“I approve of this plan,” Enki contributed from inside the cylinder.

Lucy regarded me with a taut, full-bodied tension. “There’d better be an excellent reason,” he replied to me tersely. “We just wrangled him into position, and every second works against us. If Legba’s out of the picture, we win once I pull this trigger.”

I tried to collect the myriad thoughts whirling through my head into some form of workable explanation. They didn’t know about Baldr yet, so there was still a chance. I couldn’t let them figure it out.

“Okay,” I said, holding my palms up in a peace offering. “This is going to sound crazy, but you have to trust me. I’m calling in that favour you owe me from all those times you erased my memory. Fair?”

“Not until I know what I’m agreeing to, no.”

Oh, this wasn’t going to go down well. I took a deep breath and let the words out quickly. “We need Enki to resurrect Yahweh. Immediately.”

Once the first domino had fallen, the other pieces kept dropping into line. Baldr had destroyed Legba for his resurrection powers; it wasn’t much of a leap to assume Enki and anyone else with the ability would follow, depowered or otherwise. Like Hel. I pushed that last nugget of despair to the back of my mind.

Providence hadn’t called Baldr back from the grave, and it didn’t make sense. Tyrant or no, I’d seen the effect at work enough to know it should have been the one thing a collective of distrustful, dysfunctional deities could agree on.

Unless, of course, they didn’t. The same circle of accountability keeping our status quo churning around on its corporate hamster wheel despite overwhelming unpopularity could theoretically also keep other ideas in check, should its dictator decree it.

Before he’d died, the tyrant had mentioned a favour.

I hadn’t been the only one who knew. It was obvious in hindsight. Yahweh’s override must have afforded him immunity.

And the absolute bastard hadn’t said anything, just let me take the fall alone without so much as a hint of acknowledgment. I almost wanted to resurrect him just to maul him straight back into oblivion. Maybe a few times if once wasn’t enough. Of course, I’d have to deal with the angels mark two waking up again, but then, so would Baldr. And then at least two of us would know who was the bigger threat.

If I could get that far.

The look Lucy gave me could have melted steel beams. “In what universe –”

“Don’t think about it,” I interrupted. Lucy was quick; he’d connect the dots given an opening. “No analysis. Focus on this: if you’ve ever trusted anything I’ve told you, if our friendship has ever meant anything to you, now is the time you have to remember that and believe me. You already know something went wrong in Rome. Take it from me that it needs fixing, and we need your dad to do it.”

Lucy gave an incredulous shake of the head. “From where I’m standing, you sound compromised. You shut down for a few moments, and suddenly you’re advocating against your own agenda for someone you despise, no explanation attached. Is someone controlling you?”

Sigyn help me, it was already starting.

“No one’s controlling me,” I argued. I glanced between Vince and Enki, and decided confidentiality didn’t matter. “Fenrir, Parvati, Gungnir. Spear of Destiny. It’s me. Remember why we didn’t tell Tru about the demon lord thing? This is the same idea. Lucy –” I broke off, “– I have never been more serious. Tez was playing us and we can’t give him a chance to repeat it. We have to act now.”

Enki made a confused noise from inside the golden cylinder. “For the record,” he said, “and definitely off the record, I’d also prefer my supervisor stay dead. Maybe there’s a compromise to be found here such as, say, keeping me alive with no resurrections.”

“I trust you less than I trust Loki,” Lucy reminded him. He turned back to me and sighed. “There are two reasons why you wouldn’t be giving me a straight answer, and neither are looking good for you.”

“One little errand,” I specified, holding up a finger to illustrate. “Then we kill him again.”

“Sure, through his amassed and reinvigorated army.”

“Two armies,” I corrected on autopilot, then shook my head. Not helping myself. “Angels can be dealt with. It was the social weapons keeping him in power, not the physical ones. Those aren’t coming back. Someone like Durga could probably take out the creepies single-handed.”

Though Durga had never shown up. In the absence of conflicting evidence, I had to assume the worst: that Tez had gotten to her and explained the situation, or she’d been somewhere in the infected crowd. I had to assume she was now with the enemy.

