Seren Nightshade's Arc

Chapter 18 of 26

The petal rings had doubled Seren's power overnight. She felt it swell in her chest like a second heartbeat. But she also felt the eyes turn her way. Six gods had stopped watching. Now they moved. Seren stood at her cave mouth and knew a strike was coming. She did not know when. No god stood at her side to warn her. That gap could kill her. Amber Crystalhart arrived at dusk with her rainbow staff and a plan. She had fought beside Seren before, distracting the pantheon while spells took hold. "You can't guard yourself and answer prayers," Amber said. "You need eyes." She jerked her chin toward the road. A small girl walked up the path, barefoot, braids swinging. Seren knew the child by reputation. Mica Soulweaver. A seer who carried two souls and saw what had not yet happened. "She's mortal," Seren said. "The gods can't sense her the way they'd sense another god." Amber nodded. "That's the point." Mica stopped at the fire. She stared past it, at nothing. "They're gathering their strike," she said. Her voice was flat, too old for her small mouth. "Not tonight. But soon. When it comes, I'll feel it first." Seren made her choice. She could not raise a god to stand guard, so she would raise a shield instead. She led Amber and Mica to a chamber woven from living willow branches, deep in the wood. Inside sat a hollow throne of curved wood, hidden from the sky. "A decoy holds my seat in the open cave," Seren said. "I hide here. Mica watches. When the blow lands on the false seat, I strike back." She lifted a spear from the willow wall. Its head was jagged, forged for storms, and blue light crawled through the cracked metal. "This throws lightning the moment a divine hand touches me," she said. "But only if I know where the hand reaches." She looked at Mica. "That's your job." They waited three days. Seren studied a dark leather journal she'd found among her mother's things, pages left by witches who had survived godly wrath. On the fourth night, Mica's head snapped up. "Now," she whispered. "The eldest. He strikes the cave." A sound like breaking stone rolled through the wood. Far off, the decoy seat shattered. The gods had aimed at an empty throne. Seren felt the divine blow pass through her false anchor and gripped the spear. Lightning tore up its length. She hurled the bolt along the path the strike had opened. It found the eldest god's reaching hand and burned it black. A roar shook the trees. Then silence. The strike had missed. The counterstrike had landed. Seren stood inside the willow shrine, whole, her true seat untouched. But now the gods knew a mortal seer warned her. Mica gripped her braids, shaking. "They saw me," she said. "They know my face now."