I ignored his comment.
“Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with your sister?”
He grimaced and turned his face away from me before taking a large step back into the middle of the room. This space loomed large when it was just Fay and I, but Kaos seemed to occupy every available inch.
The god was silent for a moment as he cast his black gaze around the room. His eyes ran over the ashes of the books before pausing on the thick stone pedestal. Finally, his gaze coasted over the walls that were filled with the runes Fay tried to decipher in her quest to find that final hidden room.
“Interesting, isn’t it,” he finally said, his hands clasped behind his back as he faced awayfrom me.
“What is interesting,” I deadpanned dryly. If I’d learned anything about immortal beings, it was that they often talked in riddles for their own amusement. I suppose centuries of living meant that they had to find entertainment in the mundane.
“The truth written here”—he gestured to the deep grooves of the runes etched in stone—“in a house of lies.” He spun in a slow circle, arms splayed open, until he faced me once more.
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
Kaos’ smirk was blindingly white against the pure obsidian of his skin. I shivered at the unnatural expression, even as his eyes lit with something akin to manic glee.
“I’m sure the Rune Master will be able to tell you,” he remarked just as the door to the small roomthunkedopen, revealing a wide-eyed and pale Fay. “Ah, good. She found the Seeing Room. Did you find your lost things, Guardian of Knowledge?”
Faylinn stumbled over the threshold, mumbling some incoherent babble. I rushed from my spot, ignoring my standoff with Kaos completely, to pull my friend tightly into my arms. Fay rested stiffly in my embrace, eyes unseeing, as I checked her for obvious injuries.
“The damage isn’t outside, godling. It’s in her mind,” Kaos tapped his temple in emphasis. “A mortal’s mind isn’t strong enough to withhold that onslaught of information without liquefying.”
“She’s not mortal,” I grumbled as I swept my hands over her arms and hands, noting the red-crusted slashes in her skin on top of the litany of silvery scars.
“What did you say?” Kaos’ voice was oddly strangulated.
“I said she’s not mortal,” I called louder, my check on Fay complete. I took her limp hand in mine and caressed the back of it, vowing to coax her from this coma.
I turned my face back to Kaos. He was frowning, brows drawn so far down they nearly enveloped his eyes. Fay’s hand twitched in mine as Kaos strode toward us. His armor creaked as he knelt down; his considerable height folding until his eyes were nearly even with Fay’s.
“Hello, God of Truths.” Fay’s voice was weak and fluttery as she swayed on her feet.
A slow smile curved on Kaos’ face as he drew back to his considerable height.
“She stinks of Fate,” he griped for a moment as a lazy smile coated Fay’s face.
“Well, he is my grandfather,” she remarked quietly. Her voice was a hollow rasp, but held more of her previous strength.
“So, my half sister had a daughter. That would make you . . .” Kaos gestured for Fay to complete his thought.
“Your niece?”
Kaos barked an unexpected laugh that had both Fay and me jumping.
“Fuck, you are just like him, aren’t you? Her, too,” Kaos mused softly, almost to himself. There was a sense of wistfulness in his tone, a softness in his eyes, as if he was remembering something from eons ago.
We were silent for a moment as Kaos grappled with the memories, his face finally settling back into its usual dark apathy.
“What did you discover in that cavern of lies, Guardian?” he asked.
Fay squeezed my hand once before walking on shaky legs past Kaos over to the wall with previous indecipherable runes. She ran her long fingers over the inscriptions again, before turning to face the god.
“Many things. Some of them useful, others not.” She shrugged, unbothered.
“Such as?” The god was growing impatient, and I had to muffle a laugh at Fay’s ability to stay completely unruffled in his presence.
“You’re the God of Truths,” she said simply.
