Chapter 8 Between Worlds
The Crossroads existed in the space between breaths, between heartbeats, between one reality and the next.
Jeron's shadow travel deposited us in what looked like an endless marketplace suspended in a void of swirling colors. Platforms of solid light connected impossible structures, and beings I couldn't even begin to classify moved between stalls selling everything from bottled starlight to what looked suspiciously like captured dreams. The air tasted like cinnamon and electricity, and the sound of a thousand languages created a symphony of chaos.
"Stay close," Jeron murmured, his hand finding mine. "The Crossroads are neutral territory, but that doesn't mean they're safe. Pickpockets, con artists, and worse operate here."
"Worse than an army of Void Hunters?" I asked, my eyes tracking a creature with too many arms haggling over a glowing orb.
"Much worse," Lysander said cheerfully, appearing on my other side. "At least Void Hunters are predictable. Here, you never know who's going to try to steal your soul."
"Comforting," I muttered.
Kael and Theron flanked us as we moved deeper into the marketplace, their presence a silent warning to anyone who might be watching. The crowd parted around us, and I realized people were staring. At me. My silver-glowing hands were apparently a beacon announcing exactly what I was.
"Can I make this stop?" I asked, holding up my hands.
"Not yet," Theron said. "Your power is still too new, too wild. Give it time to settle."
"How much time?"
"Optimistically? A few days." He caught my expression and smiled apologetically. "Until then, you're essentially a walking advertisement that the Goddess of Ruin is alive and in the Crossroads."
"Fantastic," I said. "That won't attract attention at all."
"Which is why we need to move quickly," Jeron said. He led us toward a structure that looked like it had been carved from a single massive gemstone. The entrance was guarded by two beings made entirely of living flame, but they stepped aside when they saw Jeron. Apparently, being the God of Death came with certain privileges.
Inside, the noise of the marketplace faded to a muted hum. The interior was surprisingly cozy, with plush seating and walls lined with bottles of liquid that shifted colors in the light. Behind a long bar stood a woman who made Elara look plain by comparison. She had skin like polished bronze and hair that moved like water, and when she smiled, I saw fangs.
"Jeron," she purred, her voice like honey and smoke. "It's been decades. I thought you'd forgotten about me."
"I've been busy, Nyx," he replied coolly.
Her gaze slid to me, and those predatory eyes narrowed with interest. "And this must be the cause of all the commotion. The half-breed everyone's hunting." She leaned across the bar, studying me with unsettling intensity. "She doesn't look like much."
"That's what everyone keeps saying," I said, irritation sharpening my tone. "Right before I prove them wrong."
Nyx laughed, delighted. "Oh, she has teeth. I like that." She straightened, her attention shifting back to Jeron. "What do you need?"
"Information," Jeron said. "And passage to the Spire of Echoes."
The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. Nyx's smile vanished, replaced by something wary. "The Spire? Are you insane? No one goes there. The Council guards it with everything they have."
"Which is why we're asking you," Lysander said smoothly, sliding onto a barstool. "You know every smuggler route in existence. If there's a way in, you know it."
"Knowing and sharing are two different things," Nyx said. "Information like that costs. A lot."
"Name your price," Kael said.
Nyx's gaze swept over all of us, calculating. "A favor. From each of you. No questions, no refusals. When I call it in, you answer."
"Absolutely not," Jeron said immediately.
"Then good luck storming the most heavily fortified prison in existence," Nyx said, turning away.
"Wait," I said, stepping forward. "What if I add something to the deal? Something valuable enough that you only need one favor instead of four."
Nyx turned back, eyebrow raised. "And what could you possibly offer me, little goddess?"
I thought about the Void Wyrm curled up in Jeron's ruined fortress, about the connection I'd formed with it. About how I'd reached into its mind and offered understanding instead of violence.
"I can read beings," I said, the words tumbling out before I'd fully thought them through. "Their essence, their truth. I did it with the Wyrm, and I think I can do it with others. You deal in information, right? Imagine being able to know if someone's lying without Lysander's gift. Imagine being able to assess the value of anything or anyone instantly."
Nyx's expression shifted from skeptical to intrigued. "You can do that?"
"I think so," I admitted. "I haven't exactly had time to practice, but the power is there. I can feel it."
Through the bond, I felt Jeron's alarm, but also his resignation. He knew I was right about this being valuable, even if he hated the risk.
"Prove it," Nyx said. "Read me."
I hesitated. I'd connected with the Wyrm through desperation and instinct, not skill. What if I couldn't do it again? What if I was wrong and I'd just made us look foolish?
Theron's hand found my shoulder, and I felt his calm energy flowing into me through the bond. Trust yourself, his presence seemed to say.
