*     *     *

Silence pervaded the mansion except for the casual rumbles of the pumas. Regin had already nicknamed them dumas.

The rest of Nїx’s closest allies were nursing themselves. Her proximity to the Vertas leadership had left many of them feeling the strain. Half the females were now sipping tea and using spells to relax their minds after feeling a brush with death.

Mariketa was the first to break the stillness. “Byron? What was that?”

“That.” He worked his jaw a couple times. “Was the first hit of her ascension.”

“I… felt it.” Sabine shivered.

He glanced at the red-haired dominatrix. “I know you did.”

From what he’d heard of late, the Queen of Illusions was one of those who knew intimately how it felt to die. Many different times, and many different ways.

A better way of putting it... she'd been chased and murdered by Loreans and humans from the time she was a little girl of less than 12, all through her adulthood.

She'd felt the impending brush with death.

Nїx’s ascension had caused multiple repercussions across the planet. A Richter-scale 7.3 earthquake had struck between Los Angeles and San Francisco, and several powerful aftershocks had split open several gas and water mains.

Freak thunderstorms had shattered across the Midwest and the East Coast.

Three tornadoes classed as Fujita level 4 strength had touched down in Oklahoma, leveling three outlying small towns. The tornadoes had been on track for the suburbs of Lawton. Then they'd dissipated.

Thousands were now homeless.

New Orleans had experienced an oceanic surge that almost collapsed the levees. Two tropical storms had blown into the Caribbean, capsizing three dozen sailing vessels.

The mortal meteorologists were trying to make sense of what happened.

Reports of heart attacks and strokes had spiked nationwide. He closed his eyes.

The worst part of being a reaper, he could instantly know how many were fatal. The number was currently seven hundred and fifty-three, and counting. Across the Caribbean, Mexico, the U.S. and Canada combined.

Then there were the deaths from the traffic accidents and the toppled buildings on the West Coast.

It was not a standard ascension at all.

He’d been lucky that she had decided to wear the cloak so he could trace to her. Nїx had been lucky, too, in her own way. On the grand deity scale, these freak incidents were considered minor.

But the nearby Lorean population had felt something happening. He slowly breathed in the mixture of teas and vitamin waters the other females were drinking with their regimen. Even the Valkyries were sipping water.

He went over what he knew.

If a deity ascended swiftly, without proper preparation, they could end up killing or maddening themselves.

When that happened, gods and goddesses – regardless of their natures – would use the nearest souls available to steady themselves instinctively. Mortals’ souls were easily caught in the crossfire.

Even immortal souls weren't tethered strongly enough to their physical shells to withstand the power vacuum.

It was the greatest fear of almost any life-giving god or goddess. And also partly the reason why they never ascended anywhere near the mortal plane.

Darker and evil deities? They rarely gave a crap about it.

“She won’t know about all this, will she?” Melanthe was nervous, sipping on a sweet wine. “Nїx didn’t intend for this to happen.”

“This is minor compared to some of the records I have in Limina Mortis,” Byron glanced over at them. “Or does Mount Vesuvius not get passed around among you immortals? How about Atlantis?”

“Wait, I thought Atlantis was their own doing,” Sabine argued.

“You think so?” He sighed. “Only partially. The other larger half was the ascension of four different deities at the same time. A rare occurrence, that.”

“Byron?”

Nїx’s voice was subdued. His eyes locked on the Valkyrie demigoddess. He squeezed her hand gently. Painting a small smile on his face, he leaned over and gazed at her eyes.

“Hey there, demigoddess. How’s the brain feeling?”

Her face was pinched, anguished. He didn’t need to be psychic to know what was on her mind. Should he tell the truth?

“How many?” Her whisper made him choke. “How many died?”

She knows. He clamped down on that and made his tone firm. “Not your fault.”

“Tell me.” She was begging him. A demigoddess without equal was beseeching him, a nobody reaper, for the truth. “Please.”

She would hate me for lying.

He inhaled slowly, closing his eyes halfway, sensing. Then let his voice remain matter-of-fact. Detached. “One thousand and twenty-nine.”

Phenїx squeezed her eyes shut. The sight of her shivering in fear and regret was something he absolutely abhorred to the core of his being. He leaned closer and gave her hand another gentle squeeze.

“Most all were elderly, golden years. Not your fault, demigoddess.”

Nїx was shaking her head against him. “I didn’t listen again.” She put a fist to her mouth.

“Many were already inside of a month of passing over. That’s not a major violation. And it didn’t happen because of you alone.”

The recent power influx had her struggling to come back to a state of normalcy. Worse, she was starting back down regression, blaming herself for the fallout. Byron didn’t need to be a soothsayer to see that. If she kept this up, she’d be even worse off, worrying over who she might be putting in jeopardy.

The trouble was, she'd need to be worrying about her self.

Many deities could come out twisted. Wrong, in a way they hadn’t meant to be.

More than once, a reaper had been called to end a maddened god before their appointed time due to a loss of control.

Byron decided now was the time he made the point firm. He wrapped one arm around the Valkyrie's shoulders and squeezed.

