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He’s currently finishing up today’s report. I’m sifting through the papers while Sterling informs the council of what happened during our excursion.

We hoped the journey to find the portal would provide answers. Instead, we returned with even more questions and the terrifying knowledge that the gods themselves are at war.

And now the councilors sit around the table, struck dumb by the news.

Breann and Fenton appear to be praying, which seems a little risky given what we learned.

“Lark, need another cup of tea?” Rafe hovers at my elbow, uncharacteristic concern pinching his handsome features. “Or some extra light so you don’t strain your eyes?”

On any other day, I’d tease him about mothering me. But now is not the time.

“Thank you, but no.” My voice sounds distant even to my own ears. “Maybe a shot of whiskey in the tea for Knox?”

Nira pushes her cup forward, silently requesting the same.

Sterling hasn’t stopped pacing since he started relaying his story of our journey. He stalks around with the restrained energy of a caged predator, reminding me of the cave cats at the Divine Commons. The water in every glass and pitcher ripples with his passing, tiny wavelets climbing the sides before receding.

His sensitive magic is a sure sign of distress.

Dalya says nothing as her fierce gaze follows the sway of water.

Bron opens his mouth only to snap it shut like he’s thought better of speaking.

In a chair across from me, Agnar rests his head in his hands, his broad shoulders hunched forward and his coppery hair escaping its tie to frame his battle-scarred face. Dark circles shadow his blue eyes, mirroring my own exhaustion. “Maybe we should stick to Tirene. Things work better here. And it’s small enough we can handle everything that happens within our borders.”

The same solution Tír Ríoga settled on. Their response does possess a certain practical sense. Global isolation. Just stay within their borders, protect their own lands and people, and let everyone else deal with the divine war the best they can.

But how does that solve anything? The fallout from a celestial war will affect every kingdom.

“We’re Tirenese. Not clams who hide in the sand every time the tide goes out.” I meet the gaze of each council member, ensuring they’re paying attention.

Sterling stops pacing long enough to raise an eyebrow at me.

“Segregating ourselves will only limit our knowledge, resources, and ability to respond to the crisis. I believe our strength lies in our numbers and our willingness to work together. It’s the only way we can hope to survive whatever the gods throw at us.” I tap my fingertips on the world map. “What would other nations say if we tried to explain what we saw and learned?”

Sterling plants his hands on the table opposite me. “What do we actually know? A gods’ war. But who’s fighting against whom? Why?” He pushes upright to resume his previous movement. “How do we protect our people from being collateral damage in a divine war?”

Dalya shifts her sharp gaze from the water to the map. “And that’s exactly why we can’t seclude ourselves. The pattern only emerges if we can see enough of the board. Let’s lay out what we know for certain.”

I pull a fresh sheet of parchment toward me. Might as well add to my stack. “First, the gods are at war with each other.”

Agnar straightens in his chair. “Second, the odd events are fallout from that war.” He counts off on his fingers. “The sacred springs boiling in the Eastern Provinces.”

Nira sips her fresh cup of whiskey-laced tea, her shiny brown hair spilling over her shoulder. “The flock of sheep that grew two extra heads each. The night sky appearing in daylight over the Western Marsh.”

“The Devoted have chosen a side.” Sterling plops into a chair across from me with a generous pour of whiskey in his tea.

Fenton steeples his fingers under his chin. “Except we don’t know whose side, or even what the sides are.”

“Clearly, they’re on Zeru’s side. Or that’s what their tattoos would indicate.” Rafe rubs the knuckles of one hand while staring off into the distance.

“But surely there’s more than just the Devoted on Zeru’s side. That’s the most troubling part. We don’t even know who’s fighting whom.” I write each point in hurried script.

Nira sets her cup down, sliding it away from a haphazard stack of papers. “Which gods would align with Zeru?”

A thought strikes me that I’m glad we don’t know.

Because if we did…