Chapter 57

"Should I be concerned that you just happened to know there was a long mirror in this disgusting apartment?"

I shrugged. "Should I be concerned you stole Lady Visha's power?"

She looked at my dusty reflection in the mirror. "The book wasn't her power. From what I understood, it was her ledger, but for some reason, she couldn't keep someone bound if she didn't write their name inside. Some kind of weird rule on her power. At least that's what Drexel thought when he sent me in to get that book."

"You know, it's strange. I never really considered you to be a thief, but the more I think about it, that's what Drexel turned you into. Whether you chose it or not."

She stared at herself in the mirror for several minutes. "I guess now I do get to decide what I am."

"Yes, you do." I reached forward, sliding a finger over the edge of the mirror as a title I hadn"t had time to truly believe fell bitterly from my lips. "Cythronia Eiria, Goddess of Life, Truth, and Reflection, it's time to come out and play."

For a moment, the mirror didn't respond. And I thought for sure I was going to have to keep my vow and start hunting down all the mirrors and breaking them, just to lure her from her hole, but eventually, the glass rippled, and we were able to step beyond the threshold and into an open clearing I'd seen one other time.

"I don't like to be summoned," Ro said, standing with her feet shoulder-width apart, arms crossed and glaring at the two of us.

"A goddess, Ro? Really?"

She rolled her eyes, and I couldn't help but think of how un-godlike that gesture was. "The writing was on the wall, Deyanira. But that's not why you're here."

I pulled the tiny flower from my pocket, withered as it was, and held it out toward her. "Why did you choose this design for the tattoos on my back?"

She plucked a small white petal and studied it for several moments before softening. "Because I knew when it was time, you would figure it out."

"Why didn't you just tell me? Of all people, Lady Visha had to. How did she know?"

"Because she's a nosy cunt." She dropped the petal to the ground, walked directly past us, and through the mirror. We shared a glance before following, both hesitant to trust a goddess in a godless world. But when we stepped through, we entered the hall of mirrors I'd originally expected.

Traipsing down the stairs, I pushed the door open to her sitting room as Paesha took my side, still silent.

"Thirsty?" Ro asked, pouring herself a drink.

"Seriously, why didn't you tell me, Ro?"

"Humans are fickle, and you are the ficklest of them all. So consumed by the guilt of the dark magic, you couldn't see the light. Telling you wouldn't have made a difference until you were ready to use it. I dropped hints, but you were obtuse."

"But Orin…"

She froze, staring between us both. "Yes. Orin. What happened? I haven't been able to see anything in the majority of Silbath in days, and it's not safe for me to leave."

"Not safe?"

Her voice became otherworldly, as if it carried two tones of absolute command, seeking the truth, as was her godly charge. "We'll get there. Tell me what happened with Orin. Now."

"Long story," Paesha said. "I'll condense. You and Orin were keeping secrets, even though we'd told you not to."

"That's not keeping it short, Huntress."

"Right." She glowered. "But it was worth saying. Anyway, Dey ran off, Drexel caught her, and turned her over to the new king. The new king wasn't being very nice, and it pissed Orin off, so he… you know, just killed a bunch of people, and broke the world to free her, and then Death?—"

She held up her hand. "I can pretty much guess what happened from there. Thank you."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "So, you knew he was Orin's father?"

"Yes. Of course."

"And you instructed him to kill me?"

"I put you both in the same place at the same time and hoped for the best."

"That's awfully… meddling of you, Goddess."

She shrugged. "I have my own reasons. You were properly trained. Now's not the time for pity parties, Maiden."

"So we never were friends? I was just a pawn?"

"Why must we always come back to this? Your constant need for validation is exhausting. Of course, we are friends. I wouldn't have bothered if we weren't. Did you not fall in love with him, Dey? Did your life not start over because of him? The road was messy, but the destination was the right one."

"Why are we talking in circles?" Paesha asked. "Can we please get to the point? What the fuck is going on, and how are we going to get him back? Those are the questions we need answers to. The rest of this doesn't matter."

"We'll start from the beginning. Or a beginning, I should say. Have a seat, ladies."

Paesha sat so close our thighs touched. Ro poured amber liquid into three glasses, and though Paesha snatched the one offered to her, I passed, waiting for answers.

"Most of the history of Requiem as you know it is false, though each piece is laced with truth." She sat in the chair across from us, her long legs slipping from her red silk gown as she crossed them. "Requiem is a world ruled by the gods from their home in Etherium. When war broke out here, Reverius, the Keeper of the Realms and Highest Sovereign, banned every god from returning to Requiem. Some still found a way, pining for those who worshiped them. Some took humans to their beds and left babies in the bellies of women. That's where traces of power can be found." She took a sip of her drink. "Like you, Huntress, the blood of Alastor, God of Lost and Broken things runs through your veins."

"Oh, I bet you loved him," Paesha said.

"I love my brother enough," Ro answered defensively.

"I'm sure there's a point to all of this," I said, interrupting.