I took a breath and reached out with my power, letting that silver light extend toward Nyx like invisible fingers. For a moment, nothing happened. Then suddenly I was drowning in sensation. Centuries of memories, emotions, secrets. Nyx had been a warrior once, had lost everything in a war the Council started. She'd built this place as a sanctuary, as revenge, as a way to help people the Council couldn't control.
"You're not what you pretend to be," I said softly, pulling back from the connection. "The dangerous merchant, the morally grey information broker. That's armor. Underneath, you're just trying to save people like the Council couldn't save you."
Nyx's face had gone completely blank, her predatory mask shattered. For a long moment, she just stared at me. Then she laughed, but it sounded brittle.
"Well," she said. "That was invasive."
"Sorry," I said, meaning it. "I didn't mean to go that deep."
"No, you're right. That's valuable." She poured herself a drink from one of the color-shifting bottles and downed it in one swallow. "Alright. Here's my offer. I'll give you the route to the Spire and provide supplies. In exchange, the little goddess reads three people of my choosing, and Jeron owes me one favor."
"Two people," Jeron countered. "And the favor expires after one year."
"Three people, favor expires in five years," Nyx shot back.
"Done," I said before Jeron could argue further. Through the bond, I felt his frustration, but this was worth it. We needed that route.
Nyx smiled, sharp and calculating again. "Excellent. I'll have everything ready by dawn. In the meantime, you should rest. There are rooms upstairs, warded against scrying and attack. You'll be safe here."
"Why are you helping us?" Kael asked suspiciously. "The Council would pay well for information about our location."
"They would," Nyx agreed. "But I've spent centuries watching them destroy anything that threatens their power. Maybe it's time someone fought back." Her gaze settled on me. "Besides, I like her. Anyone who makes the Council nervous enough to send armies is someone worth knowing."
We followed Nyx up a staircase that seemed to spiral higher than the building's exterior suggested was possible. She led us to a suite of interconnected rooms, each one surprisingly luxurious.
"Food and supplies are in the common area," she said. "Try not to destroy anything. These wards took me decades to perfect." She paused at the door, looking back at me. "That thing you did, reading my essence. Can you turn it off?"
"I think so," I said. "Why?"
"Because if you can't, you're going to go mad," she said bluntly. "Every being you encounter will be an open book, and trust me, most people's inner lives are not pleasant reading."
"I'll figure it out," I promised.
"Good." She glanced at the four gods surrounding me. "And boys? Try to keep the territorial nonsense to a minimum. The other guests don't need to hear it."
Then she was gone, and I was alone with four gods in a suite that suddenly felt too small.
"That went well," Lysander said, throwing himself onto an absurdly comfortable-looking couch. "We have a route, a place to rest, and Athena discovered a new terrifying power. Productive day."
"Terrifying is right," I said, sinking into a chair. "I didn't mean to invade her privacy like that. I just reached out and suddenly I knew everything."
"You'll learn control," Theron assured me. "All new powers are overwhelming at first."
"Speaking of overwhelming," Kael said, his amber eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made heat crawl up my spine. "We need to talk about what happens next. The Spire is dangerous. If something goes wrong, if you're captured, the Council will do worse than kill you."
"I know," I said quietly.
"Do you?" Jeron moved to stand in front of me, and I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. "They'll torture you for information. They'll try to break the bond, which will feel like dying slowly. They'll use you against us, against anyone who might help you. This isn't a game, Athena."
"I never thought it was," I said, standing so I wasn't looking up at him anymore. "But what's the alternative? Hide forever? Let them control the narrative? I need to know what the real prophecy says. I need to understand why they're so afraid of me."
"Because you're powerful enough to end them," Kael said simply. "That's reason enough."
"Maybe," I agreed. "Or maybe there's more to it. Either way, I'm not backing down."
Jeron's jaw tightened, but through the bond, I felt his acceptance. He didn't like it, would probably never like it, but he understood.
"Then we prepare," he said finally. "We train you, we plan for every contingency, and we make sure you're ready for whatever we find at the Spire."
"Starting tomorrow," Theron added. "Tonight, you rest. You've been through enough for one day."
"One day," I repeated with a slightly hysterical laugh. "This morning I was restoring books in Portland. Now I'm a goddess planning a prison break with four mates and a tame Void Wyrm. My therapist would have a field day."
Lysander's grin was wicked. "Oh, I'm keeping you. You're delightfully unhinged."
Despite everything, I smiled. Maybe I was unhinged. Maybe this whole situation was impossible and terrifying and completely insane.
But for the first time in my life, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
Even if where I was supposed to be was a neutral zone marketplace between realms, planning to break into an impenetrable prison while an entire council of gods wanted me dead.
At least it wasn't boring.