Page 146 of Evermore

Minerva gripped my arm. “Sometimes children need a simple answer.”

Thea rapped her knuckles against the door in a pattern that couldn’t possibly be as complicated as she was making it seem. A panel slid open at eye level, then quickly closed. Locks clickedand the door swung inward, revealing a dark man with a beard that put Tuck’s to shame.

“‘Bout time you showed up,” he grumbled, but his eyes crinkled with a smile as he saw Quill in tow. “Hello, Miss Quill. The little ones have been asking when you’d bring the pup back.”

“Hello to you too, Vincent,” Thea said, stepping inside. “Sorry for the delay. The steps were extra gruesome today.”

His gaze landed on me with sudden suspicion. “Who’s this, then?”

Before Thea could answer, I stepped forward with what I hoped was my least threatening smile. “I’m Paesha.”

Vincent stared at me for a long moment. “Welcome to the Underground.” He gestured for us to follow him through the arched passage beyond.

I’d expected a lot of things from an underground city. A few sad little hovels, perhaps. Some candles stuck in sconces. Maybe a puddle or two for ambiance.

What I hadn’t expected was this, which was really unfair to Thea, to be honest.

The passage opened into a vast cavern that seemed to stretch for miles, its ceiling so high that for a moment I forgot we were underground. The damn steps made sense now. Lanterns hung from wrought iron poles, casting warm light over what could only be described as a proper city. Buildings crafted from stone and metal hugged the walls, creating tiers of new homes and shops that climbed upward like a wedding cake. Wooden walkways connected the levels, crisscrossing the open space. In the center, a large circular plaza hosted what appeared to be a market, with stalls arranged around a fountain that somehow, impossibly, sparkled with fresh water.

“Holy shit,” I breathed.

“I think ‘holy shit’ covers it pretty well,” Thea said, beaming with pride. “Come on, I’ll give you the tour. We picked this spot because of the natural water source.”

As we followed her into the heart of the city, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the people. There were so many of them, hundreds at least, going about their daily lives as if they weren’t living beneath the streets of a city that had been remade by a goddess. There were still very few children in Requiem, but the ones that were here chased each other between market stalls. An old woman hung laundry on a line strung between buildings. A group of men played cards at a makeshift table.

“You built all of this?” I asked Thea, awe tempering my usual snark.

She shook her head. “I helped. I created the frameworks, the supports, the things that needed my particular touch.” She flexed her fingers, and I noticed the slight tremor in them. “But they did the rest. Turns out, people are pretty damn resourceful when they’re trying to avoid being ‘renewed.’”

“Why did they come down here?” Quill asked, watching the group of children playing with a ball made of scraps as Boo circled their feet trying to catch it. “Aeris made everything pretty.”

Thea’s lips thinned. Clearly her thoughts on Aeris had taken a complete turn around. “Pretty doesn’t mean better, Quill. When Aeris ‘fixed’ Requiem, she didn’t ask anyone what they wanted. She just changed it. Changed their homes, their livelihoods, she welcomed gods that no one wanted.”

We reached the edge of the market where a small crowd had gathered. As they parted to let us through, I saw what had drawn their attention: an empty space where a foundation had been marked out with string.

“New home?” I asked.

Thea nodded. “The Porters. Family of five coming in from the outskirts. Lost everything when their farm was ‘improved’ into a golden meadow. Can’t eat gold.”

She approached the site, rolling up her sleeves. The crowd murmured with excitement, and I realized they were here to watch her work. Minerva guided Quill to the front of the gathering, securing a prime viewing spot.

“How many times have you done this?” I asked quietly.

“Lost count,” Thea admitted. “Dozens? Maybe hundreds by now. It started small, a safe room here, a hidden passage there. Then more people came. And more.”

“And it doesn’t hurt? Using your power this much?”

She gave me a tired smile. “Everything worth doing hurts a little.”

She is lying, Levanya whispered in my mind.It hurts more than a little.

I could see the strain on Thea’s face, the way she steadied herself before kneeling beside the foundation. This wasn’t solely fatigue. This was the bone deep exhaustion of someone who’d pushed their power beyond its limit too many times. The Maestro used to do this to her and now she was doing it to herself. And she wasn’t even using her forge for respite. This was bad. Dangerous even.

I grabbed her arm, kneeling beside her to whisper. “You are draining yourself. You know what they said about Archer. He used all of his power to hold time when Quill fell in that cavern. He would have died, Althea. We’re not meant to use everything.”

“But he didn’t die,” she argued with a hiss. “And neither will I.”

“Archer didn’t die because,” I looked around to make sure no one could hear me. “Mine and Quill’s magic saved him. We’re bonded now because of it.”