“Phenїx, something spiked your ascension way past the breaking point.”

The tension that left her frame was a welcome relief. Her gaze turned woeful, cautious. “Something?”

“I can’t explain precisely what. But it felt like an influx of power and gifts from a dozen pantheon sources.”

Phenїx gave a brittle laugh. “My request for pantheon resources to unite the factions against the Møriør…”

He stilled. “You mentioned that in chambers?”

When she nodded, his lips thinned. The bitches had taken her own words and turned them on her. He knew with certainty of at least one source.

Loviatar. Distant cousin of Hela, Hekate, and Häxa. But unlike Häxa, Loviatar had retained her goddesshood and never gave Hela or Hekate the opportunity to confront her without her immediate friends and loyal guards in tow.

Since much of her power came through mystickal potions and medicines – most of the darker variety – she was often excluded from reprisals.

“Reaper… have they summoned you?”

Nïx’s question snapped him back. “No,” he said. “My guess is there’ll be some calls, first. Their initial summons was haphazard, they figured they could play me. This time, they’ll have to go through more official channels.”

She gazed at him. “Are you going to answer when they do?”
“Hell, no.”

Phenїx stared at him a long moment. “Why not?”

He gave her another blank stare. Did she really think so little of him?

“I’m supposed to reap you after witnessing them spike your punchbowl with a power hit? They bend the rules their way, I’ll bend them my own way.”
Sabine interjected, “Can’t they condemn you for that?”

Byron inhaled slowly through his nose for control. What they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them.

*   *   *   *   *

Phenїx was asleep still. The cats had visited on a couple occasions. Then he'd been flattened by a force on his back. He’d strained, twisting to see the spectres of glowing eyes on him.

Oh, this was just swell.

“Let go.” He strained upwards. “Now.”

“You answer to us, reaper.”

“Like hells I do. You answer me. Why are you trying to bind me?”

“You have ignored a lawful summons, reaper.”

“Lawful, my ass, goddess,” he'd growled. “There were only five voices in that summons. Minimum for a deathbrush to be considered lawful is twelve.”

That little-known truth left them silent for a moment. Yeah, he had their number. Only five goddesses had sought to sic him on Phenїx. He began following their energy. One, a willowy-voiced female, spoke up, “We have not been able to locate the one in ascension.”

Byron strained a bit, glancing at that voice. “The one in ascension? Don’t you mean Phenїx Ever-Knowing?”

A second, more musical voice interjected. “Are you with her? Where is she?”

The tone of that voice told him something. He felt his stomach turn over slowly. “What’s it matter where she is? You looking to backstab her, bitch?”

Something struck his face hard enough to leave a claw mark. “Insolent male!”

Rage erupted in his heart.

“Go fuck yourself! When this is finished, I’ll be making some calls.”

He eyeballed each pair of eyes, delighting in seeing a flicker of fear hidden behind their arrogance. Yes, they were mighty. But they were putting themselves in a huge crosshairs right now. His.

“And you are going to reap the fucking whirlwind,” he growled menace.

For a scant few seconds he tasted rust on his tongue. Goddesses and gods themselves feared his kind. They knew he’d keep his word without even making a vow to the Lore.

A new voice spoke. “We will have the support of others. Soon.”

Whoever this one was, she was damned strong. Halfway sensual enough to make even his arousal stir. Who in the heavens had that kind of pull?!

“Consider yourself warned,” this new one continued. “If you do not do as you are ordered, you will suffer the real Hell.”

The brand was hot on his spine, scalding. They were already marking him for disobedience. The reaper in him howled fury and wrath incarnate.

This was against the codexes! They were violating the laws before the appointed time.

“So help me God,” he’d gritted. “When I get a hold on your vile little throats, you’ll know regret.”

The sensual female had laughed. “Not if we send you to Hell first, reaper.” She was purring. “Our predecessors did it before. We will finish what they started.”

“So will I,” he had vowed. Then he’d lashed out with a mild curse blow that bitch-slapped the lot of them, laughing hoarsely.

They’d screeched with noise worse than any Ancient Scourge could produce. Then they disappeared. Leaving him with the ache in his bones.

He’d risen to his knees. Prayed. “Jesus, give me strength against the wicked and deceitful. Thy will be done. But please help me save this Valkyrie.”

*   *   *   *   *

He blinked. “They’d need to off me before the matter was brought up in chambers. I don’t need to make nice with their politics. I’m an enforcer.”

How much longer before the bitches and bastards were able to scry where Phenїx had been? His kind were made to remain invisible from all forms of oracles when their auras were active and their cloaks were on.

But Phenїx was a fellow soothsayer, and even with his aura, he knew she would leave a trail. It would be dulled, but enough noses after it…

“Okay, so what do we do now?” Lucia inquired. “Did the trackers get a whiff of that, do you think?”

“I know they did. Because I did. And I was fifty realms away. A goddess in ascension isn’t exactly a smalltime gig.”

