Chapter 183

• Arius‘ s pov.
• Behind us, the ground thrummed; the others were not done with their conversations with the unseen. Dante’s features softened into a grief I would have mocked on any other day. Calipsa stood statue-still, lips moving in counter-spell or prayer. Dorian… Dorian’s eyes had the brittle shine of a man a breath away from shattering stone with his bare hands. Whatever the valley whispered, it had teeth for kings, too.
• “Freya,” I said, because I could feel the Mirror turning in its sleep, “we don’t have long. Are you truly ready for this?”