“I hate being outdone orally.” Slate winked at me. “But I can't expound on what Darc just said; it's exactly how I feel. Well, maybe I don't think of these men as brothers quite yet, but they do have my loyalty. I wouldn't betray them for anyone other than you, El. And I don't doubt for one second that the Angel feels the same way. Except he has no ties to us. Nothing to stop him from doing whatever it takes to get you.”

  “They're right, Elaria,” Gage said. “I don't agree with the killing your other lovers part—frankly, I'd sooner die than hurt you by killing someone you love—but I don't think Raphael will share my opinion. He's been without you for a long time. If he sees an opportunity to change that, I believe he'll take it.”

  “That's quite enough,” I said in an angry whisper.

  They all blinked at me in shock.

  “I love you all, and I appreciate your sentiments,” I went on in a softer tone. “Even the violent ones.” I slid a look at Darc and Slate. “And, by the way, Gage has it right; if one of you murdered another, I'd lose you both because I could never forgive that.”

  “It was meant to convey the depth of my love,” Darcraxis growled. “I wouldn't actually kill any of them.”

  “Not unless you had to,” Torin muttered.

  “If I wanted to kill you, Torin, I would have done so back when I was a complete god. I had every opportunity and a hell of a motive,” Darcraxis reminded him. “But Elaria's love saved you then as it's saving your face from my fist now.”

  Torin lurched forward, and Slate shoved him back. “Darcraxis was using it as an example of how far he'd go for her. You fuckers need to lighten up.”

  “I said; enough!” I snapped, feeling an awful lot like Odin, who actually chuckled and smirked at me. “I get that you all love me enough to kill and die and whatever. That's fucking awesome. Yay, me! I love you too; enough to commit murder, which I believe I've proved. But I'm not going to sit here and listen to you disparage an ex of mine for something he might or might not do in the future. Do you hear how insane that sounds?”

  “That's where we are, Elaria,” Banning said gently. “We're in an insane place where we can't trust anyone. Cerberus' sister betrayed him, someone may or may not have betrayed us with the Coven, and we're putting our lives in danger every day to quell an uprising that you started when you brought your ex-husband out of the dark hole the Shining Ones put him into. We have to think in possibilities; all the worst ones. If we don't, we could make fatal mistakes.”

  I leaned back against one of the posts that supported the carriage ceiling and sighed. “Fair enough. Watch him. Watch everyone. Do whatever you like. But I'm taking a nap. I don't know how long it takes to get to the Southern Wastelands, but I intend to use every moment of it to rest up for my next song.”

  I laid down, closed my eyes, and went to sleep. And no one bothered me.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Torin shook me awake a few hours later. I rubbed away sleep and sat up, looking around to get my bearings. Hot air slapped my face and the glare of a noon sun bounced off an expanse of turquoise sea, giving my eyes the same kind of negative attention. Despite the fact that it felt as if it should be night—and it was at Coven Cay—it was broad daylight in the Southern Wastelands of Leine. But waking up to sunlight actually felt appropriate; that part didn't bother me. Opening my eyes to find myself surrounded by manticores was far more disorienting.

  Our carriage rolled across a smooth, arching bridge toward a little island. Perhaps fifty feet across, with a primitive stone structure in its center, the island loomed larger than it was. Slab rock walls formed the structure with only one entrance; an open doorway framed out with three, load-bearing stones. The manticores circled this structure completely, pulling the carriage around it and back to the bridge facing the opposite way. All the better for a quick escape. Then we stopped.

  The manticores unhitched themselves, and Commander Garibald jerked his head in a motion indicating that we should follow him. A manticore of few words. I was okay with that. Garibald took us straight into the rock pile, and I eyed the cross beam as I stepped beneath it. It looked heavy enough to flatten me. Inside, a set of stairs led down into the island's foundation. Commander Garibald didn't seem to mind the dark, but us non-manticores pulled out our flashlights and flicked them on. Swaths of light swept over stacked-stone walls until it became solid rock. Damp solid rock.

  “Watch your step,” Odin called back to his witches. “The way is getting wet.”

  Indeed, the stone stairs cupped puddles in indentations left from years of steady drips. The air grew thicker and humid, coating my skin with a briny film. A scritching sound echoed through the passage as the manticores extended their claws for better purchase. I started to feel a bit claustrophobic with the monsters hemming my friends and me in and the nervous twitch of Garibald's scorpion tail taunting me, but then the stairs let us out into a spacious cavern.

  Light beamed across stone and water as my company shifted their flashlights about. I tried to ignore the dizzying display of dancing beams until the glow settled on a pool at the far end of the room. The manticores filed inside after our group and went to stand by their commander. Only three of them had come in with us, the rest remained above with the carriage, and that relieved some of my tension. If they intended to ambush us after I sang, they would have all come down.

  Or they'd wait outside to jump us as we left.

  My nerves returned, and I exchanged a worried look with Torin.

  “Cerberus and Raphael stayed up top with the others,” Torin said reassuringly.

