Only by the psychos, I wanted to say, but once again resisted. “So why did your first daughter fail?”
“She killed the key, but she did not destroy the Harpe and therefore left open the ability for him to rise. Death found herbecause she had not the strength to fight the Ninkilim, who believed her blood would sustain their god until the Harpe was found.”
“But even if shehaddestroyed the Harpe, death would have found her, true?”
“As I said, it is a requirement.”
I got up to pace. I couldn’t help it, because if I just sat there, staring at him, anger would get the better of me. Or, worse still, the inner darkness, which continued to roil deep inside, fighting restrictions I was barely keeping in place, would break free and attack. I rather suspected that was what he wanted, what he was waiting for.
Because we both knew that once the darkness had truly seen the light of day, it would not be put back into its box.
“Is there any way of breaking said rule?”
“Breaking, no. Bending? Possibly.”
“What if I simply refused to play the game?”
“Such a refusal will lead to unwanted consequences for all those you care about. I might prefer to play within the rules, but our opponents often walk deep in the gray.”
I dropped back into the chair and wearily rubbed a hand across my eyes. A migraine was brewing, and I wasn’t sure if it was this place, this situation, or the fact that I’d only gotten out of the hospital a few hours ago after being at death’s door for several days.
“Then what if I find and kill the opposition’s key, as well as all the other major players? Would that be enough?”
“No, because chopping off the head of the Hydra rarely results in the whole beast dying. It simply results in more heads being produced.”
“But itispossible?”
“Anything is possible, but do not think you can avoid finding the Harpe. That was my first child’s option, and it is not a road that will be allowed this time.”
“Have you got any good news to impart?” I growled. “Or did you just come here to completely wreck all my dreams and hopes for the future?”
Amusement lurked briefly again. “You must accept that which brews within you. You must also trust the instincts inherited from your mother, especially when it comes to those around you. You must remember that sometimes control cannot be taught. Sometimes it comes from letting yourself be overwhelmed.”
“And once again we’re back to statements that hold nothing but meaningless platitudes.”
“Nothing I have said here is mere platitudes, child. I have given you a path forward, and a means of survival, and that is more information than my first child had. What happens next is completely up to you.”
And with that, he rose and walked away.
I thrust to my feet. “Wait!”
He didn’t. The door closed behind him and the cloud chairs disappeared, leaving me alone with the shadows that still lurked beyond the brown-streaked black walls.
I swore softly but vehemently, then turned as pale green light speared across the darkness behind me.
Liadon’s orb bobbed midair several yards away. I’d initially believed it was nothing more than a sphere of light through which she spoke and which she used as a guide for those of us not of this place. I now suspected it had some sentience. Not a ghost, as such, more an otherworldly will-of-the-wisp.
“How much of all that did you hear?” I asked her.
“This is my world and my sanctuary,” she replied, her soft voice warm and yet as otherworldly as her domain. “I hear and see all.”
“Any opinions?”
“Plenty, but I must remain neutral in the games of god and man. My orb will lead you out.”
“Then Borrhás considers our business done?”
Borrhás was a god of the cold north wind and the bringer of winter, and my aunt had used his relic—a horn capable of encasing people, buildings, or even entire cities in ice—in an attempt to claim vengeance on all those she deemed responsible for killing her daughter. She’d come damn close to succeeding with me. Unfortunately for her, Borrhás had been rather annoyed that his relic was being used in such a manner, and my aunt—along with the witch who had wielded the horn for her—were now forever entombed in Borrhás’s ice somewhere in this underground labyrinth.
