Theo looked at me, but I stared ahead. I couldn’t look at him, or I’d let down all of my defenses and confess to every single thing I had ever done wrong in my life.
It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him, not anymore. But trust wasn’t the problem. Shame was. The things I’d done, or failed to do, still clung to me like a second skin. He saw the world through logic and reason, through carefully measured choices and principles. I had never been that way. Once, I had been reckless, driven by emotion, and my carelessness had cost lives, though he didn’t know that yet. How could I tell him, when I could barely face it myself?
He didn’t push me, but time was running out for me.
My secrets couldn’t remain secrets for much longer.
To distract us, I told him stories from my childhood, themischief my friends and I used to cause, the way we drove my mother mad with our antics, and the quiet rituals she and I had created after my father’s death.
We got about halfway when the wind picked up and gray clouds appeared over the mountains.
“Should we look for cover somewhere?” I asked, and Theo nodded.
We rode on for a few more stretches and spotted a wooden structure off the road to our left. It started raining before we could even get there, the heavy rain soaking our clothes instantly. We finally reached the shelter which turned out to be an empty barn and quickly went inside. I wrapped my arms around myself, teeth chattering despite my best efforts to stop.
Auretheos glanced back at me. “You’re shaking.”
“I’ll survive,” I said, though my voice betrayed me.
He didn’t argue. Instead, he crossed the room and crouched near a stone hearth half-buried in dust. With a flick of his wrist, dry wood clattered into place, and fire followed a heartbeat later.
Heat bloomed through the space, chasing the cold from my bones. A blanket appeared around my shoulders.
I stared.
He noticed and gave a careless shrug. “What good is being a god,” he said, “if you can’t manage a few parlor tricks?”
We sat next to the fire and Theo opened the basket which still contained the remnants of our lunch provisions. He handed me a cucumber sandwich and took a bite of his own.
“So, what exactly can you do with your magic?” I asked between bites. “I know you have a super brain and can stop time. I saw you working the purple magic light and you canobviously fight. Plus, you can do neat parlor tricks with fire, but is there any more?”
He swallowed his last bite and leaned back on his hands.
“Every God has a basic level of magic. We can do pretty much anything we want, to a certain degree, like you can. But then each God has their specialty, something they excel at. It’s all about balance with the Gods, nobody is supposed to be stronger than the other and combined, our powers ensure the safety and well-being of every creature and mortal. So it’s hard to answer your question.” He shifted back a little and sat up straight again.
“So let’s try something else. Ask me to do something and we will see if it works.”
The way he looked at me was a challenge and I had to admit that this was turning out to be a pretty great pit stop. What should I choose?
Tap, tap, tap, tap.
I opened my mouth to speak, but he tilted his, watching my fingers.
“You do that a lot,” Theo said. “The tapping. Why are you doing it?”
I froze for a heartbeat. He had noticed. Of course he had—he noticed everything. A dozen answers fluttered through my mind. I sifted through them and chose one that was true enough to stand on its own.
“It’s… a habit,” I said lightly. “Leftover from children’s games. I do it when I need a moment to decide. Buys me a little time.”
A half-truth. I didn’t add the rest—that if I tapped the pattern just right, the Fates would lean in and make the choice for me, and I could simply follow where the threadtugged.
He studied me for another second, as if weighing the answer, then nodded once.
“Fair enough.”
Tap, tap, tap, tap.
Red for the roses, white for the veil, one to remember, one to betray.