  “Smart thinking,” I murmured as I realized he was right; Cer and Raph were missing, but I'd been too distracted to notice.

  “It was Gage's idea,” Torin admitted. “Ever the tactician.”

  “There's the pool,” Garibald said as if it weren't obvious. I suppose it was his way of telling me to get on with it.

  I nodded to the Commander and approached the pool with my men. The Witches took up a position behind us, facing out, and I gave Odin a grateful look as they did. It seemed that everyone was thinking more clearly than I. I had been the one to rile up the Queen; I should have been the one to prepare us for possible retribution. But no; I'd been too busy taking a nap.

  I grimaced at myself. My men's ire had thrown me and, if I was being entirely honest, had really pissed me off. But after my sleep, I was thinking more clearly. I knew exactly what to sing to Ortar. Exactly what would appeal to a god who had created such monstrosities? Blood and domination; that was the lullaby for a god like this.

  Are you certain? Kyanite asked me.

  Oh, yeah.

  All right.

  The grating jump of Zayde Wolf's “New Blood” swept through the cavern, followed by the shouting attack of drums and hand claps. A classic, thumping beat and a climbing melody pulled my magic to the surface along with my voice. My men stood beside me, but I didn't reach for them yet. I'd save them until I needed the boost.

  Instead, I let my spell build before me; so thick that I could practically see it gathering above the water. A glimmer came from below the surface, but the water went too deep and the lights behind me glinted too brightly to allow me to see what lurked beneath. I didn't need to see it. I was already there with him; Ortar. They called him Ravener; a god who revealed himself in a more human form than his children. Odd that; most deities wanted their offspring to resemble themselves. But this god had only given pieces of his appearance to his creations; his claws, teeth, and resonant voice. His body, though massive, had two legs and two arms complete with the usual amount of fingers and toes. His head perched upon a thick throat, crowned by a mane of golden hair. He looked nearly normal until his stare focused on me as if I were truly there with him.

  Eyes bluer than the sea that imprisoned him began to glow and a pair of full lips pulled back to bare rows of shark teeth at me. Ortar lurched forward but his cell restrained him, and he scratched the metal instead of my face. The screech of those talons echoed in my mind.

  I used the lyrics to show Ortar that I understood; I knew he had clawed his way into existence and then created his fierce children to not only worship him but to also protect him. I saw it in his heart; the fear. He wasn't the most powerful of Gods, and he'd been afraid. Floating in the cosmos alone, Ortar hadn't been as lucky as Darc and I. He never found a partner. But that was the fate of most gods. It was what drove them to create their children. Except Ortar had made the mistake of forming a vicious race; a race who could barely be loyal to each other much less to him.

  The Manticores had scorned their god first. They had seen no benefit in worshiping him. Then they had the gall to be shocked when he punished them for it. They couldn't even imprison him on their own; they had to seek help from the other beneather races. They used their borrowed magic and evil hearts to hurt Ortar until he was weak enough to force into an enchanted coffin. And then they had sunk that prison into his own ocean.

  I shared Ortar's fury; it wasn't all that hard for me to empathize. My hatred of the Manticores welcomed his like kin. It was that anger that finally quieted the god. He stilled and stared at me. I felt his hope and supplication. He wanted me to free him. Except I knew that his hatred extended beyond his children to the other races who had aided them; the Drachen and the Nagas. Ortar would go straight from Leine to find those races and slaughter them. So, I wove the imagery of it all instead.

  I sent my lyrics into his mind and painted pictures with blood. I played him a movie in which he starred; the freed god rising from the sea to spread terror across Leine. And then I showed him how he'd move beyond, to other planets, in search of new blood; new victims. Nothing would stop him. This time, he'd be free to revel in the carnage. Free to lick the blood from his claws and scoop up more. He would finally rule.

  But instead of calming Ortar, it only spurred his fury. He shook his prison, and the water began to rumble. I turned the magic on him; pushing it into every word with my intention for him to take my offering of pleasant dreams and go back to sleep. But Ortar refused; turned his back on his heart's desire because he knew it was a fiction. Ironically, the least evolved god I'd yet to encounter had been the wisest. His instincts were stronger than their wits.

  Abort! The Rooster Spell shouted inside my head in my own voice. Danger, El Tanager! Danger!

  I have another option, Kyanite offered in a calm tone.

  The heartbeat beginning of Julian Moon's “Siren Song” vibrated down into my feet, and I started swaying gently as I smoothly shifted my lyrics and simultaneously reached out to Torin and Darc. I felt them connect with Banning and Gage, and, finally, Slate. Power flared through me, and my voice lifted into something that rivaled a manticore's. I directed that resonance into the sea and then into the god who raged within it.

  Ortar roared and trembled, and Leine trembled with him. But I felt the crack in his psyche now, and I dove into it. I saw the truth there; his deepest desire hadn't been blood. No, just as with Osander of the Loup, Ortar simply wanted a companion; someone to ease his loneliness. Kyanite sensed that; my jewel had waited a long time for his queen after his last one had been murdered. He knew the taste of loneliness and the scent of it on another being. I should have trusted him.