"But this story doesn't begin with Requiem; rather, it ends here. For now. Because one particular goddess, who held the Keeper in the highest esteem, never left the comfort of Etherium. She'd worked from the heavens to cast her power below. Some would say this seclusion made her na?ve. Especially when Death snuck into the realm of gods, fully convinced he could kill the Keeper and take his place as sovereign. But Death got distracted and fell in love with that na?ve goddess. Every day, he returned to our realm, showering her with promises of eternal glory. Until he was discovered.

"As punishment, Reverius threw Death and the goddess he'd obsessed over, from his sacred realm, damning her to live eternity in Requiem. To safeguard her eternal damnation and shunning, the punishment she took for allowing such a being into his realm, the Keeper took away Requiem's ability to die, creating another immortal world where Death's power was not welcome and would not work. Reverius knew that Death would otherwise hunt the soul of his lover and draw her into his court for eternity.

"But Death was cunning and desperate to find his lover. Willing to pay whatever cost the magic demanded, he used a dark curse to bring forth a harbinger: a person able to traverse the immortal realm and kill in his place, sending the soul of the fallen directly to his infamous court. The price, however, was a counterpart, a Life Maiden, able to bring fertility and healing to a world suffering from battle scars that spanned lifetimes. Death never saved Requiem from war. The Keeper did.

"Centuries later, Death was still hunting for the soul of his beloved. A single harbinger in a realm of two giant cities was not enough. Time was his enemy, as he had to lie in wait a full year before he could deliver a new name to his Maiden or Lord. But his power was not absolute. It was not without flaws. And so, he found another way to outsmart the gods. Another power, another cost.

"Siphoning the Keeper's power from the human's immortality, he was able to draw his Maiden into his realm while she slept, delivering names far more often. But one day, his greed grew too plentiful, his harbingers too lethal, and the fragile magic broke. Immortality was ripped away from the humans, and they were left with one hundred years of life.

"Death was all too happy to wait, believing all the world would fall at once; every soul, upon reaching one hundred years old, would cross their final threshold and enter his eternal court. But when the first to fall did not come, and the soul was reincarnated back into this eternal realm, Death became irrational and desperate. And so, a new plan was concocted. A new magic, born. A new price, paid."

My jaw ached from the way it dropped, eyes wide as I listened to Ro tell Death's tale. "Wait… wait. You're saying… all of this is just because Death fell in love? Some asshole god got pissed off about it and decided to punish him by locking her into a realm and kicking Death out of it with magic? And since Death can't kill her and take her to his court, the harbingers are just… hunters? Arrows he's blindly shooting through a keyhole of a locked door? That's all we're doing… But he has been here. He comes to collect the souls."

"Only to you, Deyanira. With Orin and Icharius, his shadows have collected; the rules don't restrict his ability to reap a soul. Only to take a life. And since he's never truly appeared to Orin's kills, likely he had no reason to believe it was anyone but Icharius. I think he feels your kills differently. Acutely. Because your magic is not only dark; it's also light. Now, you have a choice to make. Will you let Orin fall victim to the darkness, or will you save him?"

The way she looked at me with such challenge in her eyes made me question every bit of her story until one truth became glaring. Each piece of Ro's carefully laid plan came together so nicely, had I blindly trusted her, I might not have seen the small part she'd left out.

I have my own reasons,she had said.

Rubbing my hands together, I let the tension build in my shoulders, laying my own trap. She'd meddled, pushed, and twisted, all in convenient times for this single moment, and it gave me the final advantage I needed to protect the ones I was leaving behind.

"I don't think I can do it," I said with so much finality, I hoped Paesha followed along. "There's no true way to get to Death's court, and if I somehow managed, how would I save him? What advantage could we possibly have over Death?"

Paesha studied the look on my face but said nothing, trusting me fully, just as I'd hoped she would.

"You're the Life Maiden. You can use that magic to defeat him."

"You must have confused me with someone else. If I can figure out how to get there, I'm getting Orin and getting the hell out of there."

"No!" she shouted, jumping to her feet. "His power will continue to haunt you if you do not see this through to the end."

"Why do you seem so desperate?" Paesha asked, rising at the same time I did.

"Because," I answered, "we're staring at Death's missing lover."

"I never loved him." Ro seemed to shrink into herself. "He was so dark and obsessive, so dangerous. Maybe there was a part of me that was intrigued, but there was no love or love lost. He was delusional."

I leaned in, narrowing my gaze as if it were a weapon. "For someone who holds the value of truth to the highest level, you're such a talented liar."

"I can imagine it's very easy to stand there and point the finger at me, but I need you both to consider taking a step back and looking at the bigger picture. Not at me or the fact that my future has been destroyed, my eternity stolen, but at everything. The root of evil here is Death. The man who forced the madness onto a child, Deyanira. He pulls the strings of this world so flawlessly. Who do you think gave the Maestro power? He wasn't born to that; he bargained with Death for it. Every lashing your husband took was because Death made that deal. Every bit of suffering Elowen experienced was because of the lies Death spun. Who do you think elevated Icharius to king? Death. And who thought to put his Death Lord and Maiden on the throne of a world he's damned? Death. Those flowers on your back and every hateful glance you've ever received are because of him. Not me. I tried to bring peace to you when you had none. I knew the Life Maiden magic hidden within you would never be strong enough if you didn't have light in your world. Death manipulated your history to make himself a god, and you are only a pawn. Consider your evils and sit in the truth."

