mace. "Tieron goes on a bit in the journal about what atrue sacrifice is and how it's not just a secret or confession. He believed a sacrifice was giving up a part of yourself."
"So I need to sacrifice a part of myself?" I ask, wary. "What do I have to sacrifice? I gotta be honest here, I'm not keen on losing a limb."
"I wouldn't recommend it," Morrow quips. Tulip sputters out a laugh, and the tension breaks momentarily.
"Is there a part of you that is so sacred to you that you've never shared it with anyone?" Mace asks softly, pulling my attention back to the task at hand.
My eyes meet his, the green of them dull and glassy with contained emotion, and as if I can read his mind, I can see what he's suggesting, what he's implying.
I can feel what he is about to suggest in my bones, and I take a large step back, away from him.
"Viola, wait," he says, approaching me like I am a wounded animal.
"No, I've told you about that," I hiss under my breath. "You know about it. There would be no sacrifice."
"I know about it. I don't know what actually happened. How you felt. The act of it," he says quietly.
"How is that a true sacrifice?" I hiss.
Zeph, clearly knowing what Mace is suggesting, speaks softly. "Tieron went on and on about sacrifice. About how the main reason they," he flits his hand twords the two Gods in attendance, "wanted to banish Himureal was because he felt like requiring sacrifice wasn'tnecessary. But the others held firm in their beliefs that devotion is stronger with a sacrifice."
"You want me to tell you all the gory details? Share them with everyone?" The sadness on his face makes me worry that's not what he's suggesting at all.
"Will someone share what these two are talking about?" Avidor, who was mostly silent up until this point, glares at Mace. "Or should we leave so the lovers can have a conversation on their own?"
Mace opens his mouth, and it's like I can see the venom about to roll off his tongue, so I speak up, stopping the pissing contest sure to happen. "I was assaulted … raped … my first year in the Race. Mace is suggesting that my sacrifice be to relive it. Isn't that right, my love?" I can't help the anger that bleeds into my last two words, and Mace flinches away from me.
