“And incur her wrath?” Mercer scoffed, wiping the oil from the skysailer’s engines off his hands and onto his trousers. “The ruins have been off-limits since the Plague. Cynth and I might be betrothed, but she would kill me if she knew I went out here.”

“No, she wouldn’t.”

“No, no, she would,” Nicholii agreed. “She’s terrifying.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Mercer chided. He came over beside Nicholii, took the piece of charcoal out of Nic’s hand, and scratched out the NICH in Nicholii and put DICK. He gave his friend a shit-eating grin and handed him back the charcoal. “Why don’t you call your father?”

“Pff! And have the royal guard scolding me for the rest of my life? I think not.”

“Cynthia’s our best option,” Di added.

The memory was like a bright flare in his head—Nicholii tossing the piece of charcoal to him, and Mercer rolling up his sleeves with his greasy fingers, and Selena sunbathing on a thousand-year-fallen pillar, and—

“Where’s Marigold?” Di asked, glancing around the ruins.

Selena pointed deeper into the shrine. “She went exploring—and Mercer, I think everyone’s right. Cynthia’s our best bet.”

“I refuse to . . .” Mercer went on a rant about why Cynthia would be the worst person to call to come fetch them, but Di tuned him out as he went to go look for Marigold. He wandered deeper into the shrine, into a circular back room with a dry fountain in the middle. There were tiles on the walls, murals depicting the plight of the Goddess and her age-old battle with the Great Dark, faded and crumbling with time. It was a marvel that it was still here at all.

He found Marigold on the far side of the circular room, standing in front of an enormous iron door. The lock was so intricate, it curved in and out of itself up the flat surface of the door, and he imagined it would turn like a great machine work—cogs interlocking with each other and teeth turning. It looked a little like a map of the Iron Kingdom.

Marigold traced the circular lock where some sort of round and jagged key went. She did not hear him until he accidentally kicked a fallen tile, and she glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes focused.

“Oh—Di. I didn’t hear you.”

“Evidently.” He came up beside her, studying the door. “What is this?”

Mari turned her gaze back to the circular shape where a key went and shook her head. “I don’t know, but I feel . . . like I know this place.” A laugh bubbled up from her throat. “Isn’t that silly?”

“Perhaps in another life?” he asked.

She laughed in earnest this time. “Perhaps,” she agreed, and turned her gaze back to the door. “I just feel . . . peaceful here. Like someday it’ll bring me good things. And I’ll be happy.” She surprised herself by wiping a tear from her eye. “Goddess, I swear I’m not crying!”