Chapter Eighteen
Fenrir asked us not to call the God Squad. He didn't want to scare the trickster into running or force them into fighting us. We agreed. The last thing we wanted was a battle with Ty in the middle. So, we held off on calling the entire Squad, texting only Torrent.
While we waited outside the tracing room for them to arrive, we contemplated using the jewel.
“We don't have a location.” Trevor held the jewel in his palm. With its odd shape, it fit well, with the rounded part at the bottom and the tail coming up over his thumb. “How can I direct a trace?”
With perfect timing, Torrent came out of the tracing room. “We'll travel within a vein of Internet. I can navigate the vein with you guiding me.”
Trevor nodded. “Perfect.”
“Thank you for coming again, Torr.” I hugged him.
“Well, let's go!” Fenrir's voice came through the tracing room doorway before he did. “Torrent, thank you for your help.” He slapped a beefy hand on Torr's shoulder. “You're a loyal friend.”
“Anytime, sir,” Torrent said.
“The pups are taken care of?” Fenrir looked toward the open main doors of the palace.
“Yeah, Sam is looking after them,” I said.
Fenrir leaned down to kiss my cheek. “She's a good girl, that Samantha. Kids give you trouble no matter how big they get.”
I chuckled. “I'm not looking forward to chasing them around the realms.”
“I hope you won't have to. But if you do, I'll be there.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I looked at Trevor. “You ready?”
Trevor handed the jewel to Torrent. “It would be silly for me to direct you when you could simply follow the jewel yourself.”
Torr took the jewel, settling it in his hand as Trevor had done. Torrent didn't need the tracing wall; he could enter the Inter Realm anywhere. “Form a line. I'll be creating a tube through the Aether. Try not to look into the Aether. Concentrate on the person in front of you.”
“All right.” Fenrir stood behind Trevor, and I stood behind Fenrir.
Our line stretched out behind me, with Odin, Re, Viper, Kirill, and Azrael joining us. It would have been safer to take more god power with us, but I was hoping the trickster wouldn't want to hurt Ty's family. My even bigger hope was that the trickster, though crazy, was still trying to help us.
Torrent formed a bubble of Internet around us.
The world became brighter, and a thick line of glowing light appeared, surging out of the tracing room to split into several lines and traverse the palace.
It was the vein of Internet that Torrent had attached to my territory.
Torrent pushed our bubble into the line, merging the two before he walked down the smaller line, using it as a guide into the Aether.
We followed Torr past the tracing wall, now incorporeal. And then we entered the Aether.
The Aether isn't just a buffer between realms. It's a realm of magic.
Witches project their spells into the Aether, and the realm takes that energy and manifests it.
The evidence of this bobbed around us—glowing blobs and symbols of the spells that were being cast. But that wasn't all the Aether held.
Every time a god traced, the Aether took a snippet of the god’s memory as payment.
Those memories fed the Aether. As fuel, they didn't last forever, but new ones replaced the consumed memories constantly.
I risked a look into the glittering dark, and watched a holographic memory float by, turning lazily as if in a breeze.
Many more hovered behind it—Gods doing all manner of things in them.
I focused back on Fenrir quickly. Staring into the Aether too long would make you go mad.
“Holy cannolis,” I whispered.
“What's that, little frami?” Fenrir looked over his shoulder at me.
“The Aether. It holds memories. If someone searched these memories, they could learn a lot about the gods who left them behind.”
“And they'd go mad,” Fenrir huffed. Then his expression fell into shock. “And they'd go mad! Damn it all! That's how they know so much.”
“What are you talking about?” Trevor asked.
“The trickster.” I motioned at the Aether. “I think they've been looking into the Aether. It would explain how they knew the locations of hidden god items. I mean, visions of the future can only show you so much.”
“I don't think so, V,” Torrent called back to me. “I'm the only god I know of who can walk the Aether.”
“Iktomi did it before you,” I reminded him. “And if he did, why not another god?”
Torrent frowned and pushed us forward. The jewel was glowing brightly, shining green light through the darkness. Torr held it up and leaned forward as if he were being dragged.
“Maybe the trickster took more than Katila's power,” Odin said. “He could have used the condenser to steal magic from several gods.”
“Maybe,” I murmured.
“It's leading me out of the Aether,” Torrent stopped walking and lifted his free hand to feel the air before him. “There's no ward. This feels . . . odd.” He handed Trevor the jewel. “I'll keep the Internet up until I know what we're facing.”
