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His neck slowly bent forward, overcoming the weight of His head in an unnatural roll. Apollius grinned at her, golden eyes bright, a gleam of sweat across His brow. “He put up quite a fight that time.”

Alie backed away, wiping the hands that had touched Him on her bodice.

Apollius shook out His limbs as if Bastian were an irritating insect to banish. “That was a bold move, Alienor. I didn’t think you had it in you.” He chuckled. “You’ll do an excellent job keeping Jax in line, if you stop pushing Me.”

He should be raging at her. She would be less afraid if He was.

Completely unruffled, Apollius leaned forward in His seat, elbows braced on His knees, and gave her a sliver of a smile.

It looked so much like one of Bastian’s expressions, the one he had right before he eviscerated someone with his words.

Seeing how they melted into each other made dread chew at the bottom of her spine.

“Do you think,” He said softly, “that you are really that cunning, Alie?”

Alie schooled her face to impassivity and said nothing, nothing, though her hands fisted in her skirt hard enough that she felt threads breaking beneath her fingernails.

“I have kept you alive primarily as a mercy,” Apollius said, as cool and collected as if they were discussing the weather.

“There are easier ways than murder to get what I need from you, and I would much prefer them. I am not a brute, despite what My wife’s mortal costume would have you believe.

” He sneered. “I can be infinitely reasonable. The fact is that you are more useful to Me alive than dead. Jax likes you, and I grow weary of jumping through his hoops. Having something to distract him makes My life much easier.”

Her mind raced as more silken threads broke beneath her panicked grip. He knew. Of course He knew, just like Lilia said. But if He did, if there was a way to force her to give up Lereal’s power, why wasn’t He doing it? What did He gain from allowing her to keep it?

“All of this has more to do with free will than you think,” Apollius said.

He sat back, picked up His wine. “I could kill you to take what is rightfully Mine. But as I said, you are an asset. An Arceneaux, and we all know I’m particularly fond of those.

” A dainty sip, swirling His cup. “It makes much more sense for all of us if you decide to give Lereal’s magic up on your own.

I can wait. They were always the weakest of Us. ”

In the back of Alie’s mind, a breeze, cold and biting, not gentle. The harbinger of a storm to come.

“And if I won’t give it back?” she said quietly.

She’d grown up in proximity to power. Maybe that was why it had never occurred to her as something to want. But now that she had it, the idea of giving it up was hard to swallow.

He cocked His head, smile widening. “You will, Alienor. Hasn’t watching your brother suffer been enough to convince you?

Do you really want to surrender to a god that never should have existed?

They may have been the weakest of Us, but They are still divine.

Whatever kindness They show you now is temporary.

The desire to live is stronger than any compassion. ” He snorted. “Lore is proof of that.”

She stayed silent. So did Lereal.

“Now.” Apollius finished His wine and set the goblet back on the table. “What were you and my host speaking of? I don’t want to kill you, but I’m perfectly willing to alter my plans if necessary. I will get what I need regardless.”

It was a relief to have to lie. Proof that Apollius couldn’t look inside Bastian’s mind and see what he did when he was in control.

It was also a relief that the bindings of honesty that let Gabe, Bastian, and Lore know when one was lying to the others did not extend to her.

“Lore,” she said after a moment, putting a slump in her shoulders, a defeated undertone in her voice. “We were trying to find a way to rescue Lore.”

“Her again.” Apollius sighed. “I do wish Bastian would give her up. I’d be surprised if she even exists anymore. Now that she’s close to the Fount, Nyxara has probably taken over.”

Probably. So He didn’t know. He wasn’t omniscient. He was still just a man wielding stolen divinity.

There was something strange in the way He said it, though. Like He didn’t quite want it to be true.

“Nyxara didn’t want to take over,” Alie said, warming to her role, wanting to keep Him on this subject. “She isn’t like You.”

“They are all like Me,” He scoffed. “They’re just better at hiding it. None of Them would allow this second chance at life to pass Them by. None of Them would let you go willingly.”

Alie waited for a soft gust across the back of her thoughts, a reassurance. None came.

“That’s the problem with all of you, really,” Apollius continued.

“You keep believing that I am the only threat. That I am uniquely evil, among all the gods. Among all of you .” He shook His head.

“But all of Them drank from the Fount. All of Them relished Their power. Sure, They gave it up eventually, but haven’t you ever made a decision you regretted?

” He pulled over the wine bottle and filled His glass again, all the way to the crystal rim.

“And every single one of you mortal shells have done what you must for a measure of magic. To feel like you can turn back a tide.” He stared into His wine, contemplative.

“I’m not the worst of Us. I’m simply the most honest.”

The door opened, Jax hurrying in, aristocratic features twisted in irritation.

“I don’t see why Alexis didn’t turn him away,” he said, seating himself once again.

“Lord Bartolmy is convinced that You will bring down divine retribution if everyone in the court doesn’t stop wearing dyed clothing.

Something about a Tract interpretation.”

“I don’t give a shit about dyed clothing,” Apollius said, grinning widely. “Honestly, the way you all have twisted around the Tracts is almost impressive.”

Alie picked at her dessert, feeling Jax’s gaze burn into her, willing her to look up.

She didn’t.