“Really?” Re asked. “That fast? Well, done, La-la.”
“Let's not pass out the trophies yet,” Odin said, tugging his leather jacket closed and scanning the area. “We still have to follow the trail.”
And that's what I did. I followed the trail right to where it vanished into the Aether. “He traced. He left here,” I said. “Torrent?”
“On it,” Torrent said and opened a vein of Internet.
Torr could create tubes of Internet Magic that could connect god territories to the Internet on Earth. To form those connections, he had to build the tubes in the Aether. So, if you could walk the Internet, as I could, you could use the tubes like tunnels to slowly traverse the Aether. Normally, that would be a bad idea. The Aether is full of all sorts of magical things, most of which shouldn't be looked at for long or even at all.
Every time someone passed through the Aether, the realm exacted a toll. A price. It took memories. Just little snippets of them. Then it used those bits to fuel itself. But like food in a stomach, those memories didn't get digested immediately. Snippets of god memories filled the Aether, floating about like scenes from a movie played on little screens. And that wasn't all. The Aether was where spells went to grow up. Magical intentions were sent into the Aether by witches, and those intentions grew and grew until they were big enough to manifest. So among the memories also flew symbols of spells.
If you stared too long at the Aether, it wouldn't stare back, but it would make you wish you hadn't looked in the first place.
All that being said, I was going into the Aether to stare at one thing and one thing only—the beaver god's trail. We could follow it to wherever he had gone. But due to the risk, we generally don't take people along for the ride. The Aether is not for sightseeing. So, it would only be Torrent and me going in. Once we tracked the beaver god out of the Aether, we could return for the others and direct their trace.
I took Torrent's hand and stepped into another reality. At least, that's what it felt like. Suddenly, I was in the Inter Realm. It looked just like the normal world except brighter. The glowing streams of information that crossed the landscape added to that. If I wanted to, I could grab one of those streams and let it carry me across the world. Or maybe three feet. It depended on where it was going. But I didn't have to do that with Torrent there. He formed a tunnel around us and pushed it into the Aether.
I directed Torrent, pointing after the scent trail. We crossed what felt like a mile of Aether before we came to the end of the trail.
“There,” I said. “That's where he traced out.”
Torrent took us to the spot and scowled at it. “He's got a ward up. Give me a second.”
This wasn't unusual. It would have been more noteworthy if the beaver god didn't have a ward guarding his territory. Gods generally don't like leaving the metaphysical door open. But Torrent's secret god magic was an ability to unmake magic. We tried to keep it a secret because if any gods outside of our circle found out about what he could do, they'd probably start hunting him. Magic like that—anti-magic, if you will—was deadly to gods. And most gods had difficulty killing another god. It was like a fail-safe clause for god magic. But Torrent, the unique godthat he was, didn't have that problem.
At the moment, Torr was just using his Anti-Magic Magic to break a ward. I guess I shouldn't say “just.” Ward removal wasn't something gods could do either, and they wouldn't be pleased to know that there was a god who could bypass their magical security systems.
As he worked, I watched him. It was mainly to have something other than the Aether to focus on, but I also contemplated that magic of his. If he had it, couldn't it manifest in other gods? It would explain how the trickster got into all those god territories. There we were, baffled at something that should have been impossible, when we knew it was absolutely possible. Torrent was proof of that.
“There,” Torrent said as he waved a hand before him. “All good.”
He pushed the Inter Realm tunnel forward, taking us out of the Aether, and paused. In the Internet, we were invisible to everyone else. It presented us with the opportunity to look around the beaver god's territory before he knew we were there. Most gods could glamour themselves invisible, but that didn't mask their scent, and if another god really looked, they'd be able to notice a magical presence. Not so for us. The tube of Inter Realm hid us completely. There was always the chance that the beaver god had felt his ward collapse, but even then, he wouldn't be able to see us to launch an attack.
That is, if he'd been there.
We crossed a marshy land to reach a massive log cabin. It was cradled within lush mountains, and a lake reflected the sunshine off to one side. Despite the spongy ground, it was a cheerful place. Simple. Comfortable. A good refuge.
The door was at least fifteen feet high, but we didn't have to open it. In the Internet, we could walk through walls.Technically, we were in another realm, peeking at this one, not really pulling a Casper. We let ourselves into the beaver god's house and searched all the rooms. He wasn't there, but we did find one of those crazy villain walls with photographs and clippings. They still print newspapers? Evidently. Oh, wait. Those clippings were from the Hermes Herald.
“Get me closer to that wall of psychotic crafts, Torr,” I said.
“Yup.” He stepped over to the wall and the tunnel of Internet flowed into it.
I got up close and looked over the articles and photographs. The pictures were mainly of Azrael. It felt like confirmation of our theory. The articles were about him too, but there were also stories about the Wild Fey kids, me, and my family. In addition to that, the beaver had pinned notes to his log wall. Notes about Moonshine, the Golden Citadel, the Wild Fey kids, and our employees. He was very thorough.
“This guy has been studying us,” I said. “And Hermes has been unknowingly helping him.”
“And then the trickster took Hermes's caduceus,” Torr said. “Coincidence?”
“I don't think so.”
“Neither do I.”
“And I don't think he's done either. The beaver god, I mean,” I said. “All of this implies that he has more planned than busting up a few dams.”
“Maybe he's just a super fan.” Torrent smiled.
I snorted a laugh. “Please, never lose that optimism, Torr. It's soul-warming. And I need the reminder that not everyone who comes against us is evil.”