But Lucy didn’t need to know that.

Badmouthing his pseudo-siblings also probably wasn’t helping my case, but I was operating under high amounts of stress and barely-curtailed panic. Though considering everything, not as bad as it could be.

My mind had been so occupied with Baldr I hadn’t noticed the place of power was lingering, even after leaving Rome. Lessened, perhaps, but there. I still had the visitation with Tru up and effortlessly running, and my focus had simply shifted from Italy to the grotto, the ocean around it instilling a vague gluggy feeling I wasn’t part of, but could be. Unlike Rome, full of competing energies drowning each other out for attention, here I sensed a distinct network of connections linking the edict to various other locations. One felt familiar even to me: Providence’s head office. The others, I didn’t know. Other prisons, at a guess. There weren’t many.

“No,” stated Lucy, bringing me back to the immediate problem. “I don’t buy it. Someone got to you. If it’s even you. That, or it’s a –”

I wanted to scream. “Yes, I know,” I snapped, exasperated, and switched over to speaking in private. I could only imagine what might happen if Enki figured it out. It’s a geas, Lucy. You’re under a geas. Everyone’s under a geas. I’m hoping you’ve got enough of your dad’s override to register what I’m saying before it trickles from between your ears into a puddle on the floor, because it doesn’t get worse.

“A geas,” he stated slowly, enunciating the symbols as if learning a new word.

“A geas,” I repeated aloud. “Don’t think about it, even for a second. Please.”

Lucy didn’t point the gun at me, but didn’t take his finger off the trigger, either. “You realise how unlikely this sounds,” he stated, fixing me with an even stare.

“Because that’s what it does,” I stressed.

“The only behaviour to change here has been yours,” the devil pointed out. “That would suggest you’re the one being influenced. No one else. If this isn’t a trick of Providence’s.”

About as reasonable as I could hope for, considering, but it didn’t stop my heart from sinking. “I can work with that,” I bargained. “You can accept the existence of a geas; that’s a start. I just need you to take it one step further. Rake me over the coals for it; I’ll take whatever blame you want and more. But let Enki go.”

“Seconded,” Enki chimed in. “In the interest of fairness, I’m almost through this cage anyway, in which case neither of you get what you want.”

“Then run far away from here,” I insisted, highlighting the urgency in my voice. “Providence is dead. Make it another star if you can. Hide yourself first against trackers and seers. Don’t let anyone find or talk to you. About anything. Make Yahweh a prison he can’t escape from; give it as many protections as you want, and then summon me. Or if you don’t want to do that, just sit there and rewrite the rules of the universe to make mind control impossible. We can all agree on free will, right?”

Lucy’s normally clear brow furrowed. I’d said too much. I could see him struggling, trying to hold on to a version of reality moving rapidly away from him. I’d seen it before, when it didn’t take someone right away. On Odin, when I’d tried to warn him. On Hel and Fenrir, my family. Even on Sigyn, whose very nature had opposed control. But Baldr had always been stronger.

“That would indeed make sense,” Enki said slowly. “I’ve been advocating for similar mass improvements for some time. But it would take years to arrange. Universal amendments require great precision, or the consequences can be catastrophic.”

“I’ll take it,” I said, watching the micro-expressions continue to flit across Lucy’s features. “Talk to no one till it’s done. See? Rational compromise, fair and square, where everyone wins.”

“Except the plan,” said Lucy. “Am I supposed to risk the world on taking Enki at his word? Do I need to remind you what he’s personally done?”

‘I’, not ‘we’. This was going downhill. “Lucy –”

“No. I’m not sacrificing everything we worked for because of one of your episodes.” His finger tightened around the trigger, and the cylinder around Enki resumed its constriction.

Crap, crap, crap – he’d made at least half the connection. I couldn’t let him get the rest of the way. In a smooth motion, I stepped in front of the pistol, squeezed the barrel and held it against my exposed forehead. “You’ll have to get through me.”

“I’ll possess you.”

