Over the next several days, Brannoc brought every healer he knew in the city and its surrounding regions to Maeve’s side. Each of them assessed her and gave the same basic information. Whatever toxic state the Frost had set her on the path of had been stopped, but no one knew how to reverse what had already transpired. She was fine physically, but no one could heal her mentally or spiritually.

  Greg rarely left her side, only to relieve himself or get Brannoc some tea, but otherwise was cross-legged on the floor beside her steadily breathing body. The more time passed, the heavier the guilt became. He’d had a chance to save her. All he had to do was make a sacrifice. Half his power, and she’d be able to fight this off herself. At least that’s what the Deva had implied.

  “You need to get out of this house. Go for a walk.” Isabella tried coaxing him for the sixth time in as many days. “You’ve got notifications to clear still.”

  He didn’t respond. Brannoc was sitting right behind him, but even if he hadn’t been, it was unlikely he’d have anything to say. The justicars had been informed about Kael and the army of Frost monstrosities in the forest, but Brannoc doubted they’d be deployed to clear them. They’d search the city for Kael, but the powers that be would set contracts for the forest.

  Just thinking about Kael made his blood boil. He’d be torn to shreds if he fought him alone. He and Autumn had barely been able to keep him off balance together, but that didn’t stop him from imagining sticking him full of holes.

  Then there was Autumn. He hadn’t seen or heard from her since that day. Were it not for Isabella and Brannoc bringing her up in conversation, there would be enough evidence for him to convince himself she’d been a hallucination. That night, when she’d told him in no uncertain terms that he was an emotionless wall she’d been dating for five years, had been the catalyst in the early days on Etheon. It had been less than a year, yet he’d changed so much.

  “Need you to run an errand for me.”

  Greg acknowledged Brannoc with a slight grunt, not bothering to look back at him.

  “There’s a girl. Been sitting in the front yard for days now. Either run her off or go talk to her. Then you’re going to Oletta.” He said, shuffling some papers around in his lap.

  “Who’s Oletta?” Greg asked, toying his fingers through Maeve’s vibrant red hair.

  “Where’s Oletta.” Brannoc corrected him. “About fifty miles southeast of here.”

  “You want me to leave the city?” Greg shook his head before throwing a look over his shoulder. “No chance.”

  “Alright. You stay with her and I’ll go.” Brannoc shrugged and then pursed his lips as if remembering something important. “Oh…except I’m the healer.”

  Rolling his eyes, he sighed. “What’s in Oletta?”

  “Temple to Ruarth. No temples in Rhobair.”

  “You want me to go to another town to visit a temple? Why?” Greg grimaced. That seemed like a colossal waste of time. If The Mother Below was going to help them, why would he need to be in a temple to talk to her? Seemed to him, she just didn’t give a shit.

  “Find a priest. Find a healer. Or talk to the Mother yourself.” Brannoc shrugged. “Don’t care which.”

  “Oh, yeah. A god is just gonna talk to me just cause I walked into a special building?” Greg slumped and looked back down at Maeve. Brannoc couldn’t go, obviously, but if he thought it had a chance of helping…he couldn’t exactly say no. That didn’t mean he was going to like it. “Who’s outside?”

  Brannoc let out a low sound from his diaphragm that sounded like crackling coals. “Pale girl. Silver hair. Smells like a celestial.”

  “Smells like?” Greg peered over his shoulder at the man again. It was obviously Seraphae. How did she find him here though? And what could she possibly want? He pushed himself to his feet and stared down at Maeve for a few more seconds before turning and heading for the door.

  Her head snapped up from where she sat in the grass the moment the door opened, and she stood from her cross-legged position in one graceful movement. She was still ridiculously beautiful, but fatigue showed in the bags under her eyes and the struggle to keep her shoulders squared.

  “Greg,” she said softly. “I was starting to think you were just going to leave me out here…”

  “Nope, came to run you off.” He flicked his hand idly in her direction. “Brannoc doesn’t want you on his lawn. Clear off.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “I need to talk to you, Greg.”

  “Oh, you need to talk to me?” he scoffed. “Tell your mom to help my friend and we’ll talk.”

  She took a step closer to the porch where Greg had perched himself on the top step. “My mother? I’m assuming you’re talking about The Mother Below. That’s not how talking to gods works.”

  Greg shrugged. “Doesn’t stop her cronies from showing up whenever they damn well please. You keep showing up when nobody asked.”

  Her eyes narrowed like she was going to continue the charade for a split second before softening. “Fine.”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “Fine?”

  “You hear me out for twenty minutes, and I’ll talk to The Mother.” Seraphae shrugged. “I can’t guarantee she’ll do anything, and I have to leave the city to do it…but fine.”

  “I don’t like it. She was in a party with the Kael kid.” Isabella said in his mind.

  Greg glared across the grass at her for a beat, contemplating. As far as he could tell hearing her out didn’t have a downside. The justicars would surely have turned her life inside out by now looking for Kael, so he doubted he’d need to worry about that. It was beyond him how being in a building was necessary to talk to a god, especially for someone like her, but that must have been what she was talking about.

  “Brannoc wants me to go to Oletta to pray to your mother.” Greg said flatly. “If you want to tag along, I won’t stop you.” He turned on a heel and walked back inside.

  Isabella stayed mercifully silent as Brannoc led him out the back and into the shed near the training yard. He dug out the old floating disc and offered it to him.

  “Need help getting it going?” He asked.

  “No, think I’ve got it.” Greg took the three foot wide disc and tossed it up in front of him. It flattened out as it fell and expanded to about five feet in diameter before halting about a foot off the ground and hovering there. He took a moment and looked past Brannoc into the house. “You think I’ll be able to find someone that can help?”

