It was a cry of pain unlike anything I’d ever heard him make before. Followed by the sound of breaking glass and a fainter one, like water being sucked away. Jason tore himself free from the crystalline prison he’d been trapped in for twelve long days.

  He looked lost, his eyes darting across the chamber, trying to make sense of where he was. I reached for Liora and sent him back to my Domain, thanking him for the help and apologizing for the abruptness through Anansi. I needed to be alone for what came next.

  “Jason,” I whispered as I stepped close, covering his mouth with one hand while supporting his head with the other. His body reacted instantly, panic surging through him as he struggled. His eyes widened, pupils dilating as he searched desperately for meaning in the horror surrounding him. “Be calm, for what’s coming,” I whispered as he thrashed in his pod.

  Then I pushed him.

  Through space. Through folding reality bent to my will. I placed him within the Lebens’ training hall, where Ariana would be waiting with her husband.

  As he vanished from the room and my hands closed on empty air where his body had been, I allowed myself one last look at the mirrors. They didn’t reflect me, but I knew they would remember I had been there.

  “Are you hearing me?” Peter whispered into the ears I’d granted him. He had to be outside now. I could hear cars, traffic, the ordinary sounds of the world. “It’s over. For at least ten minutes. I don’t know how much time you have left, but please, get out of there.”

  I remembered hearing the verdict while I was still locked in struggle with the god.

  I pulled the detonator from my bag and pressed it. A bright red thirty appeared on its digital display, ticking down to twenty-nine, then twenty-eight. I set it gently on the floor and teleported myself out, straight into the Lebens’ hall as well.

  Jason was covering his dick with one hand while swinging the other at Dam and Ariana as they tried to calm him down. His head jerked in erratic patterns, scrambling to piece together what kind of mess he’d landed in this time, when I spoke.

  “Hey. You.”

  He froze completely and turned to face me. His neck pushed his face forward a little, like he wasn’t sure his eyes were telling him the truth. He squinted.

  “Yes. It’s me. Lexy.”

  “Is it really… you?” His shoulders loosened, just a bit. His eyes filled.

  “Yes. It’s me. I got you out of the mess you were in. I’ll explain everything as soon as I can, but I’m afraid now isn’t the time.”

  “Yeah,” he said quietly. “It has to be you.”

  That did it. I burst out laughing.

  “No kidding, right?” I said. “Those people are my friends. They’re Nick’s parents. You met him at dinner with me. Sophie’s boyfriend. They’ll help you and take care of you, but you can’t leave this house for a while, okay? I’ll get back here as soon as I can.”

  I felt it then. The connection to the painted ground and the few cards I’d left behind in the chamber snapped and died.

  “I knew there was something between you two,” he started to say.

  I heard the rest through the card Ariana was holding, but my physical body was already back in my room, sprinting out and toward the one Sophie and the others were in.

  “Alexa, dear. It’s good that I have you on the line, because I’m needed elsewhere,” I heard Joan say to Nick, who had played me beautifully throughout the entire conversation. His eyes were red and swollen. He’d spent most of the time crying and sobbing.

  As all eyes turned to me when I entered the room, I reached for the phone within my aura and teleported it straight into my hand.

  “Sure,” I said, faking a sob. “Wait. What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Please teleport to me as soon as possible and take me as close to my god as you can. I will reward you handsomely for that,” they said.

  “Oh. Okay. Just let me make myself presentable. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  “You don’t have—” they started, but I ended the call.

  “Is Peter alright?” I asked, just to pull them in, even though I already knew the answer.

  I ran toward the bathroom, leaving the door open. Sophie followed quickly, Nick staggering behind her. Zoe stayed behind, sitting in the corner, overwhelmed by the extra sensory input.

  “Zoe said he’s on his way here. So far, he’s been very safe,” Sophie replied.

  I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, pulling off my wig and setting it on the counter as the water ran. I started scrubbing the makeup from my face, watching the colors smear and dissolve.

  “Jason is physically safe at your house, Nick,” I said while wiping away the paint with makeup wipes and micellar water. I left the area around my eyes messy on purpose, making it look like I’d just been crying. “But I have to deal with the fallout now.”

  I glanced at them through the mirror.

  “When Peter gets here, go there and try to persuade him not to leave until I’m done, okay?”

  “You got it,” my own voice answered me.

  “You can drop the disguise now, perv,” I replied.

  His face, shoulders, and neck rearranged themselves into his usual, more masculine exterior, and when he spoke again it was with his own voice. “It was your idea.”