“You’re too weak,” I pointed out. I let my arm flow over the weapon, coating it in layers of diamond and steel and jamming the works from the inside. The weapon wouldn’t distend or break, but its ammunition wouldn’t get very far. Thanks to Janus’ intervention – the memory hit me like a truck that Janus’ fourth face had been in the void during Baldr’s first stint, where his mind control couldn’t reach – Lucy’s best weapons against me had been severely diminished. Here, now, he couldn’t win.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

As if to make a mockery of me, the arm encrusting the godkiller crumbled to dust, and I was left staring dumbfounded at its partially bloody stump, cut off at the elbow. The moment cost me; Lucy blinked to the other side of the grotto and re-aimed. Exploding into motion, I darted around the other side and caught the bullet in a mass of tendrils, solidifying into a protective wall around the cylinder. Another item to add to the list of the day’s injuries. Ignoring the pain, I slammed another limb towards Lucy’s gun hand only for that, too, to disintegrate.

A whiff of hagalaz intruded on my senses, and I turned some of my eyes towards Vince. The occultist had backed himself into a wall and looked utterly petrified.

Hagalaz, rune of destruction. Couldn’t get more straightforward than that.

“Stay out of this,” I gargled, hoping the sound of it coming from a dozen mouths would terrify him further into inaction. I didn’t want to hurt either of them, but was running out of options.

Instead, I found my entire body falling apart. I scrambled to rebuild it, but Vince tore me down as fast as I could change, the ring around Enki fluctuating wildly as pieces collapsed and re-established themselves in seconds. Lucy fired in rapid succession, and I took another two hits of barely-deflected agony from a weapon that would have straight-up killed most others.

Changing tacks, I took control of the ground under Vince’s feet and used it to warp him away, reasserting myself as a dominant fixture. It held for all of five seconds, and then my barrier was dust again. Lucy had his teeth gritted; feeding the demon lord the information to keep going from a distance. He fired as I shifted the ground, sending it off-course, and a bullet pierced the shield to take Enki in the shoulder. The god of magic yelped.

“Stop!” he cried. “Stop it. Both of you. And the demon. Stop.”

Lucy ignored him, rising into the air; likewise I moved to deflect.

“I said, stop.”

The word boomed around the domed chamber. The golden cylinder shattered, sending fading light spiralling to the ground in broken shards. Enki vanished from its centre.

I’d done it. I just had to hope Enki listened to me, kept away from it all, and did the sensible thing.

I reconstituted in human form uninterrupted, bleeding from three peripheral locations, a finger and toe each missing entirely. I couldn’t get them back.

Lucy stared at me in the sudden silence, still suspended mid-air. He lowered the gun. “What is wrong with you? Why now?”

“I already told you,” I said wearily, conjuring bandages around myself to wrap around my injuries. “Have you forgotten already?”

“I remember clearly,” Lucy drawled. He dropped back to the floor and took over the gauze I was struggling with, getting it done much faster. “You said it yourself. I inherited part of the override. If one of us was likely to get infected with a geas, which of us do you think it would be? Bearing in mind you had another one you didn’t know about until only a few days ago.”

“Which also affected you,” I shot back. “Trust me. This is worse.”

“Even so.”

“I’ve tried to tell you before,” I persisted.

“I know. I was there.”

“And you can remember? That’s more than most. You should compare notes with others. That alone should tell you I’m onto something.”

Lucy’s eyes narrowed.

“Please,” I said tiredly. “Just don’t think about it. It’s easier on us both.”

“It’s a little late for that. What you did might have jeopardised the revolution. There won’t be another chance after this. Not with all the memory wipes in the universe.”

“Then do me a favour,” I said, “since you still owe me one. Burn it to the ground. No new management. Not you, not anyone.”

“Providence, or the world?”

“I don’t think it matters at this point.”

“You can do it yourself,” Lucy said, tying off the end of the bandage with a flourish. “I’m not giving up on you just yet. Whatever’s going on, you’re obviously a victim.”

“You might not think that in a few minutes,” I commented. I checked the stump and grimaced.