Even those in the Elserealms were probably just as aware as the rest of the Lore. Which meant that Orion would be aware. Perhaps even Wóden and Freya were aware that their daughter was about to become one of them.

None of which mattered if she didn’t survive the coming onslaught.

“So, are we going to be receiving visitors?” Rydstrom asked.

“Odds are that they already dispatched a few dozen tracking parties into the region. Most will likely be allies in Pravus.” He eyeballed Rydstrom. “How secure is the Well of Souls?”

“Not enough,” Rydstrom grunted and looked over at his brother. Cadeon traced away in a heartbeat.

“Good instinct. But I don’t think they’ll really try for Rothkalina. They’ll want a piece of Nїx foremost. Still…”

Rydstrom nodded firmly. “We’ll make preparations.”

“Aside from that, those trackers need dealing. The Lykae might do with some back-up.”

“We can handle it,” Emmaline answered firmly.

“Queen, I know your king has pride, but now is not the time. The Lykae need to accept help when it’s offered.”

Emmaline sighed. “I know, but if I didn’t protest he’d grumble.”

Ah. Byron nodded. “Gotcha. Still, they should know we're stronger as an open alliance.”

Phenїx looked around, “Excuse me, but don’t I get a say in all this?!”

“The coven leaders answered already. They’ll be here in a couple days,” Annika mentioned.

She nodded. “Good.” Then her gaze landed on Byron, “There’s more you’re not telling us, Byron.”

He worked his jaw slightly. Did she always have to read him that well? This time, he wasn’t answering. He straightened. “I need to add a few more layers of protection. Can you get the Wiccae to assist?”

The suspicion in her features told the story. She wanted to know what it was he was holding off on. Not that he’d admit it.

“Why more protection?” Regin asked.

Saved by Regin's curiosity. Who would’ve guessed her youthful attitude is a lifesaver.

“Throw off the trackers some more, and also help Phenїx be able to stay here awhile longer if she wishes.”

By the end of the day, he’d used up enough of his blood, he felt a little light-headed. The witches helped, but he had to make some purchases from them in the process.

What precisely was he going to do with a spell that would help him talk to lagomorphs? God only knew. Then again, the girl had been happy to receive a diamond, so he’d done it anyway. Who knew, maybe bunnies had interesting conversations.

He paused near a den to listen. Instead all he heard was, “Nom-nom-nom-nom-nom, yummy grass, nom-nom, mate, mate?”

Byron shook his head.

Go figure, bunnies’ conversations were pretty simple, after all. Scientifically proven.

After Nїx recovered, they made certain everyone was aware of the situation. Then, he brought them back to the jungle realm. He’d finally figured out whose it was.

Thankfully, Maria Lionza wasn’t known for visiting her realm too often. Hopefully she wouldn’t miss two of her kitties.

A couple hours later, Nїx turned in for the evening. He’d bought a mosquito net to keep the gnats off of her. The thought of making a real camp had crossed his mind, but with how vicious that storm had been, he didn't want to leave much of a trail of loose items lying around for others to find.

He heard a mumble, and turned to look at his escort.

Nїx had drifted off into a restless sleep. She was tossing, turning. But when he came close to her, he found her movements settling. His presence calmed her?

In a few moments, her breaths had slowed, deepened, then she shifted, flouncing around as if to get more comfortable. An idea occurred to him. He lowered his aura. Partially.

Within a minute, he saw changes coming out of her skin. Pale lines of blue, platinum and gold formed over her features, flickering slightly, painting her visage in a way he’d only ever read about.

Thin lines that formed almost-angelic tattoos. Not runes, but rather highlights between her most desirable features.

Two such platinum-blue lines swept up from between the V in her breasts, conjoined at her heart. They swept over her neck’s pale column, and then tucked behind her jaw to her ears. Another line curled up her spine, and apparently split the crown of her lustrous head. It ended at the median the Hindus agreed was the third eye of the soul.

From there, two silver-blue lines formed over her eyes, then splintered gold across her cheeks. Like tender tree branches in winter.

A gentle golden halo crown began appearing.

Byron sipped air. She was absorbing her goddesshead. This was what she would look like when she chose to tap into her power font as a full-fledged goddess.

The effect was beyond striking. It was enough to make him want to weep at how pristine she appeared.

Thank God, she has no idea of this. If she only knew how blessed gorgeous she’ll appear…

Instinctively, he recognized his own ability. Every darkened power spike he sensed, he averted into himself. He called over his scythe and held onto it.

After an hour, the blade had turned white-hot, enough that heavy sweat had broken out over his body. Slowly, he raised his aura fully.

He waited a few minutes to cool the blade before stowing away Scalpere in the sand on the beach outside.

The air was cooler now. The storm was past. Nїx remained peaceful, content the entire time.

Safe.

The tiny fissures in his bones from the dark power spikes healed once he’d eaten a pound of fish. He laid down beside her a long moment, thinking it over.

Whatever was happening, it was attracting more attention than even he’d thought possible. That didn’t bode well for her. He closed his eyes.

Do what you need to, Dekker.

*    *    *    *    *