  “Nick,” I said between wipes. “You did great. All of you did.”

  I took a few more minutes to explain how it had gone while finishing cleaning myself up. Near the end, I grabbed my deep-water spray can, turned it into a source of cold, and held it over my eyes for two full minutes to constrict the blood vessels and reduce the puffiness.

  “I have to go now,” I said, then slipped into my Domain for a moment. First to rejuvenate myself, and second to strip Authority from my additional brains, restoring my own to its rightful place. I didn’t want those minds present in a situation that could, and probably would, influence my thoughts in ways I might not be able to undo.

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  But now I needed the reference back for my meeting with Joan. I had to know what they would try to push on me.

  So I asked those artificial brains to become my additional ones once more.

  Having done that, I teleported straight into Jason’s apartment—right into the middle of the trench Joan had nearly worn into the floor.

  They were pacing back and forth, hands clasped behind their back, so deep in thought that for the first time ever they didn’t notice me arrive.

  “Joan?” I asked calmly.

  They stopped. Slowly turned.

  “Finally. Don’t ever hang up on me like that again.” The words were mild; the weight behind them was not. Their nature pressed against my mind. “We didn’t need you presentable. We needed you for your party tricks.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, playing along, even as my blood boiled. “I won’t disrespect you again.”

  That seemed to satisfy them. As I stepped closer and reached for their shoulder, they let Jason’s cover fall away, reverting to their naked, intersex form without ceremony—like discarding a coat.

  “I have an anchor almost at your doorstep,” I said.

  I reached out toward the painting—a piece I had prepared yesterday, just in case. The tower in its full, impossible glory. The memorial below. And me, small but unmistakable in the frame, standing beneath it with my middle finger raised in quiet defiance.

  The world answered immediately.

  Space folded, clean and obedient, and the apartment vanished around us. In its place: cold air, open space, the muted gravity of stone and memory. The tower loomed above, exactly as painted, exactly as remembered.

  Joan inhaled sharply.

  They hadn’t questioned me for a second. Absolute certainty in their own abilities, absolute trust in me following their will.

  Good.

  I let my hand fall away and turned to face the building. Smoke was coming from its side and a group of the Unreflected was tending to that place, stacking one on top of the other, like blood cells forming the clot over a wound.

  “You wanted to be close to your god,” I said quietly. “So here we are…” I added a fade into shock at the end of my sentence, and I was pretty sure they bought it, because they spared me just a glance and began moving in quick strides toward the building, which looked oddly similar to what had happened to the twins that preceded it.

  “Should I follow you?” I asked as I ran alongside them.

  “Yes.” They hissed through their teeth, not sparing me another round of mental pressure, making sure I’d be obedient. And like every good actress, I followed the instructions of my director, quietly hoping they wouldn’t notice that it was me who’d written the script.

  As we moved between the glassy trees, it became painfully clear to me that the whole play had become way overcast for my taste. I would not lie if I told you that at least a few hundred of the Unreflected were gathered around the base of the tower and along its walls, and a few dozen naked people of various races, ethnicities, ages, and body builds stood near the entrance, gathered around one giant figure in the middle of them—their god. He towered above them, as big as a tree and equally slender. His face was unreadable, but the mouth he’d created just for the occasion kept talking to them.

  “Joan, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go in there,” I said with faked confidence, but truth be told, I was scared, chilled to the bones. I felt like I was being led to a slaughterhouse.

  “Silence now.” Another press, which I was bound to follow in my act.

  The talking among the gathered turned to whispers and murmurs as the two of us approached the gathering, attention drawn as much to me as it was to Joan.

  “You’ve come quicker than expected,” the god spoke in a perfect monotone voice. Without any order whatsoever, three large Shattered men came up behind me and Joan, forcing us to our knees with their strong arms.

  “My god’s will is my own,” Joan replied.

  “Only when necessary,” it answered, turning its head toward me. “You brought an outsider.”

  “If only one,” someone whispered in the crowd, which earned them a sharp turn of the god’s head that, through sheer Authority, enforced silence.

  “She helped me get here quickly. One of her talents,” Joan replied, unphased.

  “A contractor of yours,” it said to them, its tone making it difficult to tell whether it was a question or a statement. I remained quiet.

  “Yes.”

  “Send her away. This is not a matter she could help with.” The god voiced my exact thoughts. Maybe I could grow to like it. Who knew?

  “I believe she could be involved.” That stirred more voices among the crowd. Whispering spread.

