Page 97 of Evermore (The Never Sky #3)
Alastor’s eyes met mine across the table and I thought for sure he would stand against me, but instead he looked to Paesha. “I stand nowhere in this conflict.”
“Coward,” Bellatora spat.
Irri hummed louder. “The broken clock still tells the right time twice a day,” she sang softly. “But who remembers to check at those precise moments?”
“Remember,” Minerva said, her hand on the door, “the last time we stood against the Fates, I was punished. Who will it be this time?” She looked directly at Ezra. “Your vision showed what would happen if the Huntress died. Did it ever show you what would happen if she lived?”
With that parting question, she swept from the room, leaving us in silence.
The fate of the realms hung in the balance, and I had just declared war on those who wove it, in the middle of a room of gods that would stand against me.
My power flickered and faded away for a few precious seconds before returning.
I could invite Death to stand with us again, give him back the memories I’d taken when I left him in his court, but these fragile alliances would fade on that decision.
As Minerva’s footsteps faded down the hallway, I rose from my seat, golden threads of power flowing from my fingertips to seal the chamber doors. The light coalesced into an impenetrable barrier, cutting us off from the rest of the castle.
“What the fuck, Rev?” Bellatora shouted, her hand moving to the hilt of her sword.
“Insurance,” I replied coolly, returning to my place at the head of the table. “Before any of you leave this room, you have a choice to make.”
I let my power pulse visibly around me, a reminder of who and what I was. “Either I take your memories of this meeting or you bargain with me to keep silent about what was discussed here.”
Kaelor’s laughter echoed through the chamber. “You would dare use your power against us?”
“I would,” I confirmed, meeting his gaze without flinching.
The room fell silent as they contemplated their options. I looked to Paesha, whose fists were held tight together on the table. She rocked slightly, the movement barely noticeable, but there.
“What would this bargain entail?” Veurs asked, his form shifting nervously.
“A promise. Bound by power and oath. In exchange, I will offer each of you something of value.”
“And what could you possibly offer that would interest us?” Serene asked, her golden eyes narrowing as they fell down my body.
I smiled thinly. “Knowledge. Secrets I’ve collected over millennia. Locations of artifacts thought lost to time. Names of mortals whose bloodlines carry specific traits. Access to certain sections of my personal archives.”
Tuck shot me a warning glance, but I ignored it.
This was a necessary risk. The gods would kill the mortals that carried their blood so they could never rise against them.
Gods died by the Fates and their descendants alone.
It was a valuable trade. One Archer would have my ass for.
As would Paesha. But there would be nothing else of greater value.
Only I knew the beginnings of new power.
One by one, they made their choices. Vesalia demanded the location of an ancient hourglass that could freeze a moment without disturbing the flow of time.
Serene chose the name of a mortal in a different realm that could draw uncontrollable desire with just his touch.
Raeth requested access to my collection of mortal stories, tales I’d preserved from civilizations long turned to dust.
They bargained. I conceded. The weight of each promise settled on my shoulders like chains, binding me to obligations that would drain my already diminishing resources.
I was trading away secrets I’d guarded for centuries, locations I’d protected, knowledge I’d hoped never to share, but it was worth it for the greater good.
Alastor stood last, Irri swaying to an unknown tune beside him. “We require nothing from you, Keeper. We will keep your secret. But know this, I will remember, and I’ll watch.”
I nodded, accepting his terms. He had been neutral in this conflict for too long to suddenly become a threat. Only Ezra remained, his face a perfect mirror of my own, twisted with centuries of bitterness.
“And you, brother? Memory or bargain?”
“I would sooner fall to Death himself than let you use your power on me again,” he snarled, rising from his seat. “Never again.”
His eyes flicked to Paesha, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Besides, I have so many precious memories I’d hate to lose.
Like the feel of your Huntress beneath me.
The way she called my name. The taste of her skin.
” He leaned forward. “I think I’ll keep those memories especially close. ”
Paesha’s Remnants raced across the floor toward Ezra, but he merely laughed, stopping them with a casual flick of his wrist.
“Odd that you’re still so eager to protect her, brother. Even knowing she spreads her legs for kings now.” His gaze shifted to Archer. “Although I suppose that’s a matter of perspective. Sharing was never your strong suit.”
“Enough,” I growled, my power flaring dangerously.
“So sensitive. You know what your problem is, Reverius? You’ve never learned when to let go.
” He paused at the threshold, his eyes lingering first on Quill, who had finally looked up from her book, then shifting meaningfully to Archer.
“We should chat, Majesty. I have a feeling your story would be quite interesting to my Unmade.”
Archer’s face hardened, but he said nothing.
“Something to consider, perhaps, when you’re done playing house with my brother’s leftovers.”
With a final smirk, he walked through the barrier I had created as if it were nothing more than mist, a reminder that for all my power, he was still my equal.
The onslaught of pressure from using that much magic to bargain nearly stole my fucking breath, but the price was necessary. Some burdens were meant to be carried alone. I watched as a tear trekked down Paesha’s cheek and Archer swiped it away, knowing without a doubt that some weren’t.