The incredulity on Chaos’s face was impossible to miss. “Because I’m me.”
“Egomaniac,” Kingston said through a cough.
“My blood wasn’t the answer,” Grim pointed out.
Chaos blinked at him. “So?”
A massive shadow stretched behind Grim, rising like some kind of real-life nightmare.
“Jesus, they’re scary,” Rosie murmured.
I nodded my agreement. It didn’t seem to matter how many immortal beings we added to our army; the power was always intimidating. And the horsemen definitely topped that list.
“What do you suggest we try then, Grimsby?” Chaos snapped.
“I don’t know, Chaos, it’s not Death’s weapon.”
“Why are we asking him, anyway?” Kingston asked, jerking his thumb at Grim. “He wasn’t even the one with the bright ideas for his weapon. That was Hades.”
As one, every head in the room snapped to the god of the underworld.
He raised his hands in supplication. “Don’t look at me. I deal in souls, not war.”
Mmm, that man didn’t talk nearly enough. His voice was like warm honey. I wondered if I could pay him to record some bedtime stories for my future kid to listen to.
“Moira?” Sunday said, and I blinked a few times, realizing I’d let my mind wander again.
“Sorry, what?”
“Do you have any ideas?”
“Oh, no. Sorry, babycakes, but this is all way above my pay grade.”
Sunday frowned and wandered over to where Chaos had set the weapon back down so he could wipe the remaining blood off his hand... onto his pant leg. Classy.
A snort from Kingston drew my attention.
“What?”
“It’s just funny. You saying anything is above your pay grade. I thought you were the great and powerful Ozma.”
“Fuck off, fluffy. I’m entirely capa—” My words cut off as the world went white and my ears began to ring.
Shit, I was being thrown into a vision.
Not a bad thing, given the situation, but potentially inconvenient depending on what the universe wanted to show me. I had no control over the whys or hows of what I saw. It could be something significant, like when I saw Sunday in danger, or it could be as stupid as a snowfall warning. Fate was fickle that way. Some may even call her a cunt. Not me, but some.
My visions weren’t always clear; they were snapshots of many different moments shoved into my brain all at once. This one was no exception. I was assaulted with sights and sounds. Decimated grass soaked in blood, hazy echoes of fallen soldiers dressed in uniforms of red, gray, and blue, the copper scent of blood permeating the air. It was too much and not enough for me to lock onto all at once. The scenes repeated, this time from different angles. I caught the blast of a cannon, body after body strewn along the ground, weapons abandoned at their sides. Before I could focus on any particular detail, I was tugged into something new. A Tron meets Alice in Wonderland display of color and energy whirling all around me like one massive color tornado. Lines of power shot out from the cyclone. Magenta, blue, red, green, and even white formed a spiderweb of energy, the pulse stronger where they bisected.
I was drawn closer, a hand appearing in view holding the blade we’d been trying to attune. It was shoved into the blazing lines, instantly absorbing the prismatic glow. I could feel the energy building to a breaking point, the power coalescing into a tempest. If I didn’t get out of here, I feared I’d end up consumed.
The energy exploded outward, flinging me back and knocking me out of both the power field and the vision.
Just as quickly as it started, it was over. I swayed where I stood, a warm hand wrapped around my bicep, holding me up.
“Elphie? You okay?” Kingston asked, concern coating his words.
“Y-yeah,” I stuttered, my tongue thick in my mouth as my mind reconnected with my body.
