I shrug. “Some mad guy opened it and let her out. She killed him.”
“Sounds like Aethel.”
“No one liked her,” I state.
“Understatement.”
“Why?”
“She was a tyrant. Being trapped here with her, with nowhere to go for several hundred years, was not fun.”
“Why didn’t someone try to kill her?”
“Gods can’t kill gods.”
That tracks, at least. “Did you know the Devourer is here? Or a fragment of it trapped in a box?”
Aurora’s smile goes brittle. “Fragment is not enough.”
“I’m aware.” I stop, plant my feet, and let my jaw unclench. Running in circles is a waste of breath. I’m done indulging this fog.
“Fine,” I say to the grey. “You belong to me. Obey.”
Nothing dramatic happens. No trumpets. No choir. Just a narrow easing in the pressure behind my eyes, like a stubborn knot loosening. The fog hums, waiting.
“Rules,” I tell it, because Dreven was right and I hate that he was right. “You will do two things. Show me the nearest exit, and hold the box.”
The mist ripples. A seam opens to my right, as thin and precise as a blade mark. Air moves—barely—but it’s movement, and that’s enough. Warmth licks the back of my neck; not heat, attention. The realm heard me.
Aurora arches a brow. “Look at you. Becoming interesting.”
“Keep up,” I say, and step into the seam before it changes its mind.
The fog pulls back like I’ve yanked a tablecloth. Obsidian resolves under my boots, shot with veins of bright gold that weren’t there before. A vein runs ahead, a guidance line glowing faintly as if it’s embarrassed to help. I follow it. Aurora glides next to me in silence for a change.
“There,” I say after a few minutes. “The fissure.”
She nods as I aim for it. She hangs back.
I turn to her. “You are staying?”
“For now. I feel leaving would be a mistake.”
There is no accusation in her tone, but I still feel like a fucking bitch for walking out of here and leaving everyone behind. But what else can I do?
“I don’t know how to use this power to defeat anything,” I say uncertainly.
Aurora stares at me for a moment, assessing my sincerity before she speaks. “No one new does, dear. You think we are created with the knowledge of how our powers work?”
“No,” I admit, huffing out a breath. “I’m winging it. Constantly. It’s exhausting.”
Aurora’s mouth curves. “Welcome to divinity.”
“That’s depressing.”
“Despair is near,” she agrees with a nod.
“Great. Well, despair can fuck off. I’ve got a job to do aslayerjob to slay things.”
