“Is it?” Aidas laughed, ears twitching. “Who wrote the history?”
“The Asteri,” Tharion said darkly.
Aidas turned approving eyes on him. “You’ve heard the truth in some form, I take it.”
“I know that the official history of this world is not necessarily to be believed.”
Aidas leapt off the counter, trotting to the coffee table again. “The Asteri fed their lies to your ancestors. Made the scholars and philosophers write down their version of events under penalty of death. Erased Theia from the record. That library your former employer possesses,” he said, turning to Bryce, “is what remains of the truth. Of the world before the Asteri, and the few brave souls who tried to voice that truth afterward. You knew that, Bryce Quinlan, and protected the books for years—yet you have done nothing with that knowledge.”
“What the fuck?” Ithan asked Bryce.
Aidas only asked, “What was this world before the Asteri?”
Tharion said, “Ancient humans and their gods dwelled here. I’ve heard the ruins of their civilization are deep beneath the sea.”
Aidas inclined his head. “And where did the Asteri come from? Where did the Fae, or the shifters, or the angels come from?”
Bryce cut in, “Enough with the questions. Why not just tell us? What does this have to do with my … gifts?” She seemed to choke on the word.
“The war approaches its crescendo. And your power isn’t ready.”
Bryce flicked the length of her ponytail over a shoulder. “How fucking cliché. Whatever my other powers are, I want nothing to do with them. Not if they somehow link me to you—the Asteri will consider that a serious threat. Rightly so.”
“People died so you could have this power. People have been dying in this battle for fifteen thousand years so we could reach this point. Don’t play the reluctant hero now. That is the cliché.”
Bryce seemed at a loss for words, so Hunt stepped in. “What about your eldest brother, with his armies? They seem perfectly content to slaughter innocent Midgardians.”
“Those armies have always been to help you. Not to conquer.”
“The attack on this city last spring suggests otherwise,” Hunt argued.
“A mistake,” Aidas said. “The beasts that swept in were … pets. Animals. Micah opened the doors to their pens. They ran amok as they saw fit. Fortunately, you took control of the situation before our intervention was required,” he said, smiling at Bryce.
“A lot of people died,” Ithan growled. “Children died.”
“And more will soon die in this war,” Aidas countered coolly. “Hel’s armies shall strike at your command, Bryce Quinlan.”
The words dropped like a bomb.
“Bullshit,” Ruhn said, face crinkling as he snarled. “You’re waiting for the right moment when we’re all at war with each other, so you’ll be able to find a way into this world at last.”
“Not at all,” Aidas said. “I already know the way into this world.” He pointed with a paw to Bryce and inclined his head. “Through my lovely Bryce and the Horn on her back.” Hunt suppressed a growl at the word my as all of them looked to her. Her eyes remained fixed on Aidas, her lips a thin line. The Prince of the Chasm said, “It’s your choice in the end. It has always been your choice.”
Bryce shook her head. “Allow me to get this straight: You’re here to convince me to rebel against the Asteri in front of all these people? And what—sign up with Ophion? No, thank you.”
Aidas only chuckled. “You should have looked more carefully at the cats picking through the trash in the alley of Ink Street this morning. Should have picked a more discreet location to discuss the rebellion with Fury Axtar.” Bryce hissed, but said nothing as Aidas went on, “But yes—by all means, turn rebel. Help Ophion, if you need some authority to answer to. I can tell you before you undoubtedly ask, I have no information about the connection between Danika Fendyr and Sofie Renast.”
Bryce growled, “I don’t even know any Ophion rebels.”
Aidas stretched out his front paws, back arching. “That’s not true.” Hunt stilled as the demon yawned. “There’s one right behind you.”
Bryce whirled, Hunt with her, lightning poised to strike.
Cormac Donnall stood in the doorway, shadows fading from his shoulders.
“Hello, Agent Silverbow,” Aidas crooned, then vanished.