Free Rise of the Magi by Jocelyn Adams

imagine.
    “You okay?” I asked, knowing it was a stupid question.
    Without turning, she said, “I’m not sure what okay means anymore. Doesn’t the Goddess care about us? Is that why she didn’t bond us yet? Because she intends to let us get wiped off the face of the earth.” She balled her slender fingers on her lap. “This sucks.”
    My stomach gave a violent twist at the hopelessness in her voice. “Even though it’s hard to see right now, I think she wants us to fix this, and that’s what we’re going to do. I need you to keep an eye on our future and tell me when it changes.” If it changes. I stood and offered her my hand, needing to get something done. At least we had a starting point. “Are you ready for this?”
    She faced my proffered fingers—probably since I rarely offered—and slowly lifted her hand and grasped mine. “Yeah, but there’s somewhere we need to stop first. We have one more to add to our little raiding party, and you’re going to be pissed eight ways from Sunday about it.”
    When she didn’t elaborate, and evaded my attempts to lock glares with her, I jerked her closer. “Who could I possibly be pissed about bringing to the Overseers? Neve?” I shook my head as I considered why that might be. “I know she’s pregnant, but she can still handle herself.”
    Brígh strode away in the direction of the Court. “Oh, yeah, she’s badass, carrying or not. It’s not Neve, though.”
    Keeping pace with her, I picked off a few names of women I knew from our poker games and the members of my guard, growing more frustrated at each of her ‘nope’ answers. “You’re never cryptic with me. It’s one of the things I like best about you—that you’re so non-Gallagher-like. Quit jacking around the truth and spill it. Or else.”
    She blurted out a laugh. “Or else, what? Your threats are useless against me, Blondie, because I know you have a soft spot for me in that big heart of yours, even if you try to hide it from me.”
    Well, shit . She had me there.
    As we arrived at the gates to the Court, she swept her arm toward it. “Just go see for yourself. And just so you know, you might as well save your breath and spare us from your rant, because she comes. I’ve seen it.” The deadly seriousness in her faded blue eyes chilled me.
    My pulse limped for a moment before sprinting. “Wait … so you know what happens when we go there today?”
    She shook her head, candy ringlets bouncing with the motion. “Only that the three of us go. Once we get to their domain”—her hand made a chopping motion—“nada. Vision goes grey. Bitches don’t like anyone knowing what they’re doing in there, apparently.”
    I stood there for a moment, lips parted, working my brain to figure out who might be waiting inside the Court. “Why won’t you just tell—”
    “Quit stalling, and go see. And don’t you dare yell at me because this isn’t my choice, and I’ve had a shitty day.” A sheepish red glow lit up her cheeks. “Not that you haven’t, but … oh, just go, wouldja? This calm before your hissy storm is making me all skittery.”
    Hands gripping my hips, I shot her an indignant look. “I most certainly do not have hissy storms.”
    At Brígh’s face-palm, I rushed through the gate, and said, “Fine, going, Miss Bossy Pants,” and stopped dead at the pair who stood atop the knoll in the center, gazes cast toward the spirits. Maeve’s eyes dripped a stead rhythm of tears onto her flushed cheeks. Her shock of orange hair frizzed around her pale face. Little Arianne clung to her, tiny shoulders heaving with her sobs.
    “Oh, hell, no,” I said, choking on the conclusion that slapped me in the face.
    “Raze was Arianne’s daddy,” Brígh whispered from behind me.
    My lips seemed to have turned to stone with all of my incoherent stuttering. “But … I … that can’t be right. I’ve never seen them together. How did I not know that?”
    “I said he was Arianne’s daddy,