Amya appears with the arks in her arms and deposits them on the table in the center of the room, where they glitter faintly in the light. It’s hard not to feel the intangible power they give off. Bronte reaches out and picks up the ark of Tor, studying it.

“When I ascended, the Stone told me this existed, but Zerra has had it in her possession for a long time. I never expected to see it,” she says.

I notice D’Arcy peering at the pile like she doesn’t want to look but can’t help herself.

“And we need a High Priestess,” I say. “One who won’t kill me or drag me back to Zerra.”

Anemone shifts in her seat and clears her throat. I think she’s about to say something, but she remains silent.

“Where will you find a priestess?” Bronte asks. “It’s not like they’re walking around everywhere you look. It’s miles to their closest temple, and that’s assuming anyone will even help you.”

“She’s right,” Cedar adds. “If what you say about Cloris is accurate, then they probably will either kill you on sight or capture you for Zerra themselves. The legends say they can communicate with her.”

“Why should we do any of this?” D’Arcy interrupts. “This sounds like your fight. And that’s assuming I believe a word you’ve said.”

My shoulders sag.

“You don’t believe us?”

“It’s . . . impossible,” she says, repeating her earlier sentiment.

“Is it? Or do you just not want to believe it?”

She purses her lips together and folds her arms, not deigning to respond.

“Wow, you sure attract a lot of drama,” Anemone says, scanning me from head to toe.

“That’s me,” I say wryly. “I don’t want it. I don’t want to be a god. I want to reclaim my queendom and bond with my mate.”

“After everything you’ve told us, you cannot risk a bond!” D’Arcy says, slamming her hand on the armrest. “This is madness.”

“We weren’t asking for your permission,” I say.

“No, but you want our help,” she spits back.

“We will do whatever we can to help,” Elswyth says. “Cedar and I swore we’d assist with whatever you need, and that hasn’t changed.”

Relief untwists in my chest at those words.

“Really?”

“Really.”

She gives me a kind smile as Linden huffs.

“Enough,” Cedar says to his sister. “I do not hold the heirs of Heart responsible for Wolf’s choices. He stood by and let it happen, too. And these three certainly aren’t to blame for any of that.”

Linden’s eyes darken to the deepest shade of pine trees at midnight as she presses her mouth together so hard her lips turn bloodless.