“Hey! Hey! Hawk!” she heard, up ahead, as the flicker of light between trees resolved into pale leaves and people in khaki. Oh, wonderful, beautiful people. And the Light Archon was with them. Hawk hadn’t realized how terrified she’d been for the man until she’d seen him with the rest of the crew. The crew. These were hers. Her people. Her crew.

Plus Kaiser. He was there, too.

“Don’t stop,” The Light Archon said. Amazingly, he still had his mask on.

Hawk did not need to be told twice. She hiked up her borrowed robes—she would never complain about khaki pants again—and kept up the pace as much as she could. Twice she had to help the Archon up. Once, it took both herself and Henry to help Kaiser back up. And then the light from the fire and the noise from the tent receded far enough for Kaiser to say, “Enough. If they’re gonna catch us now they’re gonna catch us no matter what. I need to fucking sit down.”

“What,” Em breathed. “The actual fuck.” Breathe. “Was that?”

“That is what happens when the Shadowmaster is moving. He starts screwing with the other Gods, and the fallout is usually bad.”

“A lot of people just died.” Em said, breathing hard. “And Alex killed them.”

“Did he?” Henry stepped in, while Hawk was just trying to remember how her lungs worked. “Because they didn’t look much like people when this guy started the flamethrower. And we don’t know for sure, one-hundred-percent, that this guy is Alex.” Deep breath. Henry sucked air down like it was about to be lit on fire. “Sorry, Hawk. But he didn’t act much like Alex.”

He did, actually, Hawk thought. Only he acted like Alex had when she first met him. Baylor West’s con artist son. She recognized the bravado-with-receipts attitude. If she assumed (and it felt like a safe assumption) that the Archon had done something to bring Shadowmaster down on them tonight, then that fit your average Alex West diversion…if you gave him unlimited firepower to play with.

Alex always said limits and boundaries were good. She was starting to see why.

“Let’s worry less about who was going off back there, and worry more about where we go next,” Hawk said. “We have got to get back to the Temple of Light and the Nexus. That’s where the Prism is.”

“The what?” the Light Archon said, mildly.

“I don’t think we should be talking about top secret matters with the aboriginals.” Kaiser sniffed.

Hawk slammed a hand down on the nearest object, which happened to be a black-barked tree. “Shut up.”

“I don’t appreciate—”

“Shut. Up.” She said, and her tone finally got his attention. “That man is the only reason any of us are alive right now—”

“And we’re in this danger because you went haring off alone!” Kaiser shouted.

“Yes. Because I remember you stopping Alex from going to Bittermoss. I remember it so clearly.” She shouted, forgetting everything but her own hurt, her own grief, and her own world ending anger at this man for opposing her. For taking her family away, her person, her entire life. There would be an Alex shaped hole in it now.

“Yes. Because you ran the fuck away. That’s what happened isn’t it, Miss West. You got scared, you got overwhelmed and you ran on home while your precious fucking husband took all the risks. So don’t you stand there and tell me where my courage is failing, or what mistakes I’ve made.”

“Kaiser, that’s not fair,” Henry said.

The Lion of Industry, splattered in blood and ash and looking like he’d just been dragged through all the white-leafed brush, wheeled on Henry Dyson, who looked as if he’d been dragged through several bushes, and he said, “I think you’d do good, Doctor Dyson, to remember who you are working for. These kids managed to nose their way in without an NDA and I let ‘em, but I got you, little man. I got you by the fucking balls.”

“And perhaps you should remember where you are, and with whom.” The Archon said. Kaiser slowly turned.

“Sorry. You know how it is. The Help gets uppity.” He said.

“In the God-world—”

“Christ. It sounds so stupid when you say that,” Kaiser said.

“—you are quite clearly among the gods.” The Archon said.

“I beg your pardon?” Kaiser said.

“You manner and expectations of worship are clear. And God you might be, in the God-world, but in this one you are a mortal man, and without me you’d be lost in the dark.”

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Silence.

“Can we have a little light?” Hawk said, softly. “It’s very dark.”

“Pity, but no.” The Archon said. “And we should walk further before we take that risk.”

“Can you get us back to the Temple of Light?” she said.

“Of course I can. We’re still in the Shoar. Those are the forests between the Temple of Light and the City of Waters. Every leaf in the Shoar grows towards the Temple. They get light we cannot even see, and while they grow sparse here, on the outer hills, the Shoar will be thick before the light returns to our vision. The good news is that we will travel faster than the Pavilion.”

“The Gods kind of blew up the pavilion,” Henry said.

A sigh. “Indeed. And it will be rebuilt tonight with fresh silk, and will be halfway towards the City of Waters before they next sleep.”

“But…but they were attacked!?” Em said.

“And the wounded will be left behind. In our eyes, they have failed their Gods tonight, because Shadowmaster attacked without warning, without reprisal, and the Gods will be forced into retreat, if that has not already begun. Eventually the Shadow will get bored—this was entirely for our benefit—”

“Our benefit?” Henry said. He was breathing hard now.

