The room was lit in luminous crystals. They flickered like a heartbeat, an eb and flow of kaleidoscopic shine. Caidil moved his hands over them, gathering their ancient power, feeling the way it flowed into his veins, braiding together with undiluted gold.

The god tried not to linger on how its power had already weakened, if only slightly.

He moved to the wall that was only stone, and his fingers traced a pattern of letters. They were branded into his mind, cursing him with Evîn's voice, over and over again.

𐏂𐎧𐎤 𐎼𐎨𐎫𐎫 𐎠𐎭𐎣 𐎨𐏂𐎽 𐎼𐎨𐎫𐎫 𐎯𐎨𐎤𐎱𐎢𐎤

Staring down at his arm, he watched how the symbols reappeared on indigo skin. It was a would-be comfort, to trace the lines and the grooves, the prophecies that found a home in him.

He always avoided Evîn's.

He avoided this, too.

''That is all?'' Zilar asked from beside him, watching the words, dissecting them like each line was another turn in the path out of the labyrinth.

''That is all,'' Caidil said, Evîn's voice echoing in his mind. How he wished the words had been as soothing as they had been in Evîn's life. How he wished to hear the god's laughter, instead of seething fury. ''For now.''

Tension had wound itself tight like a noose, and he wanted to pry his fingers underneath the rope, creating a gap as to stop it from cutting. He looked at Nieba, who lounged against downy pillows, the tattoos on her dark skin glowing white. Glowing ivory. As ivory as her wings that grazed the floor. When she met his gaze, the rope loosened. The voice quieted.

She was his salvation.

''We have time.'' Ixtilaf, as calm as the shadows that rested on his shoulders. ''We cannot afford to be hasty. Only one of them was prophesied.''

''Yes, and how are we supposed to find the one if we stay here?'' Taniyn asked, her dress like ember flames as she crossed her arms. They mimicked the flames in her eyes, the ones that licked at the edges of her hair, inching closer to her skin.

''Have you not had enough fun with them?'' Ixtilaf said, eyes moving over Taniyn like a scythe, slicing her open from top to bottom.

She seemed unbothered by it, flicking her hair over her shoulder. ''Don't give me that look, Ixtilaf. It is not my fault none of you thought to do the same. Besides, it was only one of them. There are still others I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting.'' She leaned forward, draping herself over him, arms loosely around his neck. ''But you know you'll always be my favourite.''

Ixtilaf set his jaw, and looked away from her, but did nothing to move her off of him.

''Oh, but wasn't it wonderful to see them all together? Each string of faith palpable between them like a prism of stars. And did you see the way he looked at her?'' Itri asked, delighted as she thought of the assembly at the courtyard, as if there hadn't already been blood spilled.

Beside him, Zilar moved, walking over to Itri's side. He reached down and seized her hand in his, brushing his lips against her star-touched knuckles. ''My dear star, have you forgotten what they're here for?''

His words seemed to pull Itri out of her dreams of Anunnaki and star-crossed love. She blinked at him, and the galaxies in her eyes dimmed. ''I suppose, for a moment, I had.''

''They are special, aren't they?'' Nieba asked, though it wasn't much of a question, as she wielded the words with her soft tone. She was staring, staring into the distance, staring into a space where he could not reach her. Where gold flowed into the earth, where feathers frayed and where the trees lost their leaves.

His fingers itched, begging to reach for her.

''He is special. I could sense it the moment I laid eyes on him.''

At that, Ixtilaf's shadows stirred, their form a starless sky pressed into a meandering river. They slithered over the ground, pooling around Nieba's feet.

A feather fell from her wings.

''Do you think he — ''

Caidil cut through his path. ''He's not Evîn,'' he said, and the fierceness in his voice seemed to surprise even her. She'd never heard such fire in his tone, as if Taniyn had breathed it across his words herself.

Thorns, again.

