“This is far too much assuming to be healthy,” Gerel muttered.

“Then the empire—or the land they’ve taken over—has had the bones longer than the Fallen Isles did. Why should we expect anyone to give us the bones because we ask nicely?”

That was a fair question. Zara and Ilina were both very persuasive people, but Damina’s charm wouldn’t change someone’s mind about something they weren’t already willing to do; it only made it easier to say yes. Any other method of obtaining the bones involved violence, theft, or bargaining away something valuable. Like our sovereignty.

“I suppose,” I said softly, “that’s a conversation to have when we get more information. There’s no point in making a hundred plans for a hundred different scenarios.”

Aaru pulled The Book of Silence toward him and flipped through the soft papers; they barely made a sound. “‘The greatest calamity,’” he read, “‘comes in the night, when the people are not listening.’”

Hristo closed his book, marking the page with his thumb. “Is that about the Great Abandonment?”

Aaru nodded solemnly. “I’ve thought about Idris’s words a lot since the earthquake. I wished I could read them again. To find answers.” His voice was rough with unshed tears. “I read from my family’s copy every day at home. I didn’t think I’d see one again. Least of all here.”

Under the table, I pressed my foot against his.

A beat of quiet lingered in the small library before Gerel said, “That’s a good idea. Seven gods know I haven’t been a good follower of Khulan. Maybe I could learn something.”

Chenda frowned and touched Gerel’s chin. “Khulan saw fit to grant you incredible strength, even away from him. You’re a truer follower than most.”

Gerel looked dubious, but also like she didn’t want to risk being comforted in public anymore, so she just shrugged. Still, she pulled The Book of Warriors to her and opened it on top of the history she’d been reading.

On the other side of the table, Ilina and Zara put The Book of Love between them, while the others moved the books of their gods closer, too.

The Book of Destruction lay at the end of the table, untouched. Feeling bad for it, I dragged the volume to me. I’d read it before—I’d read all of them before—but the lessons on other gods had been cursory, and long ago. My religious studies had focused mainly on Darina and Damyan, although I had asked why, as the Hopebearer, I wasn’t more thoroughly instructed on others’ beliefs. Mother had only said they weren’t as important as our own.

Still, those lessons had given me just enough to remember that The Book of Destruction had several long passages devoted to the Great Abandonment. Of course. As the goddess of destruction, Anahera would have a lot to say on the subject of our ultimate end.

As we lost ourselves in the words of our Fallen Gods, a quiet fell over the table: the rustle of paper, the occasional sigh where words twisted with emotion, and then a small gasp.