Page 77 of Evermore

“If she dies by a god’s hand now, there won’t be another life,” I finished. “Her soul is too fragile. She’ll simply cease to exist. She’s died too many times at Ezra’s hands and her soul can’t survive another.”

Archer stopped pacing. “So what do we do?”

“The Fates are the only ones who can help now,” I said quietly.

“The Fates haven’t spoken to the gods since Ezra convinced everyone to bind them to their loom,” Tuck added, lowering his chin to look at me through the top of his eyes. “They’re dangerous. Even for you. And unpredictable.”

“But necessary,” I said.

Archer’s jaw clenched. “Then I’m coming with you.”

“No. You’re staying here.”

“Like hell I am.”

“Someone needs to watch the Parlor,” Tuck said smoothly. “Make sure our… interests are protected.”

“I’m not a child who needs a babysitter and I’m not falling for that shit again.”

“There’s nothing to fall for. Much to all of our chagrin, you couldn’t get into Etherium if you tried because you are mortal. Only gods may enter.”

“And demigods,” Tuck corrected.

“Not the fucking point, Tuck.”

Archer opened his mouth to argue but Thea rose, moving to stand beside Archer. “After what happened with Alastor we need to be smart about this.” She flexed her fingers as if reaching for the power she’d used to cage a god. “Having you here with us sounds like the safest thing for Quill.”

He sank back. “You too?”

She circled him to lean on the desk between us, her back to me as she crossed her arms over her chest. “They’ve said you can’t go. You won’t go to see the king.” He opened his mouth to speak and she threw up a hand to stop him. “I’m not telling you to. Live your life. Do whatever you want. But these are the facts. You can’t follow them to Etherium. Come home with me. Help me pass the time with Quill until they figure out how to free Paesha and then we all get what we want.”

“And what do you get out of this?” Tuck asked. “What do you want, Forger?”

Thea whipped her head toward Tuck. “What did you just call me?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “You’re a Forger, aren’t you?”

She pulled a handful of tiny metal pellets from her pocket and dropped them from her left to right palm, letting them meld to beautifully crafted chains as they dropped. “Like my grandfather.”

Archer swiped the chains from her, letting them dangle between his fingers. “Imagine creating without effort. Needing something specific and giving it to yourself in the next second.”

“First of all, there’s great effort in everything I do. You cannot create a design on a wish. Mechanically, I need to know the exact size and structure. Also, there’s not a thing I can build with my magic that I can’t also make with enough time in my forge. I won’t deplete my power if I don’t need to. That was the only lesson I learned from the Maestro, thank you very much.”

“You were bound to him also?” I asked as Tuck pulled the chain away from Archer to study the design.

“I was bound to him longer than any of the other Syndicate members. Those are the people that formed a family outside of him. Maybe in spite of him. We helped people where we could. But now, with the Maestro gone, most have gone their own ways.”

“Let me ask you a question,” Archer said, pulling a coin from his pocket to roll over the top of his knuckles. “Where are the people in Silbath? I’ve never seen another person out on the streets.”

She lifted a shoulder, eyes slightly narrowing as she answered. “You have to know where to look.”

“If I were king, would you tell me?” he asked casually, eyes locked on his coin as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

The energy changed in the room, all three gods carefully keeping our eyes away as he casually threw out the question. He’d done it to bait us. Archer had always been smart, even if he was irrational and occasionally reckless. He wouldn’t have been such a talented gambler if he was anything else. He could read a face and a room as well as anyone.

Thea matched his energy, letting her words drag out. “You wouldn’t bemyking, so I couldn’t say. Ask me when you are and we’ll talk.”

“Requiem has no king at all,” he countered. “So who’s in charge?”