Thorns which had pulled her away from that space, violently yanking her back. His fingers grazed his throat, as if he could feel the sharpness within. Nieba stared at him, and when she stood, she walked past him without a word.

How would you comfort her, my friend?

''Well,'' Taniyn said, her bow and arrow appearing onto her shoulder in a shimmer of gold. Pulling away from Ixtilaf, she smiled. It had always been her way of defusing the tension, that brilliant smile of hers.

It had never worked on Caidil.

''We have kept the Anunnaki waiting long enough. Shall we?''

Darkness clouded her vision. It was a fanged monster inside her chest, digging into her lungs each time she took a breath, claiming the bones of her ribcage as its own twisted home.

Naenia hated feeling like she wasn't in control. And that was all he evoked from her, awakening a part of her that was wounded and hidden, that was small and afraid.

When she saw him, she was a young girl again. She hated it.

It leaked from her and constricted her, a lake of tar pulling her under. Naenia clawed at her chest, the music a distant sound in her ear, the surrounding chattering muffled as if she was placed in a glass cage, and she could do nothing but fight to breathe.

''Fuck,'' she muttered, the edges of her vision darkening. She squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them again, the music had stopped. Her chest was heaving as flames flickered, and voices distorted to something insidious. The ballroom had morphed into something made entirely of darkness. It leaked from the ceiling, and it dropped onto the floor in scarlet red.

Naenia shook her head, one hand braced against a wall as the other pressed down onto her battered heart.

Shadows wrapped around her wrists, and a voice brushed against the shell of her ear.

The god whispered, ''breathe.''

It rocked through her. It twisted, and it pulled. She wanted to resist.

''Breathe.''

She obeyed, following the cadence of his voice, the rhythm of her breathing slowly calming. It was a torrent coming to a halt, and just as suddenly as it had shifted, the room was normal again. Gold, loud, and too fucking bright.

''Good,'' Ixtilaf murmured, still standing close, so close all she could smell was smoke. ''We wouldn't want that power of yours to mess with everyone, do we? Not yet, at least. Not like you've done before.''

Naenia pulled herself away from the god, as violently as knife met skin. When had the gods entered?

She didn't need to turn around to see the expression on his face. The recognition in those smoke-and-shadow eyes. When he had stood in her house, she'd already known he had heard every one of her prayers. That he had been there, each time she allowed herself to be led by the drums of his wrath, beating in tandem with her heart.

Had it not been the blade of his retribution that she had pressed to Icharen's throat?

''I don't need your help,'' Naenia bit out, slipping out of his shadows, pushing past Anunnaki whose faces she didn't bother looking at. Only when she was at the other end of the room did she allow herself to stop, reaching for an empty goblet that immediately filled itself with an unknown liquid.

Naenia didn't care to pause and wonder what it was. She downed it in one go, relishing in the burn in her throat.

''It's only the first night, Nae.''

She hadn't seen Ilari, but she should have known he'd be there, lingering near the walls, listening with his hand on the smooth surface. Those of Buyan had never been the sorts to mingle, to pry themselves open for others to gaze at, to smile and laugh as if the world didn't seek to destroy them.

''What else do you expect me to do? Dance?'' She waited for her goblet to refill, and turned to lean back against the table, facing the dance floor. Her hands were still shaking. She was glad Ilari couldn't see.

''If you were to dance, the gods would have truly accomplished something historic. Then again, I didn't expect Erra to join the dancing throngs, and yet he surprises me.''

''Erra?''

There he was, moving through the room with ease, carving a path with leather and smoke. Naenia watched as he approached one of the Anunnaki, the red-haired girl, who was cradling a metallic butterfly in her hands. It looked limp, where before, she had seen it spun joy in the crown of her hair. She chewed on her lip, eyes wide with an emotion Naenia was intimately familiar with. Saw it reflected in each surface of her home.

Grief.

And even from that distance, she saw how Erra revelled in it. He was a shark, smelling blood — he was the wolf prowling the dark depths of a forest. The kind of creature your mother warned you about.

