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the surface and smoke wafted from burning lips.

It was disgusting. The thought that anyone could hunt and dismember innocent people like that… For money; for sport… She ground her teeth at the image of two small children clutching each other behind a tree. Three men came up behind and—

“Avia!”

She opened her eyes as both voices of Gemini shouted her name. Castor was shaking her shoulders. She stepped away from him and squatted down against the stone wall. After several labored breaths, she rose back to her feet and met his gaze. She couldn’t read him, but he looked somewhere between concerned and confused. She narrowed her eyes to a glare and he quickly went back to examining the flyer.

“I… Didn’t expect you to be that concerned,” he said after a moment.

She opened her mouth to protest, then bit her lip. He was right. The fae had no value to her, and she should be focused on tracking down the Arkhen. But still… What those hunters did was the exact reason she had to destroy the world. Humans were worthless and evil; an infestation to be wiped out.

“Don’t tell me you’re not pissed,” she said finally. Crossing the alley, she peered over his shoulder at the flyer.

Castor raised his head to look at her. “It was an unfortunate event.”

“But not uncommon,” Paris spoke quietly. “We’ve seen the slave trade of humans to other humans, and the ever-widening pool of suffering. Soldiers in the East have even gutted expecting mothers for ‘fun.’ How unbelievable is it that humans would hunt mirage and sell the corpses to the highest bidder? We admit, there’s a bit of…”

“Melancholy?” Castor offered.

“Yes,” Paris chimed. “La mélancolie, given we met the twins on a number of occasions before they left the Vanir. But that was years ago. When you live as long as us, the emotion of it all just doesn’t take hold.”

Avia swallowed. There was something twisting and curling up inside her chest. They were right; her emotions blinded her judgment. But it was through rage that judgment had to be made. She may not have lived as long as they had, but she was the Sin of Wrath and just as powerful.

Punching a fiery fist into her left hand, her eyes blazed over in determination. “We’re going.”

“Without question,” Castor said. “They’re obviously not genuine sempiternus. However, to perform a zombification rite on two former gods would require the strength and expertise of an angel, demon, or an extremely powerful necromancer. But where one would even get the spells for such—? Wait.”

“The Kirkos-Arkhen!” Avia exclaimed.

“We have a couple hours until the show starts,” Paris said, transforming back into her own body. “Let’s come up with a plan.”

Chapter 20

Perhaps it was luck. Perhaps, a preternatural command from the Seph Ọkan himself. Whatever it was, several steps placed Val back in the familiar hall of medieval tapestries, solid floor, and narrow windows. Excitement bubbled as she rushed to the nearest sill to bask in golden rays. She was finally—

The impending joy dowsed itself to soppy puddle. She was still trapped.

She leaned against the wall and sunk down. “Nissra,” she swore. Her eyes opened in surprise. She had only been in Le Ciel a number of hours and was already swearing in the native tongue. Ynsri. She hadn’t had a name for it before, but here it was, plain as daylight. Though, by the shadows flitting from the windows, daylight was nearly gone. A hand absently went to the Mark on her chest. She tracked the sharp lines and curved runes, feeling where magic met flesh in cosmic preordination. Maybe she wasn’t so hopeless.

Closing her eyes, she focused on the Mark, calling upon the torrent of images from when she first awoke. It took a moment, but frames started to trickle into focus. She could see the castle, protruding like horns from its mountain perch. The city lay below. Another breath revealed the halls. The twisting, changing, living things that seemed to embody the primordial ancestors of every culture. Then the rooms. Within the minute, a working map lay sprawled behind her eyes—eyes now alive with violet pulse.

Val pushed herself up and started down the hall. Nothing would hold her back.

Nothing was a strong term. The servants never bothered her with more than simple greetings. There were no guards either, ironically enough, but she supposed there was no need in an impenetrable magic realm. Even still, the venomous strides of the breakout plan were grinding to a halt. She could conjure the image of a room and travel there, but that meant little in the larger scheme of things. From private chambers, to servant quarters, to the armory, kitchen, dining room, common room, lavatories, everything was exactly what it seemed— yet another room in an impossibly large building.

Thankfully, no one of stature had approached her. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she ran into one of the archangels. They had to live in the castle, didn’t they? She considered dredging more information from the Mark, but thought against it. The info stream had come easily last time, but had left her mildly depleted. She had no idea what was coming ahead and steeled herself for confrontation.

Val blinked at a sudden change in lighting. The halls stole her few seconds of distraction and spat her through a large archway.

The Library?

The largest space by far, rows upon rows of shelves lined the golden floor. Sunbeams poured from the transparent skylight to blanket the wooden frames in a radiant glow. She looked to the closest shelf and craned her neck. Their height should have been impossible, given the smaller wing she was in. Yet, spiral glass staircases stretched to uncountable floors to reach the tops.

Val wandered between the hundreds, if not thousands, of shelves

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