"So that's why you've been hiding in mirrors. You've been so involved in my life because you knew I was the only one with the power to enter his court and use my opposing magic against him. You've played every single piece perfectly. Including Orin's and my chance meeting. Because you knew I needed a reason to go. A reason to want Death gone."

"You're fucking twisted," Paesha said, grabbing my hand to keep me grounded. "Did you convince him to break the world, too, so his father would finally figure it out and come for him when it was most convenient?"

She popped her mouth open, then shut it again as she fought for words to argue.

"You did," Paesha gasped. "You did this."

I tugged on the Huntress's arm, holding her to my side.

"If I can't get him back, Goddess, I swear to every holy temple, on the grave of every fallen god, and the dais of the rest that I will find a way to make you pay, whether you choose to take responsibility or not. If I have to reach into the heavens and pull Reverius from his fucking throne to save Orin, I will."

"Shh," she hissed. "You mustn't speak like that if you have a will to live."

"Then I think it's lucky for all of us that I don't. But here's what you're going to do for me. Althea, Quill, Elowen, and Paesha are being left behind in a broken world with no rules and no ruler. Requiem is bound to fall into ruin. And you're going to protect them by whatever means necessary. If that means you bring them into this world of yours, you're going to do it."

"Humans don't make demands of gods, Deyanira."

"Then I'll take my ass home and do nothing to save you, and the next time Death comes to my dreams, I will tell him exactly where you're hiding."

"You wouldn't," she gasped.

I glared, staring at the woman who was always too beautiful for this world. "Fucking try me."

She sat for several moments, picking at her fingernails before thrumming them along the arm of her chair, contemplating.

"I will protect Quill, Thea, and Elowen as best I can, Deyanira, but Paesha… she has to go with you."

"I'm not bargaining her life," I argued.

She shook her head, turning to Paesha. "It's not a bargain. You're the only one with the power to find the path."

"You've got my magic confused. I've never been to Death's court, and I can't find something I have no familiarity with."

"I can offer the doorway, but you must follow your magic to Ezra."

All color leached from her face as she tried to swallow and failed. I handed her my drink, and she threw it back, nearly choking on the burn. Eventually, she took my hands, that set of stunning eyes shifting between mine.

She didn't have to say the words. I knew her answer long before the question was ever given. Still, she spoke, severing all hope. "I'm sorry, Deyanira. But I can't leave Quill behind. I've accepted that I will spend eternity with Ezra when my time eventually comes. I know I'm needed here just a little while longer. And I didn't say goodbye. I just left her. If I don't come back…" She shook her head, stepping away from me. "She'll never recover from it, and I think that might be dangerous for Requiem. She's powerful."

"I know," I whispered, feeling so utterly lost. He'd been right there, attainable. And now there was no path forward.

"Please," Ro said. "Please reconsider. I've promised to look after the child. She can come here. I helped raise Deyanira from her own sorrow as a child. I can do the same for Quill. I'll protect her."

Paesha was quiet for a long time, staring at the floor. She didn't want to be the reason Orin suffered, and I knew it. But Quill was like her own. And still so young. I couldn't let her guilt eat at her for another second. And I couldn't let myself become defeated.

I slipped my hand into hers, squeezing. "I'll find the path on my own, Paesha."

As if she hadn't heard me, she lifted her head, staring at Ro. "If I go, can I come back?"

Ro sighed. "If there is a way, you will be the one to find it."

"Areyou sure you don't want to say goodbye to Quill, just in case?"

Paesha shook her head. "I'm coming back for her. If I say goodbye beyond what I already did, she's only going to worry. Her mother abandoned her. Her father abandoned her. She wanted a friend in Drexel so bad, and he cast her to the side. I'm her constant. More than anyone else. It has to be this way, or she will panic."

"Okay," I answered. "I promise when the time comes, I'll help you find the way home."

We stood in a room of mirrors I'd never seen before, the air thick with an eerie, hushed tension. The chamber seemed suspended in a timeless void, its boundaries obscured by countless reflections of ourselves. The walls, the ceiling, the floor—all surfaces, every inch of them—were adorned with mirrors, each one casting our likenesses back at us, multiplying our anxious faces into infinity.

"Ready?" Paesha reached for my hand with a faint tremble. "Don't let go, okay? Whatever happens?"

At the center of the room loomed the ominous mirror that beckoned us toward an irreversible journey into eternity. So unlike the others, with a dark frame of ornate wood that seemed to absorb the very light around it. Its surface was not pristine; instead, it carried an ebb and flow of shadow.

"In case I forget to tell you, Huntress, thanks for coming. See you on the other side," I said, taking one final deep breath and leaping into the mirror.