He said something to the tattooed man with her, who barely spared him a second look. Instead, he glanced down at the girl, seeming to seek an answer from her. She nodded when Erra turned his attention to her.

And then he touched her. It was a brief touch, a hand on her lower arm, right above where her bandages ended. For a moment, the girl flinched, and the man tensed. But then she smiled at Erra before turning to the other Anunnaki. She carefully placed the limp butterfly in his hands, and Naenia almost laughed at how confused he looked, how he frowned down at it like he didn't know what to do with the thing she had entrusted him with.

Erra extended his hand, and she took it. They walked to the centre of the ballroom together, and Naenia looked away. Her fingers brushed the mark on her neck, there where a bruise blossomed on her pale skin. A mark he had left, biting her, devouring her, listening to every breathy command.

She put her goblet down. ''I'm going to check on my mother.''

She was gone before Ilari could respond.

All her life, Daeva had been told to listen.

It had been a whispered secret in her ear, carried in her bones with every step she took. Listen and look. Look and listen. Every word wielded as a sword, every word spoken by a lover, every word was worth something.

Feytor told her to pay attention, and she did.

Feytor told her to glean a piece of information from a conversation that seemed simple, and she found the secrets that lurked underneath, like cracks underneath a sturdy foundation.

All it took was a little nudge from her, and she could unearth all that hid in the shadows.

So that was what she did.

Would the gods want someone good? This, she could do. This, she had always done. Craft herself a mask of sweetness, hide behind the stitches she put in the dresses of the rich in Abalus. Even when Nieba had come to fetch her and the other two from Abalus, she had maintained her sweet smile, had tried to speak to the goddess in the chirps of a joyous bird.

The goddess' focus seemed elsewhere.

''Look at them,'' Rhodys breathed as the gods moved around the ballroom. Even now, Rhodys and her mushrooms seemed one and the same. They sprouted from the linings in her dress and had found a home in her hair and on her hands.

Daeva hid her distaste for how Rhodys looked behind a smile. Her gaze followed Rhodys', watching how the gods seemed to pull the energy in the room towards themselves.

They had changed. When they had first seen the gods, they had been human. Close to human, in the way they looked. Being in Limuria seemed to shift them into their truer form. Taniyn looked like she did in the tales; a dragon and a woman in one, with scales on her skin and horns sprouting from her head. She looked beautiful, like a flame did in its hypnotic way.

Daeva wondered how she'd look in her divinity.

''Do you think her flames burn?'' Rhodys wondered aloud, her gaze fixated on Taniyn, hands moving in her lap as if she itched to touch the goddess.

''Don't even think about it,'' Dhyana warned, seemingly accustomed to the mushroom Anunnaki's strange antics. The moment the gods had entered, Dhyana had sat up a little straighter, and while Rhodys marvelled at all of them, Dhyana only had eyes for one goddess.

Nieba's face was otherworldly, her wings trailing behind her. Something had shifted in her features, making her look avian. Her ears were pointed, ending in a gold-tipped feather. Dhyana's fingers plucked at the pelican stitching on her dress.

She was sure she was hoping to be noticed by the goddess.

''I'm sure she won't mind if you ask, Rhodys,'' Arevik said mildly, as tranquil as she had been on her arrival. Rhodys shot her a beaming smile, reaching out to briefly touch Arevik's long hair. When she pulled back, a flower sprouted where her fingers had brushed her, to match the emerald shades of her dress.

''For being lovely. And for joining me once I gather my courage to talk to Taniyn?''

Arevik smiled. ''I'll think about it.''

They were already forming connections, and Daeva thought them fools for it. Everywhere around them, the Anunnaki had let their guards down. No longer faceless or nameless people from the stories — Daeva had made sure to learn their names, memorizing them, trying to gather hints of what their power could be.

Some of them seemed to be tight-lipped.

