“You fucking bitch!” I scream at the sky until my voice gives out. When I can’t scream anymore, I pound my fists against the earth. Finally, I fall quiet, breathing heavily as I push my hair back from my face. This isn’t getting me anywhere.

I stand up and brush off my leggings, but there’s little point. I’m filthy and ragged, and now I’m here without food or water or any idea of where I am.

I’ve lost Nadir.

That’s when my gaze snags on a dark object nestled in the grass. My breath catches as I stagger over and drop to my knees, picking up the ark of The Woodlands, carved with Zerra’s likeness holding the Staff.

I did it.

I intended to break out of that room but also to take some of it with me, including the arks. I can’t believe it worked. Frantically, I search through the trees and bushes. The debris forms a wide circle of marble and stone, and I lose track of the time it takes to collect them all as the sun passes overhead.

Eventually, I gather all four arks. The same one I stole from Alluvion, along with those of Celestria and Tor. Clutching them to my chest, I peer up at the sky, unable to believe my dumb luck.

But Zerra will come for these. Whether she knows of the Empyrium’s plans to replace her is now secondary. She spent centuries hunting these down, and now, with one fell swoop, they’re in my hands.

A sob chokes from my chest. I wish so badly Nadir were here. He’d know what to do.

What do I do?

Aphelion.

It was always my destination. I’ve lost my mate, and an unhinged god wants my head on a pike. I need to go to my safe place. The one thing that has always been my home. I have to find Willow and Tristan.

CHAPTER 26

NADIR

Ipick up a chair and hurl it at the window with all of my strength. It smashes apart, landing in a pile of splinters, but it has no effect. Still, I stare at the wreckage with a sense of grim satisfaction.

I’ve been at this for days. Ever since I saw Lor in Zerra’s mirror. I’ve screamed myself hoarse, demanding to be let out. My magic is powerless against the walls and windows of this room, simply dissipating or ricocheting off the surface, so I’ve resorted to less elegant means.