  “We face a conundrum here, my children,” the god said, and I noticed a few other cases like me and Joan—Shattered brought to their knees and guarded by others. It turned its featureless face to me. “My haven was struck while I was absent, resulting in the killing of a child-to-be. A child I had to fight for in the Court of Justice. One I won, despite the difficulties. One I had high hopes for, though some of you advised against it. Its assigned guardian is gone—either complicit and hiding from my presence, or dead. And what remains of my precious sanctuary tells me a Shattered was involved. One of you, my children, entered that very spawning pool, now destroyed, and never came out. So tell me, my dear one,” it turned to Joan, “how is it that you think she is involved? Wasn’t it you who was the strongest opponent of accepting Jason Smith into our family?”

  Every face that could turned to Joan, but they remained unyielding under the scrutiny.

  “She is the one who broke his heart.”

  “Spare me the obvious, dear. I saw her stand against me and you. I saw you talk her into working for you. It was not she who infiltrated my sanctuary. How could it be? She brought you so quickly, after all.”

  “I can prove it. Let me force the truth out of her.”

  “Do it quickly,” the god said, and Joan responded by projecting their Domain in a sphere all around us. Soon after, I dropped to the ground under the sheer force of gravity that worked on me in this place. Then a probe inside my mind moved quickly, cranking up the volume of my obedience. I felt like I could do anything for them. Everything that could have been asked of me, I would do. Fortunately for me, it wasn’t the mushy brain connected to the talking part right now.

  “Tell me, Alexa,” they were allowed to walk toward me and used this reprieve to position themselves right in front of me, obscuring my vision with their feet. “What were you doing in the last few hours?”

  “I got really sad about Jason being here because of me, being changed into something he’s not, so I called you to cry my eyes out and talk, because you were the only one that really understood any of this…”

  “Right…” I heard someone whisper in a sarcastic tone.

  “And so we talked, and you were really sweet. Like never before. You told me not to worry, remember? That Jason would reach me sooner rather than later.” I finished, planting yet another bomb among them—this one right onto my dear employer.

  “Is that true?” the god asked.

  “That—” they started easing the pressure put onto me. I got up onto my knees and looked at them squirm in front of their god, “—might be true, but honestly I expected her to be playing me somehow. She is a crafty one.”

  “You expected her to manipulate you?” some big, Asian-looking Shattered asked. “That’s hardly believable, warlock.”

  “Stop this,” the Solitary Twin said unexpectedly.

  “Of course, my lord. What I was trying to say is that Joan is usually involved in some kind of ploy, and now this human is talking about them knowing that Mr. Jason Smith will be with her sooner rather than later? And your divinity said it themselves that they were the one so strongly opposed to getting him here. Isn’t that the truth?”

  The god’s attention shifted toward Joan again. My mind kept working, going through one important piece of the information I was getting from this—their god, no matter how powerful and full of Authority, wasn’t omniscient and omnipresent, at least not outside its tower. What would all of this be for, if it was?

  “Were you, my dear, involved in any of this?” the Solitary Twin asked, and I saw Joan jerk in their movements. It was a sign I had noticed before—a quick stop to the tick. Barely noticeable, but certainly there.

  “Of course I wasn’t,” they replied, directing their eyes to the floor. They didn’t like whatever was happening here.

  “Children, you’ve heard them yourselves. Let that be enough proof.” That’s it? One question and one answer to puff away all the smokescreens? That certainly made the bomb I thought I’d planted a big, fat misfire.

  “The culprit behind all of this is still at large. She could be from one of the Old World spawning pools, far removed from my watchful gaze and thus lost in my teachings. It isn’t unheard of, despite being very unfortunate. The family of Mr. Smith could be involved in this, but so could anyone, as my absence from the haven wasn’t a secret. The world knew, and they struck a blow. Let this be a lesson to you all that there are still many who oppose us, and we must be unified in our pursuit.”

  The god kept rambling when one of the Unreflected reached it and jumped right into its body, resulting in a ripple that spread like a wave over the god’s form, just to coalesce once again into the shape it had before—only slightly larger.

  “The search has just ended. It is safe inside, and so we will continue the meeting within my realm,” it added, clarifying to me why all of this happened right at the threshold. Yet I still couldn’t quite grasp how strong this god really was, if it needed to remain outside. Was there something more powerful out there to get it?

  “If we may, our god, we’d like to deal with the human before we join you,” Joan asked.

  “Do it quickly and gently,” the god responded, setting off every alarm in my head.