Dorian pulled the Amulet of Orynth from
his jacket, letting it sway in the bitter wind. A
silent, ghostly song leaked from the gold-and-
blue medallion—speaking in languages that
did not exist. “Brannon Galathynius defied the
gods by putting the key in here with a warning
to Aelin. The least you could do is give me a
direction.”
Gavin’s edges blurred, but held. Not much
time. For either of them. “Brannon
Galathynius was an arrogant bastard. I have
seen what interfering with the gods’ plans
brings about. It will not end well.”
“Your wife, not the gods, brought this
about.”
Gavin bared his teeth. And though the man
was long dead, Dorian’s magic flared again,
readying to strike.
“My mate,” Gavin snarled, “is the cost of
this. My mate, should the keys be retrieved,
lily
(lily)
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