I’m both relieved and unsettled when the roses remain at a distance and the path stays clear.
Striker doesn’t move from where he stands ahead of Jonah; both men are now clearly waiting for me.
For the first time in a long time, I wish for boots.
Holding my breath, I step onto the earth.
I’m completely unprepared for the power that strikes through me or the fact that I recognize it.
Fuck me.
My head snaps up, and my voice is a snarl as I dart forward and snag Jonah’s arm once more. “Explain to me. Right now.Why does this ground contain the same power as the White Wand?”
Jonah is frozen, a giant of a man whose face is suddenly pale. “Because Typhon himself is buried in the next realm, and this is where his followers died.”
28. PEYTON PRICE
This place was a battleground. Soaked in blood and covered in darkness.
And now Jonah is admitting that we’re headed into the realm where Typhon himself is caged.
“What exactly did Vanguard leave behind?” I ask, and then a horrifying possibility occurs to me. “Are we here to free the titan?”
Even as I ask the question, I doubt it could be true.
I saw both Jonah’s and Vanguard’s memories of the battle against the primordial deity. They hated him. They would not be coming back to free him.
Jonah’s exclamation confirms it. “Fuck no! To free that old god would be to rain hellfire down on the entire world.”
“And yet some of his bones made it out,” I snap, needing answers.
Jonah’s jaw clenches. “He deliberately shaved off multiple bones before the battle and gave them to his followers so that his evil would live on even if he was defeated.”
“What happened to those followers?”
“The Valkyrie Queen hunted them down and killed them.”
“You mean Lady Tirelli. Or Amalia Avery, as she was also known.”
“No,” Jonah snaps. “I speak of her mother.” His shoulders sink. “But yes, Amalia was eventually given all three boxes. As I understand it, one of the boxes was intended as a decoy. The other two contained the bones.”
“So the Valkyries harbored Typhon’s power.” I shake my head. “Instead of destroying the bones.”
“There is no destroying the bones,” Jonah says. “Just as there is no controlling them. They are true to their owner. They seek only power.”
Where he stands ahead of Jonah, Striker has remained quiet, but his forehead creases at Jonah’s assertion that the bones can’t be destroyed.
The woman in the park said the same thing. She claimed that it was impossible to destroy the bones, and if I thought I had seen it happen, then my eyes deceived me.
Vanguard’s warning about the realm suddenly returns to me: Do not believe what you see. Only what you feel.
Where he stands ahead of us, Striker’s lips part, and I wait for him to counter Jonah’s claim, but all he says is, “We need to keep moving.”
“Do we, though?” I ask, the soles of my feet prickling uncomfortably against the power within the dirt. “We could turn around right now.”
Jonah begins to protest. “No?—”
But Striker’s response is firm. “I gave my word,” he says quietly. “I won’t break it.”
