“You think there’s a whole other set of–”
“Fifteen.”
“Fifteenold gods? How old? From before the Geist or the same time? Was there a time before the Geist? And how do you know? How could you possibly know about these fifteen other gods?”
“I told you. The old gods speak more than the new.”
I blinked at her, jaw gone slack.
“You can’t possibly mean to infer they speak to you?” I asked, gaping.
“Close your mouth, hafid. I’m no fool,” she snapped.
“I just…didn’t realize–”
“The goddess is old, not inept. She still holds the strings we dance upon.”
For the first time, I felt pity for my grandmother. I could see the fervent belief shining in her ancient eyes. Was this what it was like, growing old? Did one feel inclined to find meaning and purpose at the end, to justify a life upon this plane, to rationalizeexistence? And was this desperation what laid in store for anyone who sought it?
“Grandmother…” I began with a sigh.
“You don’t have to believe me, Milo,” she barked before I could continue. The light in her eyes faded as they narrowed into a glare directed at me. “Just continue your research. Find out what happened to Eximius.”
“I already told you I can’t find any mention of it. I don’t know what else you want me to do.”
“Pray.”
With that, she turned and stormed from the study, slamming the door so hard behind her the very walls shook.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Olympia
Daylight was not my usual operating hours but, since Milo was convinced his precious witnesses were just as likely to get a knife in the ribs in the middle of the afternoon as they were after dark, here I was.
I watched the shift change from the shadows of the entrance to a Third Ring carpentry shop. It so happened to be directly across the ring from Adrian Bexley’s former apartment. I’d dressed in my oldest clothes, a charcoal sweater that slouched at my shoulders and a pair of nondescript black jeans. I’d done everything I could to blend in on the Third, but they still knew.
Young men and women passed by in groups on their way up to the Second or into various shops here on the Third. They all glanced my way and fell to whispers as they went. The old man in the carpentry shop kept inching closer to his own door, glaring at me beneath bushy eyebrows as if I were costing him business. A woman in an apartment next to Adrian’s had been sweeping the same spot on her porch for twenty minutes now.
Rolling my eyes and sighing, I pushed off of the wall just as Harrison exited the apartment building across the street. Heglanced around once before he spotted me, rolled his eyes, and walked off in the opposite direction. I wasted no time following him.
This had been our routine for the last week. Ever since Milo had heard what had been found in that burned down house on the Second and reasoned out exactly what I’d had to do with it, he’d been on my ass about this little protection detail. Since I outright refused to inform my cousin about the incident which had occurred between his witness and myself, I had no choice but to suck it up and follow Harrison around his ring day in and day out.
For the first two days, I’d managed to remain unseen, following him from the shadows, around corners, and even on rooftops on occasion. But then I’d grown tired of the sneaking and, frankly, bored. So I’d waited until he vanished inside the apartment building I knew his brother lived in, the one he shared with that girl Adrian had always hung around with. I’d positioned myself in front of the door so he would see me but far enough away that he wouldn’t expect interaction.
Harrison had come out of that apartment a few hours later and froze on the spot. But, when I’d made no move to intercept him, he’d scoffed and walked away. He figured out quickly enough why I was here once I started following, hands in my pockets and keeping a safe distance.
For the most part, he’d ignored me. He simply went about his daily life, glancing my way from time to time and becoming increasingly annoyed every time he looked up to find me there, but he never said anything. That was why I was so surprised when he halted, halfway down the street, and whirled around. A few long strides had him nearly face to face with me.
“Are you avoiding me because of who I am or because of who you are?” he snapped, not bothering to keep his voice down.
I turned to the gaggle of teenage girls gaping at us from a bench outside of a nearby apartment building. They looked away as soon as I caught them staring but that didn’t keep them from eavesdropping. I grabbed Harrison’s arm and pulled him into an alley between two old shops.
“I’ve been following you for a week,” I grumbled, releasing him once I was certain we were alone. “I’d hardly call that avoiding you.”
“Olympia.”
His eyes tightened when I met his gaze.