“Fine. My benefit, then. Because I am a soft hearted fool who had mercy on a deserving woman. And I have protected that woman, your friend, far past any action that is sane or reasonable. I am a dangerous man because I have a dangerous friend. But that danger has served you, hasn’t it?”

He waited.

Henry slowly backed down.

“As I said. Eventually, he will tire. It’s been some time since he’s had an excuse to confront the Gods directly. He will come find us.”

Silence. That went on. And on.

“And then?” Em said.

“And then? Well, most of you seem good at keeping your mouths shut, you,” and this was pointedly at Willheim, “notwithstanding. Don’t piss him off. He’ll make sure I’m alright, maybe give us something to help us along the way. He won’t be around long. As for you,” and he rounded on Willheim.

“You going to tell me how to get to the mountain, Mohammad?” Kaiser said.

“I’m considering not telling you a thing.” The Archon adjusted his robes and his mask. “Except then you would manage to foul something else up.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” came a whispering voice, echoing around the small clearing they’d found. “I’m not like them. I put credit where it’s due.”

And with a flare of light and a swirl of tattered velvet, there was suddenly a man leaning against the nearest tree.

“Offend me, and you’ll be the only one who pays for it. Mattias.” He bowed to the Light Archon, who harumphed uncomfortably. “And you have your little apprentice, after forfeiting the position entirely. I trust we’re well?”

Kaiser, being Kaiser, shoved his way through to the front. Given that there were only four people, and there wasn’t much to front, Hawk was a bit impressed. “Excuse me, sir, I don’t think we’ve met.”

The Shadowmaster looked at Kaiser, looked at his outstretched hand, batted it away and turned to the Light Archon. “I came to help you. Not listen to refuse. I’ll take my thanks and be on my way.”

“Wait!” The word snapped out of Hawk before she was ready. He turned, and she was devastated all over again. It was Alex’s look, Alex’s expressions, his little quirk of the lips, his raised eyebrow. But it was the way he’d behave to a stranger, and one he wasn’t particularly fond of. But that’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? The best result there could possibly be: this being, this person, having no connection to her. And there was no way to hide it. Her grief ripped through whatever mask she chose to wear. She felt naked in front of him, when it was only tears.

And Kaiser was watching her, and watching him.

“Do you know who I am?” she said, and it felt like she’d just ripped out an organ, because she heard his dismissive “No” before he had a chance to say it. It was in everything about him; his body language. His attitude.

“Should I?” he said. “As something more than the idiots ripping apart my Nexus?”

“No,” She said it very softly, and pumped as much finality into this as she could. She tried to project it. “I suppose you shouldn’t.” And there. It felt like she’d just eviscerated her own abdomen, but Kaiser, watching, looked faintly disappointed. It also had a flare of disgust, as if he couldn’t stand what he was watching. Buy it, she thought, hysterically. You buy it, you bastard.

“Then it’s settled.”

“But we’re lost.” She blurted out. “We don’t know where to go. We have no transportation and no light, and we know nothing about this world.” Part of her tried to convince herself this was what she’d do if she really was losing Alex: fight to keep him here. But the rest of her knew this wasn’t an act. She wanted him to stay. To look at her with love in his eyes, weird as they were. She could deal with the eyes and the hands and the hair like drifting midnight. She could deal with the fact of being an Archetype or a God or whatever the hell he was now, as long as he was here. As long as he stayed.

But that wasn’t safe. Not for either of them.

“Make cold-fire.” He said.

“I don’t know how,” she said.

That got his attention. “It’s the most basic skill. You learn it before you’re out of childhood.”

“We don’t have skills. We don’t have magic. The world you call the God-world is very different from this one. We don’t understand your world. I don’t understand how you can live down here with no light. How can you have food? How can you have anything?” Some of her hysteria escaped with that last sentence. She felt herself crying again. She took a few deep breaths to slow herself down. “So you see…I don’t know where to go.”

“And you’d ask a God for mercy? After traveling in that procession, you’d trust me?” He said.

“Yes,” She said.

“Why be that foolish?” he said.

“Because you recognize the pavilion is wrong. No one else has. Except maybe the Light Archon—”

Rage. Immediate and hot, so much so that even his eyes gained a faint glow, and spots of light and color appeared across his skin, jewel toned in his hair. “No. His name is Mattias. You will use that, and not their poisoned rules.”

“I will call the Archon Mattias,” she said, carefully measuring her tone. “When he wants me to call him Mattias.” A pause. No. That didn’t feel like nearly enough. “It’s not for us to decide his vows have no value.”

His rage banked. The colors faded. The Shadowmaster with Alex’s face now narrowed his eyes. “Well. For the respect you have shown. But I’ll recommend against cold-fire. I have my own reserves of power that have nothing to do with this world or any other, but the same’s not true for the others.”

“The other gods?” she said.

“Gods and men. They all draw power from the same place. What? You haven’t guessed, yet, girl? The power the so-called Gods draw upon, and the power behind the cold light, all comes from the same place:

“It’s all being drained from your world.”