“Go on,” Fenrir said. “We're ready.”
Torrent walked us out of the Aether and into a vast meadow. He searched the area, but there were no gods to be seen, only souls.
“You can drop the vein, Torr,” I said.
Torrent released the Internet, and it withdrew into the Aether, leaving us visible to those around us. But the souls didn't seem to care. They barely looked at us.
“This is where they took the lost souls.” Odin ventured closer to a soul sitting in the grass. He crouched to peer at the man. “Hello, are you well?”
The man spoke in Chinese, but I understood him—something that only happened in afterlife territories. He said, “I am fine. But do you know me?”
“No, I'm sorry. I don't,” Odin said.
“I don't either.” The man shifted his gaze to the distance.
Odin stood up, looking over the other souls—some wandering aimlessly and others sitting in the grass like the man. “So, they arrive broken no matter where they go.”
“What has that asshole done?” Fenrir growled, his head swinging to take in the field.
Suddenly, the landscape zipped by us while we stood still. We held our arms out, clinging to each other even though we weren't moving. The territory moved around us. Only a few seconds passed before everything went still.
I swayed and then steadied myself to peer up the side of a mountain.
The air was crisp, and the sun was bright overhead.
At the base of the mountain stood a massive log cabin, reminding me of the one I built for Trevor in Pride Territory.
It soared up two stories, each level at least twenty feet high.
“What the fuck just happened?” Fenrir shouted.
“Sorry, that was me.” Modja—or rather, the trickster in their Modja body—materialized before us, with Ty at their side.
They were as beautiful as the last time I'd seen them, with deeply bronzed skin, a voluptuous body, long black hair that fell in tight curls to their waist, and a pair of soft brown eyes with thick lashes.
“Ty!” Fenrir ran forward and embraced his son. “My boy. We've been so worried about you.” He stepped back, but kept a hand on Ty's shoulder.
Ty put a hand over his father's. “I'm fine, Dad. You shouldn't have come.”
Ty looked slightly better than he had this past year—his heartbreak gone, but worry had replaced it. New lines etched the skin between his eyebrows and around his blue eyes.
“Ty, they're stealing souls.” Trevor stepped up beside Fenrir. “Do you really want to be a part of this?”
“I am not stealing souls, and you don't have to use those pronouns with me. When I look like a woman, I am a woman.” The trickster rolled their eyes—or her eyes, rather. “And I'll be a woman as long as Ty stays. So, you don't have to worry about—”
“I don't give a fuck about your fucking pronouns,” Fenrir snarled. “You broke my boy's heart and then manipulated him into helping you wreak havoc. You're a snake. What are snake pronouns? That's what I'll use for you.”
I snorted a laugh.
Viper, however, said, “Uh, I take offense to that.”
Ty removed Fenrir's hand from his shoulder. “Father, she hasn’t manipulated me. I think Agwusi is doing the right thing. She's trying to help humans. When they die, they'll go where they need to be without gods interfering.”
Damn it. There it was. Ty had just confirmed that the trickster was behind everything. I'd been wrong. The Internet wasn't sentient. It wasn't trying to take over. It was just a crazy goddess going even crazier.
“Yeah, that's not working out so well.” Azrael stepped up beside Trevor and glared at the trickster—Agwusi.
“I appreciate your help in the past. I owe you a debt of gratitude for making the tool that brought me back.
So, considering that, I will not hurt you.
I'm just asking you to stop what you're doing.
The souls are confused. Broken. They've lost pieces of themselves. All you have to do is look at those whom you’ve drawn here to know I'm right. This isn't helping them.”
“First, you're welcome, Faerie God.” Agwusi inclined her head.
“Second, I know about the souls, and I take full responsibility for the machine malfunctioning.
I needed more pieces to correct the issues.
But I assure you, it's running properly now.
Soon, you'll appreciate what I'm doing. Life will be easier for everyone.
You, especially, should understand what I'm trying to do. You gave up your duties as the Angel of Death. It was too heavy a burden. And yet, souls get where they need to go without you.”
“What are you saying?” Odin hung back, sticking by my side.
“Things will be as they were, but with no need for your interference. The machine will handle everything. I just need some time to tweak the artificial divinity.”
“Artificial divinity?” I asked. “Like artificial intelligence but for gods?”