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Rafe taps a spot on one of the maps. “A crypt. Under Cyphero’s temple.”

The chill running through me momentarily cools my anger. Cyphero, God of Hidden Knowledge. Notoriously enigmatic about his allegiances. “You think the scientist-priests were working in a crypt? Under a god’s temple?”

“We know they were. We have testimony from three separate sources, plus these.” Helene pushes forward a stack of parchments covered in cramped writing. “Records of supplies being delivered there over the past season. Equipment consistent with magical experimentation.”

I scan the list. Crystal rods, silver wire, specialized herbs, inks crafted from rare minerals. “What were they trying to do?”

Leesa clears her throat, drawing my attention. Her wavy hair is pulled back in a simple knot, her brown eyes troubled. “That’s what we were discussing when you arrived. We can’t be certain what they were researching, but,” she glances at Bastian, who nods encouragingly, “we believe it has something to do with the boundary between the mortal realm and the gods’ realm.”

“We don’t know if Cyphero sanctioned this research or not.” Bastian rubs his eyes. “We can’t figure out if he’s a good god or a bad god in all this.”

A harsh laugh scrapes my throat. Just hearing the words “a good god or a bad god” spoken aloud pitches my stomach. “Maybe they’re all bad. I mean, if we follow the gods, but the gods themselves don’t follow their own teachings, are any of them truly ‘good’?”

The room falls silent.

Even Rafe, never one to mince words, remains quiet and shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

“They’re all-powerful.” Bastian breaks the quiet, his voice gentle but firm. “And complicated. And we can’t risk showing favoritism to one and pissing off the others.”

I rest my palms on the table, staring at each of them in turn. “We can’t risk not going either.”

More glances are traded, along with more silent communication.

“Now?” Rafe’s eyebrows disappear into his hairline.

“Yes, now.” I straighten to my full height. Zeru’s surprise appearance worries me. We may not have as much time as we thought, so everything needs to happen faster. “Unless you have a more pressing engagement, Rafe?”

He has the grace to look abashed. “No, of course not. But perhaps we should call for Knox first. His magic might be useful if there are…traps.”

“He’s sleeping.” I slash my hand through the air, cutting off that line of thinking. “He’s been training with Rivlan for days, pushing his magic to new limits. He staggered to bed this morning, barely conscious.”

An image of Sterling, his bronze skin ashen with exhaustion, his usually alert eyes dulled, flashes in my mind. He’s been working so hard, trying to master new techniques under Rivlan’s demanding tutelage. I refuse to wake him for this or anything else unless absolutely necessary.

Helene assesses me coolly. “All the more reason to wait. If the crown prince is depleted, and you rush into danger without him⁠—”

“Surely the five of us can figure out what a mysterious religious cult is up to on our own?” The question rushes out of me, dripping with sarcasm.

Bastian and Leesa trade another look, this one laden with meaning I can’t quite decipher.

My brother sighs, his posture slumping. “Fine. But Leesa stays.”

I blink, my gaze shifting between them. “Why?”

Leesa steps forward, her hands clasped together in front of her. For the first time, I notice a subtle new roundness to her stomach, accentuated by the way she’s cupping her belly.

A thrill runs up my arms, and I wait for the announcement with bated breath.

“I’m…” She pauses to inflate her lungs. “I’m pregnant.”

The words transform the atmosphere. The tension in the room dissipates.

“Pregnant?” I need to check that I heard her correctly.

She nods, a small smile playing at her lips despite the seriousness of our discussion. “About three months along. We only just confirmed it last week.”

Bastian moves closer to her, his hand coming to rest protectively at the small of her back.

A feeling so complex I can barely name its components cracks open inside me. Bright joy as clear as morning sunlight. Fragile but persistent hope.