Auraya’s heart froze.
If Chaia hadn’t tried to kill her, she would never have believed he could say something like that. But he had, and she had overheard him. He hadn’t realized she was close by and listening to him and his fellow gods. She could hear their argument continuing. The word “game” repeated over and over. Each time her resistance to the truth broke down a little more. She looked at the Voices and the White. White-clad men and women. Black-clad men and women. Game pieces. The board was the whole world.
She propelled herself downward, aiming for a place just above the Voices and the White and the gods that buzzed around them like carrion birds.
When Auraya had descended from the sky, blue cloth swirling about her, Mirar’s heart had stopped. For a moment he was full of doubt. She was going to join the White. She would betray the immortals.
Now they would face each other in battle. Unlike him, she was willing to kill.
Then she stopped and hovered above them. The White and the Voices stared up at her.
Someone gave him a small nudge. He turned to look at Second Voice Imenja. Her expression was grim.
“I guess our deal’s off,” she murmured. “Go, if you wish. I will ensure he doesn’t stop you.”
He looked around. All of the Voices and the White seemed transfixed by Auraya. Catching a movement beyond the White, Mirar saw that Emerahl was striding forward, followed by a puzzled Arleej. Looking to one side, he saw Tamun peering over the edge of the road. He glanced to the other side and saw Surim duck out of sight.
He backed away from the Voices. Nekaun turned to glare at him, but Imenja stepped forward to stand between them. Mirar hurried away, then turned. He looked up at Auraya.
She met his gaze and nodded.
“Now!” she cried.
Mirar drew in magic faster than he had ever needed to before.
Reivan gasped as a glowing sphere of light surrounded the White and the Voices. It was blindingly bright, too painful to look upon.
“What’s going on?” someone shouted. She recognized the Elai king’s deep voice.
“They’re attacking each other!” a Servant exclaimed. “Attack the enemy!”
“How? We can’t see them!”
“And they can’t see us,” Reivan found herself saying. “All we can do is protect ourselves and wait.”
To her surprise, the men and women around her quietened. Heart pounding, she covered her eyes and mouthed a prayer to the gods that Imenja was alive and unhurt.
It surprised Emerahl how much magic she could draw and hold. There was a limit, however, and as she reached it she converted it to light. The others were doing the same, surrounding the Voices and the White with a great dazzling sphere.
Then, abruptly, the magic ran out and the glow vanished.
Emerahl found herself standing uncomfortably close to ten confused sorcerers. They were casting about, looking wary and uncertain. One of the Voices gave her a hard look.
Then a glow began to form in the middle of the Isthmus. Emerahl felt her stomach sink to her knees as she recognized Chaia. He was not looking at her, but up at Auraya. Four more figures appeared.
Mouth dry and heart pounding, Emerahl took advantage of the distraction and walked to the edge of the road. Nobody moved to prevent her. They were all too stunned and confused. To her relief, Surim waited there in a narrow boat. She skidded down the steep side of the Isthmus and clambered aboard.
“Did it work?” he whispered.
She shook her head. “Chaia appeared. He’s still alive.”
“And trapped inside the void,” a new voice said quietly. She and Surim turned to see Tamun and The Gull emerge from a crack in the Isthmus wall, paddling in another narrow boat. “Remember, there is often magic left in the middle of a void. We have only created a shell of magicless space about them.”
“Trapped for all eternity,” Surim said. He shrugged, then smiled evilly. “Actually, I like that better.”
“I don’t,” Emerahl growled. “If they’re alive, there’s a chance they’ll last in there until the magic seeps back.”
“Then we’ll just have to sneak back and finish them off, when there are no White or Voices around to stop us,” Surim said, shrugging.
“They’ll expect that. They’ll make sure they’re well guarded.”
“By who? Without the gods enhancing their powers, the White and Voices won’t be as strong,” The Gull pointed out.
“They will be, inside the void,” Emerahl said.
“But the gods need that power to survive.”
“Where is Auraya?” The Gull peered up at the edge of the Isthmus wall.
Emerahl followed his gaze. “She was still floating over them when I left.”
“She has issues to resolve,” Tamun said. “And she can fly away when she’s done. We can’t. We should go.”
“What about Mirar?”
Tamun frowned up at the wall. “He’s probably stayed because Auraya did.”
They stared up at the wall in silence. Emerahl sighed.
“I’ll wait,” she offered. “You three get out of here.”
The glowing figure of Chaia looked from Auraya to Juran. His lips moved, but she could not hear him.
Juran nodded and looked up.
“Chaia asks that you come down and talk to us,” he said. He frowned. “He wants to know why you have done... whatever it is you’ve done.”
Auraya considered, conscious of the White and the Voices watching her. Seeing Nekaun, she shuddered. She wanted to get as far away from him as possible.
But the White needed to be told the truth. Even if they didn’t believe it.
Taking a deep breath, she drew magic to feed her barrier so she wouldn’t fall as she passed through the void, and descended to the ground.
Chaia turned to regard her. She would still be unable to hear him, unless she let the shield around her mind fall. There was nothing left to hide from them that they didn’t already know. She looked at the White and Voices,