  “Think we’ve exhausted resources here.” Brannoc said, his jaw shifting back and forth. “Need to do something.”

  Greg nodded, took a deep breath, and hopped up onto the disc. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  He’d never actually piloted the disc, but watching Brannoc do it made it look like a hoverboard or a handleless segway. He leaned forward, and the disc lurched to life, zooming forward and toward the back wall. Holding his arms out, he quickly adjusted to bring himself to a stop. He’d never been in any danger of falling. Whatever enchantment was on the disc stopped that from being an issue, running into shit was another matter.

  “Sure you got it?” Brannoc asked with a raised brow. “Can rent you a murmox to ride.”

  “No, no…” Greg waved him off and widened his stance a bit, easing the disc toward the side gate. “Just gonna take me a minute. Can you open the gate for me?”

  Brannoc waved his hand, a gust of wind sweeping up the side of the gate and unhooking the latch. It creaked open and Greg zipped around the house back into the front yard where Seraphae’s eyes went wide.

  “You’re leaving now?”

  “You can stay if you’re not ready.” Greg shrugged.

  She frowned and shook her head. “I’m ready. I need a ride, though.”

  Greg rolled his eyes and took in a sharp breath. “Get on.”

  ###

  He’d only left Rhobair twice in the almost year that he’d been on Etheon. Once with Brannoc to visit his wife and Maeve’s father’s grave sites, and then through the portal. Maybe it was just because no one seemed to question Brannoc, or perhaps the citywide manhunt for a Gifted, but leaving the city this time was a hassle.

  There had never been a line of people waiting to leave before. Not that he’d seen, anyway. There was now. Seraphae stood behind him, her hands resting on his waist. The action was wholly unnecessary, but he understood the reaction. He’d done the same to Brannoc his first time on the disc, though his grip leaned closer to ‘oh shit I’m going to fall off and die’ than her relatively casual one.

  Once they’d gotten to the front of the line, a justicar there with a lime colored undercut peppered them with questions until what Greg assumed to be her superior approached. She informed the interrogator that Seraphae had already been questioned, and “That one is Brannoc Stroud’s apprentice.” He’d never been called that before, but apparently the distinction allowed them to pass without further hassle.

  The disc hovered above the road as they zipped past stumps of trees to the right leading to Monarch’s Forest and slower travelers to the left. Leaving the shelter of the fog that hung over Rhobair and being exposed to the sun for the first time in months left Greg’s skin tingling. There was some health concern with getting a lack of sunlight on earth, but he wasn’t smart enough to know if that applied here. Hell, he was pretty sure that wasn’t even the same sun. Did that even matter?

  He glanced over his shoulder at Seraphae. “You wanted to talk. Now’s your chance.”

  She didn’t speak at first. One of her hands left his waist and went to toy with the end of her messy braid. “How did you know what I was?”

  “A little birdy told me.” Greg’s eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. “That’s what you wanted to talk about? This is going to be a long ride.”

  “No.” She cleared her throat and continued. “It’s just…my kind aren’t exactly safe. So when we’re outed, it often times means we need to upend our lives.”

  “I haven’t outed you.” Greg said, maneuvering the disc slightly off the road as they passed an elephant-like creature with enormous webbed feet pulling a covered wagon.

  “I appreciate that, but I don’t understand why.”

  “Why I haven’t taken to the rooftops to let everyone know you’re a demigod?” he scoffed and shook his head. “Basic decency? I’m not a narc.”

  “Narc?” She asked, having replaced her hand on his hip.

  “Yeah…like a rat? Someone that uses other people’s secrets to get ahead.”

  “Oh…” Seraphae gave a nod. “Thank you for not being a narc.” She said in an awkward attempt at Earth slang. “I want to talk to you about Kael.”

  “Mhmm…” He knew it was coming, but he was curious how long it would take her to get to the actual point. “How you’re sorry for what he’s done, and you had nothing to do with it?”

  When she didn’t immediately say anything, he thought about turning around to look at her. The matteroffact tone that came out next gave him a clear picture of the stern and slightly offended look that had to be strewn across her visage. “Why would I apologize for something I had nothing to do with? You already knew I was looking into the alchemists…did you think I had some knowledge of his involvement?”

  “You were in a party with him. If I recall correctly, you called him and Doran your closest friends. Hard to hide turning people into monsters from your friends.”

  She let out a sigh. “I suppose that’s fair. We did a number of contracts in Monarch’s Forest, and the surrounding areas. When we return from Otella, I want to help you find him.”

  “Assuming the justicars don’t find him first?” Once the road became mostly clear, Greg took a look off to his left out to sea. He’d heard rumblings about the arena, but he’d never seen it before. A bridge wide enough to be a California freeway met a portion of the road that curved off and pushed out to sea.

  A few hundred yards off the coast an enormous building rose from the waves. Certainly not as tall as some of Rhobair’s skyscrapers, but easily ten stories in height and four or five times that long. He’d love to see it one day, but there was business to attend to now.

  “They won’t.” Seraphae said flatly. “He won’t be in the city. He’s too smart for that.”

  “And you know where he’ll be?”

  “I have a few ideas, yes.” She said with a nod. “If you’ll accept my help, I can guide you.”

  Greg turned his body this time, looking into her eyes. The exhaustion was evident. Her eyelids struggled against the sun, but the stark determination in the icy blue left him closer to believing her story than he’d thought he’d be. He gnawed against the inside of his cheek for a moment before looking forward again.

  “I’ll think about it. We’ll see what your mom says about Maeve first.”