Lucifer made a frustrated noise, and his hands descended upon on my shoulders. “You need to listen, because this is important,” he said, gripping them. “You and I will always be friends. Even if your quirks occasionally mean we end up on opposite sides of a conflict. Don’t think I didn’t notice you avoiding hurting me.”

I blinked back at him. “Likewise.”

“Good.” He removed the hands. “Sorry about Vince. After the first one, I knew it wouldn’t deal you any real damage.”

“After the first one,” I echoed dryly. “And he nearly did get me several times. It was only the place of power that saved me.”

Lucy raised his eyebrows. “It’s still there? Here? Loki, that has to mean something.”

“By all means, fire your guesses. I’m all out. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before.”

“Hmm. It could have been triggered by your visit to Yggdrasil. The timing checks out.”

I shook my head. “It was definitely centred on Rome. At least at first.”

“Then maybe it’s because the world’s ending.”

“That,” I asserted, “would imply the existence of predeterministic factors, which I refuse to believe have anything to do with this. If Fate isn’t dead, seers wouldn’t be able to change anything. Everyone knows that.”

I also couldn’t see global destruction as being something Baldr would pursue. The world was his plaything; he had every reason to keep it around, even if that meant half of it was on fire.

“I don’t know,” Lucy said. “The way Janus was talking, he seemed fairly certain.”

“I don’t suppose he mentioned where he was going?”

Lucy shook his head.

It was probably a lost cause anyway. Janus had sat out the first round of mind control, but there was nothing to protect him from the second. I kicked myself for not raising it with him while I’d had the chance. He might have been able to do something. And now, en route to reintegrate with his other self, he’d be far out of reach, less able to see the light than Lucy. And now we had two seers out there controlled by Baldr. Wonderful.

“Also, it doesn’t make sense,” I added, bringing the conversation back on track. “Sure, a few hippies think I’ll end the world. More people think that about you.”

“True.” The devil stroked his chin. “General chaos?”

I gave him a look. “Have you met me?”

“Exactly. It only strengthens my point. Maybe you’ve secretly been a god of chaos this whole time, and it was only the presence of overbearing fascism keeping it at bay.”

“I grew up on Jötunheim,” I deadpanned. “I think I would have noticed.” Though Apollo had made a similar comment in the Zambezi. Only minutes ago Neetu had noted it too, though not in as many words.

Could I be? Chaos was an abstract, and I was very much a literal practitioner.

“There’s one other possibility,” Lucy mused, oblivious to my train of thought. “And that’s that this is new. That you’ve changed.”

“Yes, that’s kind of what I do,” I said.

“You know what I mean. It happened to Hel, didn’t it? Maybe she inherited it. It’s rare, but it can happen, shifting domains.”

“I don’t know if shapeshifting counts as a domain,” I said. “That implies bigger territory; things like –”

“– places of power,” Lucy finished for me. “It’s worth looking into, after we’re done desecrating the seat of authority.” He held out a hand. “There’s nothing to be done about Enki now. Let’s gather the others and finish this.”

Reality crashed back down on me like investor confidence during a poor dividend season.

“No,” I said, backing away. “No, I’m going away for a while.”

The stunned expression on Lucy’s face almost made me change my mind. “What? But we just covered this. We’re supposed to be in this together.”

“And we are,” I stipulated. “From a distance. But I can’t show my face around Providence for a while.”

“We just murdered its body of leadership and sent the world spiralling into an as-yet-undiagnosed paradigm shift,” said Lucy. “Of course we can’t show our faces. But we agreed we’re doing it anyway. You just said Tez betrayed us; if we’re going ahead without him, we need everyone we can get.”

I wiped a hand over my forehead. “It’s complicated.”

“They really did a number on you.”

I glared at him. “Mayari’s unavailable keeping the suppressants vault intact,” I said. “I’m injured on the outside. You’re injured on the inside. Tez…” I sent him the visuals, and heard the expected sharp intake of breath.

“What happened?”

“You know why I can’t tell you.”

“Try me.”

I studied him, as open as I’d ever seen him. I’d gotten what I’d come for with Enki – partially – and he’d find out the rest soon enough. I wasn’t headed to Providence, of that much I was sure.

