Page 79 of Winds of Destiny

All of a sudden, my little cat god begins to grow. She expands, becoming bigger and stronger, teeth lengthening and fur thickening until her head is as high as mine. If it weren’t for the kindness in her eyes, I wouldn’t recognize her.

“My name is Rhianan,” she says in a voice I somehow know only I can hear. “Worry no more, my child. You’ve brought me to the right place at the right time.”

I stare at her in wonder as she inches closer and bumps her nose against mine. She then turns and does the same to Cam, who looks just as shocked as I do.

Before I can question her words, Rhianan leaps between us and runs for the altar.

Cam curses, and I grab his hand and run after my god, prepared to defend her from Embros and his snake, but she’s fast, too quick for them. By the time Embros finally sees her, it’s too late.

Rhianan is the third and final god to step onto the altar.

The sacrifices have been made, the gods are present, and the light surrounding the altar is such a bright, brilliant red that none of us can see through it.

The ritual has well and truly begun.

And Embros and Shevara are left outside it.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Cam

The altar is completely engulfed in red now, the three gods inside it visible only in the flashes of light that crackle through it every few seconds. It’s like there’s a lightning storm building in there, clouds of energy growing stronger by the second.

I don’t know the specifics of what this ritual is doing to the gods trapped on the altar, but Idosee that whatever is happening in there, Kai and Turo are completely lost to it. Their connections to their gods are intensely personal, far more personal than what I have with Ophiucas, and neither of them can look away from the beautiful, terrible spell playing out in front of us.

Someone else is watching, too, but he’s not lost to what’s going on.

On the contrary—Embros isfurious. He screams and beats his hands against the spell, throwing his power into it over and over in an attempt to stop what’s happening, but he can’t. Shevara hovers behind him like a deadly shadow, his body mimicking Embros’s movements.Bang, banggoes Embros’s hand on the spell, sparking red;thud, crashgoes Shevara’s tail, beating against the ground in time.

“It’s all wrong!” Embros shrieks. “All wrong, wrong—they’re not the right symbols!They’re not the right ones!”

I take advantage of his distraction to move closer and get a better look at Kai’s wounds. He’s black and blue everywhere Embros hit him, bleeding from his mouth and a cut over his eyebrow, not to mention the one on his throat, but he’s going to be all right.

“You’re a beautiful sight,” I tell him. I don’t even care that he isn’t hearing me, his eyes locked firmly on Carnuatu’s struggle. I want him to know that I’m here. We’re together now, all three of us. Nothing can break us apart now, not even—

“No gods without worshippers,” Embros mutters, staggering away from the altar. He doesn’t seem to see me, all his focus internal. “No gods without… It can still be stopped.” He lifts his head and focuses all his terrible attention on Turo, who’s standing a few feet from my side. “It can still be stopped,” he growls, and he extends his hand toward Turo. Shevara lunges, covering the ground far too quickly.

It hits me like a blow to the heart—Embros can stop the ritual by killing Turo. If he dies, then his god will vanish. And if Turo dies, I…

Fuck no!

I don’t have a weapon, but I don’t need one. I raise my arms and my power rises inside me, the force of a gale at my fingertips. It’s never been easier to summon the wind, and I use mine to blow Shevara back before the snake can close the distance and sink his fangs into Turo.

The gale catches the cobra’s hood like a sail, shooting him up into the air and far away from us. Embros watches his god bounce off the temple wall a hundred feet away. Whatever scrap of sanity was left in him leaves his face, perhaps forever, as it contorts into a grimace of violence and fury.

“Grrraaaaahhhhh!” Embros draws on his own power, poisonous green gathering between his hands. He builds up an enormous cloud of it and sends it straight toward us.

I call on the wind again, the action as easy as breathing now, and blow the poison back until it dissipates into nothingness.

The lightning inside the altar is getting faster, fiercer. The gods are being drawn together, compressed. It’s hard to tell them apart—a ram with wings, a lion turned black, a cat that goes from the size of my hand to practically filling the entire altar space all on its own. It’s so mesmerizing that I almost don’t notice the jet of bright green liquid coming at me until it’s here. Another summoned gust blows it away, spreading it across a thousand tiny droplets that hiss as they hit the floor.

Venom.It seems Shevara didn’t stay down for long.

I turn my wind on him once more and push him back, but the snake god has his hood tucked in tight to his body now. He learned his lesson, and he doesn’t go more than ten feet before he wraps his body around one of the pillars. The wind is intense, but so is his strength. I can’t pry him off.

Embros is ignoring me now. He’s in a posture of prayer, down on his knees, back arched and arms out in a semicircle around his head, a clear imitation of Shevara’s hood. His eyes are closed, every inch of him bent toward supporting his god…and it’s working.

Despite the powerful wind I’m bringing to bear on Shevara, the snake is gradually unwinding himself from the column. The god stays low to the floor, no rearing or displays of any kind as he slowly but steadily slinks across the stones toward me.

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