  All anyone wants is to know they're not alone, Kyanite said to me. Man or god; beast or bird. We all need someone to lay down beside.

  So, instead of vengeance, I offered Ortar a lover to lay beside him. I sang her into existence and saw her take shape before him; a wild heart full of magic and a body made to ease his pain. Untameable and unpredictable; the perfect mate for the Manticore God. She promised him dark magic and even darker love. As I wove my song into her, she wove her song into him.

  Ortar's claws closed around her and drew her close. Within his arms, she looked peaceful. When he offered to conquer the Realms for her, she shook her head. The lyrics poured from her lips; showing him what true love was. Not violence and pain but solace and pleasure. He thought he was going to protect her—save her—but she had come to save him. She didn't merely want his love; she wanted his everything. She asked him to give up his cold fury in exchange for her warm heart.

  And he did. Ortar, the wiliest of the old gods, surrendered his vengeance for his illusionary lover's siren call and fell back to sleep, where she would become his entire world. I wished him well with her.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The Manticores waited for us to step out of the stairwell before they circled us. I grimaced and shook my head cynically at Torin while Cerberus growled gleefully.

  “I knew they couldn't be trusted,” I huffed.

  “What are you doing?” Commander Garibald snapped at his men.

  The Manticores flinched.

  “Queen Farah ordered us to attack them as soon as they were done,” one of the soldiers said as if he was merely reminding Garibald.

  “Queen Farah is letting her pride cloud her judgment. I told you if the Spellsinger was true to her word and helped us, then we would not harm her,” the Commander said briskly. “Stand down.”

  “But...”

  “I said stand down!” Garibald roared in the trumpeting voice Manticores are known for, and his company flinched before they moved away from us. “We will not repay a debt with betrayal. I have more honor than that, and I demand that same honor from my men. If you don't like it, step forward now, and you may take your chances against the Spellsinger on your own. Or, you may run back to our queen and lay your grievances at her feet.”

  “Yes, Sir!” The Manticores shouted.

  “I'm sorry, Queen Elaria,” Commander Garibald said gravely. “They are simple soldiers following orders, doing what their queen commanded them. We are truly grateful for what you've done for us. I thank you on behalf of my people. On behalf of my planet and my firebrand queen.”

  “You're welcome, Commander,” I said. “Your queen is lucky to have you.”

  “Manticores are violent by nature,” he said matter-of-factly. “Perhaps you can understand that now that you've met our god.”

  “I do.”

  “Just because we are ferocious and we were born with a taste for flesh, it doesn't mean we can't be trusted.” Garibald lifted his chin proudly. “Shall we set up the transporter for you?”

  “No; we have our traveling stones, but thank you,” I said. Garibald turned away but I drew his attention back to me. “Commander, Ortar is savage, but he was also the only god cunning enough to see through the illusion I offered him. He didn't just pass on violence.”

  Garibald's eyes widened and his lips moved slowly into a soft smile. “Thank you for that, Queen Elaria. The Gods define us; it's nice to hear a beneather from another race praise ours.”

  I nodded farewell to the Commander and then my group and I used our stones to travel back to Coven Cay.

  “What do you know?” I muttered after we arrived back in the courtyard. “A manticore with a conscience.”

  “Wonders never cease,” Odin agreed. “Perhaps saving the race wasn't such a bad thing.”

  I nodded noncommittally.

  “Will you stay the night again?” Odin asked.

  “No offense, but hell no,” I answered with a grin. “I'm going home to sleep in my own bed.”

  “I think I'm going to head home for the night too,” Cerberus said. “I miss Freya.”

  “Raph?” I lifted a brow at the Angel.

  “I'll go back to Heaven to check on things there,” he said. “Meet you here in the morning?”

  I nodded.

  Raphael's wings burst out from his back, and he winked at me before they flapped downward and sent him surging toward the ceiling. Before he could come into contact with the wooden beams arching above us, Raphael's entire body shimmered and faded away.

  “Huh,” Kevin said. “There's something you don't see every day.”

  “Showoff,” Cerberus muttered before he used the traveling stone I gave him to do his own disappearing act.

  “I don't suppose I could convince you to go to the Zone with me tonight?” Slate asked hopefully.

  “We still haven't had our honeymoon,” Banning pointed out.

  “At least you got to marry her,” Torin growled.

  The men started arguing, all but Declan and Gage, who stood back against the wall to watch with weary expressions.

  I looked at them expectantly.

  “You can have tonight,” Gage said generously to Declan.

  Declan grinned and held his hands out to both of us. “Come now, Griffin, there's no need for self-sacrifice; we can share.”

  We were gone before the others knew what happened.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Declan, Gage, and I stepped through the Veil and into Declan's bedroom. Gage immediately pulled me into his arms. I expected Declan to come up behind me as we kissed, but he didn't. I finally stopped Gage's wandering hands and looked over at my fiance.