“Baldr’s back,” I revealed.

For a fraction of a second, I saw the lift of the brows, the upturn of the lips, the sheer pleased relief, and I hated Baldr even more; hated him with every molecule I possessed, before it vanished under Lucy’s unfazed mask of diplomacy.

“Ah,” he said.

“Yes, ‘ah’. Look, I know what you think,” I said, “but it’s wrong. You don’t have to believe me; I know you can’t. But if you can remember some of it, like what he’s done to Tez, you might notice other details that don’t add up. When that happens, at least consider what I told you.”

“That’s not the hardest thing in the world,” said Lucy. The undercurrent of stress had eased from his stance, I noticed. “About Providence –”

“All I ask,” I cut him off, “is that you stay out of his way, find Durga, and finish burning that wretched building.”

“That would be a lot easier with your help.”

“In this climate? If I were you, I’d stick to the official line. Say I was lost to Siphon.”

He considered me for a few moments, the strategies and arguments to win me over remaining unsaid. “And when it eventually gets out?”

I grinned half-heartedly. “That’s a problem for future Lucy.”

“So that’s your game,” Enki’s voice announced nearby.

In unison, we turned our heads. The god of magic casually held up a hand as Lucy whipped out the godkiller and fired it at his head. The bullet bounced off an invisible wall and ricocheted into the opposite wall, narrowly missing its instigator. He didn’t shoot again.

I groaned, turned, and physically bashed my head against the nearest wall. “Why? I just saved you. Why would you – is this how Apollo feels? I hate it and want a reassignment.”

“Relax.” Enki grinned at me. He’d sobered up in the interim between appearances, his wound still raw under the ripped fabric. “I’m immune. I took your advice, isolated and protected myself against mind control. Imagine my surprise when I discovered I already had an insidious little resident. Rest assured it’s now gone.”

“Now there are two of you?” Lucy shook his head. “What have I gotten myself into?”

Enki shot me a quizzical look.

“It’s like that,” I stated, not daring to let the relief in quite yet. “You can say things right in front of them and it doesn’t really register. And Lucy’s better than most.”

“I can hear everything just fine,” Lucy argued, sheathing the pistol reluctantly into his inner jacket. “And you came back awfully fast for these so-called precautions. If you’re attempting to take advantage of Loki, I won’t be impressed.”

Enki opened his mouth, stopped, and glanced up towards the ceiling. “Uh-uh, no you don’t,” he said, and wiggled his fingers. Vince reappeared in the centre of the room, soaking wet and glowing faintly with blue runelight. “Now, if we can all stop trying to assassinate each other for a few minutes, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

Lucy folded his arms in silence, or at least to the drip of Vince’s clothes leaking ocean onto a layer of barnacles.

“I want proof,” I demanded. “I want to believe you, but it wouldn’t be the first time someone lied to get me on side. And Lucy’s right. You don’t act this fast.”

“It’s a failsafe,” Enki replied. “Executive access only. To be used only in the event of a catastrophic emergency where the existence of Providence is threatened.” He made a small bow. “I built it myself.”

Lucy stiffened. “This is why we couldn’t let him go,” he told me in an accusatory tone. “This is what I was afraid of.”

“Lucky for you, I’m on your side,” Enki said. “Well, ish. Normally I’d be opposed to using it, since the consequences are dire. But this is a world where your crew eradicated my entire peer group, initiated an imminent Armageddon event and caused widespread carnage at a number of key loci. I’d say there’s not much to lose.”

“And?” Lucy asked.

If Lucifer is being mind controlled, he shouldn’t hear this. Enki glanced my way.

I agreed in principle. But it was Lucy. While the rest of the world had still hated me for Baldr and Ragnarok, he’d reached out in spite of it. Like my family before him. Really, he was family.

Baldr’s reach was absolute, but his topic, limited. When I’d thought no one would trust me, Lucy had. I was a murderer in his eyes – and it didn’t matter. And now, even now, he was trying.

I trust him, I responded, despite the disagreement in my absent fingers. It was time to return the favour.