“Kleio,” I repeated, brow creasing in bewilderment. “Why does that sound familiar?”
“Ah yes. You were never the most devout of House Viper, were you, Dante?”
I narrowed my eyes and backed even further away.
“You know my name,” I hissed.
“Why shouldn’t I?” he asked. “Would it not be prudent for the gods you've spent your entire lifeworshippingto know your name?”
I blinked, shocked. Gods?
“You—you’re—" I tried.
“AGeist, yes,” he informed me. “One held in high esteem in all of your ancient stories but fallen quite from favor in the here and now, to be sure. But not to worry. I won’t take your lack of knowledge regarding my story to heart. Though, I cannot say thesame for others here. If I were you, Dante, I would remember as much as you can about theGeist, who they are and what they’ve done, and fast.”
He looked back down at the object in his hands again, tapping along once more. I watched him for a moment, wracking my brain for the nameKleio.
“You’re one of the Eleven,” I said when I remembered.
“Was,” he replied without looking up. “Not anymore.”
“Not anymore?”
“That was a long time ago.”
“How long?”
“Five hundred years.”
I just stared at him, processing everything he'd told me. He still didn't glance up from his strange device. Instead, he continued to tap on it until the sound grew so irritating I had to break the silence once more.
“Where are we?” I asked, impatience leaking into my tone.
Finally, he looked up. He cleared his throat and set the device on the bed before taking a step toward me. I glanced down long enough to see the glowing tablet flickering. Some numbers and letters in a language I didn’t recognize scrolled across it at a rapid rate. Peeling my eyes away from the strange item, I turned back to face him.
I held my chin high as he approached and did my best not to allow the fear I was feeling deep in my bones to show. I wasn’t sure exactly how one was supposed to go about meeting a god for the first time. I didn’t know if I should bow or start blubbering. Maybe I was supposed to fall to my knees in reverent worship. Maybe I was supposed to start praying and wringing my hands or praise his holiness. I was certainly supposed to remember much more about the legendary god in front of me and all he'd done throughout the extensive history of his divinity.Briawouldhave done all of that and more. She would've known exactly how to confront this deity and would have been humbled to do so.
But I wasn't the blubbering type and I sure as shit had never prayed to his kind before. Kleio was right. I'd never been the most devout of my House. I'd never found piety at all and I wasn't going to now. So, I fell into my old ways. I put up the walls that allowed me to become the cold, calloused son of the First Ring, the ones that allowed me to distance myself from anyone around me without fear of their betrayal. The ones that had begun to crack for the first time with Adrian.
Pushing the thought of her aside and steeling myself, I decided on a show of strength. It seemed to be the more rational course anyway. Until I figured out where I was and what thisforgotten deitywanted from me. He was a god, yes, but he was also my captor. I had to play this right. I tried not to think too hard about the fact that it was whatCosmowould've done as well.
So, instead, I leaned back against the wall behind me and crossed my arms, narrowing my gaze in his direction.
"Where are we?" I repeated again, slower to be sure he understood.
“That,” he began, “is precisely what I'm here to talk to you about, Dante.”
I allowed my brow to furrow but made no move to meet him as he approached.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” he asked.
I didn't miss the way his eyes shone as they raked over my expression. I grimaced before I could contain the reaction.
“Ah, yes,” he said. “I don’t imagine the memory is pleasant. Betrayal, most often, is not.”
My gaze snapped to his. Betrayal. How had he known to use that word? How had he known the depths of my thoughts, the word that haunted me even now, spoken by the ghost of my former partner, whispered through our broken connection everymoment I was still alive, still breathing? How could he know what I'd done and how it tormented me?
“What were you told would happen if you beat the Trials, Dante?” he asked, seeming to change the subject.
