Page 15 of Mortal Things

A chill runs through me, and immediately I think of the fox Wraiths trotting through the cemetery, their jaws wrapping all the way around their heads. Another impossibility. Wraiths hunger for living souls, but they don’t hunt them, because they shouldn’t be able to touch them.

“Have you seen them here?” I ask faintly.

“They gathered in some numbers near where Terran’s body was found,” Raven says. “As if they had come to claim him for themselves.”

My skin prickles at his words. All the dancers in the circle turn together, and we do the same. I glide around Raven, my dress fanning out around me as I go. “What does it mean that they’re gathering like this? Were they summoned?”

“Everything in the world operates in a delicate balance because the gods all have their own dominions. Our governance of the universe keeps it in order. For the Wraiths to be restless this way means they have found gaps in that balance, and are hungry for any part of the mortal world that has cracked, that they can reach.”

“And what could disturb that balance?”

Raven’s expression remains impassible, a mask of ice. “It means a god has overstepped their boundaries.”

A god, defying Raven. Suddenly, the ethereal light in this estate seems more ominous than awe-inspiring, and I feel cold, the sensation crawling across my skin as my gaze turns from my patron to the others spread throughout this space. Every god is in attendance tonight.

Could one of them be responsible for Terran’s death? For the Wraiths’ strange behavior?

I look instinctively around as we go. “Which god?”

“I have my suspicions.” He pulls me close again. “And a task for you, Regent-Elect.”

I look quickly at him. “For me?”

He gives me a cool, questioning look. “You’re displeased?”

I frown. “I’m a little skeptical that I’m the right Harbinger for the job.”

“Is that so?” The disapproval in his voice is enough to send a shiver down my neck. “Are you challenging my authority?”

I swallow my dread, telling myself to stand down. “And what exactly do you have in mind?” I decide to ask. “What if I don’t get confirmed tonight?”

If Raven has an answer for me, he doesn’t give it yet. Impatient with his vagueness, I open my mouth, about to press him again.

Only when Willow approaches us do I bite back my words.

“Raven,” she says to him. “I’ve been looking for you.” Then she leans over to murmur something in his ear that I can’t hear.

Raven nods. His hand leaves my back, and I shiver at his sudden absence. “A moment, please,” he says, and I bow my head until the gods step away from me to head toward the balconies.

I watch my patron leave for a moment, feeling lost again in the crowded atrium. His words linger in my mind, and I look instinctively around, as if I might see a Wraith loping through the shadows of the estate, eternally yearning for either life or rest, hungry in a way that it shouldn’t be. I step closer to the wall, as if to prevent some Wraith from sneaking up behind me.

“Do you always talk back to your god like that?”

I startle at the voice, then glance to my side to see Étienne leaning against the wall, his green eyes fixed on me in amusement. I hadn’t noticed him standing there. He’s in a dress shirt and suit pants, but his collar is loose, the top two buttons undone. His Artifact, the silk bracelet, shines silver on his wrist.

“You,” I mutter.

“An excellent greeting.” He gives me a mock bow. “You too.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I wasn’t defying him,” I say. “I was just … questioning.”

“Some might say that’s the same thing.”

“I don’t think you’re in a position to criticize how I work with my patron god.”

“It wasn’t criticism. I’m genuinely impressed by you.”

“You’re making fun of me.”