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Lidishta began to lower the forming nemak and the magic swirling around it deeper into the ground. She panted, grunting with effort. Down and down it went. Until Iryana couldn’t sense it anymore.

Then Lidishta collapsed in Vaneshta’s arms, her hands dropping.

“I can’t feel the magic anymore,” Lidishta gasped. “I think we did it.”

“Thank the gods!” Hadima cheered.

Then a blur of bright blue and red shot up from the pit and into the air.

They fell back, shouting in alarm as the nemak spread its wings, blade-like feathers of brilliant red and orange shining in the sunlight. Long tail whips danced in the wind.

Horror seized her, but instead of turning toward them, it shot off into the sky in the direction of the gods’ war. What had they done?

A snort of laughter had Iryana turning around.

Tenar lay on his back in the snow, bleeding out. But as he watched the great nemak flying away, he cackled. “Yes! I’ll see you soon, sister!”

Iryana couldn’t help but stare down at him in horror, struggling to sit in Pyetar’s arms. “You sacrificed your own sister to make that thing?”

He coughed, blood splattering his chin. “Everything I’ve sacrificed, everything I’ve done, will all be worth it soon.” Tenar spasmed and went still.

They were all quiet for a moment, still reeling from what had happened. The tonic was helping her magic start to settle at least, the pain lessening to a dull throb.

Pyetar ripped the shredded bits of coat away from Tenar’s body until his torso was bared to the cold, already turning a gray-blue. It was hard to see his tattoos between the gaping wounds and blood, but Iryana could pick out the pure metal-forged marks, and the blended maroon ones. But that wasn’t the surprising part.

Tenar had a sigil like Iryana’s on his chest, but it wasn’t one of Thelbiz’s. It belonged to Noshtiz.

Iryana thought of the betrayal Mhakiza had felt in that memory of confronting Noshtiz about his true plans. He had probably lied, told her what she wanted to hear. He likely did the same to Tenar. She felt the smallest trace of pity for him.

“Gross.” Misha scrunched her nose at the mutilated body.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Lidishta asked.

Iryana groaned, her head pounding. What could they do? Nothing.

She climbed to her feet and started pacing.

“Is there any way to warn the gods?” Pyetar asked, fingers grazing over Thelbiz’s mark.

“I don’t know, I can try but…” Iryana winced, she couldn’t keep it a secret anymore. She waited for his disappointment.

“Thelbiz actually tried to summon me earlier…”

He was quiet for a moment, brows pulled together in surprise. But when he spoke, his voice was soft.

“We’ve been a bit occupied getting Lidi back.”

“No.” Iryana took a deep breath. “He tried to summon me right after we got to the caves.”

She braced herself for their anger, for their accusations. Ones to match the ones she slung at herself. Perhaps this was what Thelbiz was calling her about, and they would have had time to stop it if she’d listened. She’s been so sure she couldn’t help them, but having seen the nemak flying toward the war, she realized she had been plenty able to make things worse.

“It’s okay, Iri.” Hadima squeezed her hand. “I would have ignored it too.”

Iryana frowned at her sister, but Hadima didn’t look the slightest bit angry. Iryana looked around at the others. None of them seemed to be angry. Didn’t they understand?

“If the gods really wanted—” The shaking ground cut Pyetar off.

They rode out the earthquake, the sound of rockfall echoing ominously off the cliff wall in the distance.