“Not just any blood,” she says. “Blood from four Idols.”
That’s a complication. Murder is once more a high probability.
“So we list the worst Idols and pick them off,” Charming says with a shrug.
I hate that he’s on the same wavelength as me.
“Not quite,” Gwyneth mutters. “The blood needs to be given willingly.”
Nobody moves as that information sinks into our bones. Four arrogant beings willing to give us that which will alter the course of their lives? I’m sure they’re lining up to donate.
“I’m sure Eron would be willing,” Malachi says.
I nod in agreement. My mirror man may have cracked, but he’s been fighting to be whole for many generations. I still have a promise to keep when it comes to his missing shards, and thatthought leads to another being I think I could get to agree to it, for a price.
“Poseidon will do it. I have a debt to settle with him, but I know he wants freedom from his watery grave. I promised him that, and if it means giving me some blood to achieve it, then I’m sure he’ll do it.”
“That leaves two,” Theo says.
I slide a piece of delicious capon into my mouth and try not to think about the two feathered creatures roosting on my feet like a pair of slippers. I hope I’m not eating their best friends from school or their great-aunt Mabel. “Two more self-important, power-hoarding, narrative-obsessed beings willing to bleed for the greater good. Easy. We’ll just?—”
Genie floats lower, almost touching the food, and lifts his hand. “Actually,” he says, wiggling his fingers like this is a delightful party trick and not a sentence that is about to rearrange my entire understanding of reality, “one.”
I blink. “One what?”
“One more,” he clarifies. “You only need one more.”
Theo frowns. “Explain.”
Genie places a hand on his chest. “I’m an Idol.”
Charming chokes on his wine. Malachi freezes mid-bite. Silence ensues in that stunned,what-in-the-blazing-fairy-tale-did-you-just-saykind of way. My brain trips over itself trying to make sense of those four words.
“You,” I say slowly, pointing my fork at him, “are a floating chaos genie with mockery issues and a questionable relationship with a broom.”
Sir Sweeps-A-Lot lifts from the sofa like we woke him. Do brooms sleep? Do they dream? What of?
“Yes,” Genie agrees. “But also an Idol.”
Everyone leans in to study Genie closer. No, not a genie.Thedamn genie. All this time?
“At what point were you planning on sharing that delightful piece of information?” I ask, because someone needs to anchor this conversation before I descend into a spiral of broom behavior.
Genie shrugs. “It never came up.”
“You have been with us,” I say, voice rising, “for multiple near-death experiences, several emotional revelations, at least one incident involving aggressive pastries, and now you decide to mention you’re one of the all-powerful beings controlling this realm?”
“In my defense, I did try to throw a teacup earlier. That felt like a clue.”
I stare at him, then glance at Gwyneth. “Good news. We’re one step closer to saving the realm.” At least everyone else is as shell-shocked as I am. “Bad news,” I add, gesturing at Genie, “our success hinges on finding one more Idol. Unless anyone is hiding a secret identity they’d like to share? Speak now or prepare to be stabbed with a fork.”
Theo exhales a quiet laugh. Nash’s shoulder presses into mine. And for the first time since this all began, the impossible doesn’t feel quite so impossible. Now I just need to figure out what my dark knight is hiding from me and why.
Nash predictably rises and nods at the table. “I have research. Don’t wait up for me.”
I twist my lips to the side and shoot a thought to Theo. He catches my gaze and nods once in agreement.
Sorry, Nash Stirling. The time for secrets is over, and we are in the era of revelations.