On the dance floor, Jasia Odajick and Marcus Agosti had been dancing for several songs. But when the gods entered, Jasia had looked distracted. Now, she stepped away from the other Anunnaki, ending their dance in a bow. When she held her skirts to scurry away, Daeva thought her gaze seemed oddly fixed on the god of the sea.

Idiots — what had the gods done for them to deserve their admiration?

She supposed she could ask herself a similar question. When Daeva had stood in her room, she had wondered why she had agreed to come. Why she was there, competing for something she had never wanted.

Perhaps she could learn something, at the very least. And she would leave once she had enough. This she could do.

''Excuse me.''

A soft voice made the four girls look up. Livia Thuarin, standing before them in a dress the same shade as Daeva's. Briefly, Livia's eyes flickered down to Daeva's billowing skirts and similar bodice, distaste gleaming in her gaze before she softened it with a smile. The other girls might not have noticed, but Daeva did.

Daeva always did. And she was glad she had chosen the dress she had.

''Do you girls mind if I join you?''

Arevik had tensed, her hand tightening around her cup. She looked away from Livia, turning in her seat and towards Rhodys as if she was forming a barricade with her body.

Daeva watched the silent interaction with a heightened sense of curiosity. ''Not at all. Sit,'' she said with a smile, gesturing to the empty seat next to Dhyana.

Livia sat down, and Arevik remained quiet.

An itch rose within Daeva, an itch to know what had transpired between the two girls, what it was that wove into the tension between them.

Dhyana seemed to notice as well. Dhyana, however, did not seem to care.

''Feathers,'' she observed as she leaned forward, brushing her fingers over the skirt of Livia's dress. She had done the same with Daeva, who had a similar feathered pattern on her skirt. ''For Nieba?''

''What?'' Livia glanced down, and laughed airily. It seemed practised, that laugh, like she had spent hours perfecting it. It flowed from her with the melody of a song, and yet it lacked the genuine notes of it being bard-sung. ''Oh, I suppose so. If I'm being honest, I just thought it looked pretty.''

''I see,'' Dhyana said, leaning back, maintaining that perfect posture. The pelican on her dress seemed to move with her, proud and strong. ''Do you think yourself above Our Lady?''

Livia blinked, taken aback by the sudden severity in Dhyana's voice. She glanced at the other girls, gaze lingering on Arevik. Arevik took another sip of her drink, pointedly looking away from her.

She shook her head. ''No, not in the slightest. I simply didn't think anything of the dress beyond its beauty.''

Daeva could sense a lie lurking underneath her words.

Or perhaps it was not the lie of a girl who thought herself better, but the half-truth of a girl who thought herself equal. Anyone who looked at Livia Thuarin could see it, the way she held herself to be above the rest of them. The way she moved as though the stones in the floor yielded for her and her alone, carving a path for her towards godhood.

Dhyana had said as much when they had first entered the ballroom, following Livia's movements. Daeva wasn't sure why she had fixated on the girl, but she had watched the girls interact briefly once they had left the courtyard. Apparently, their rooms were next to each other.

Perhaps Dhyana knew more than she had said.

''I've decided,'' Rhodys announced, standing to her feet in a sudden and swift movement. Livia seemed glad for the distraction, though Dhyana barely blinked.

''We can't be the only ones not dancing. Come!''

Daeva shook her head. ''I'm not much of a dancer, and I'm content watching.'' Content learning.

Dhyana didn't move either, folding her hands in her lap. ''No. It is time for our prayers.''

Rhodys looked incredulous at this statement, but decided not to press further, extending her hands towards Arevik instead. Livia had moved in her seat, looking like she might lean in towards Arevik, ask her to dance with her, her expression laying open.

Arevik put her cup down, and took Rhodys' hands. She had yet to spare Livia a glance.

''I'd love to.''

The two girls left in a flurry of movement, skirts swishing and voices echoing.

And Daeva watched as Livia clenched her hands into fists, looking like someone had taken what she thought to be hers.