Page 123 of The Unseen Hour

“They’re too restless. Either they can sense the importance of this particular hour, or somehow our count is wrong,” Orion said when he’d returned.

Either way, the remaining weeks until the hour were dwindling. We still needed Death’s final details, but there was plenty we were doing on our own. We didn’t know what we would need to do on the hour, but we spent hours each day reviewing the landscape of Emrys, in case that’s where Death needed us to be.

Orion taught me what he could about the other countries, because it was also possible that whatever strategy Death was relying on involved us entering Rayus in another place.

I’d worked with my remaining jewelry, knowing the tree hoppers’ love of shiny things, and taught them to follow me as I held the glinting jewels. We couldn’t exactly stuff them in a satchel, so we’d try to get them to follow us out of the Ether. But ultimately it would be their choice whether to leave or not—assuming they even could.

Orion had also been working with me more on using the dagger I still kept strapped to my leg. It was no use against Charon, or a Shade, but we wanted to be prepared for anything.

“Again, but this time, when you lunge watch the weight on this leg.” He demonstrated a better stance. “That way, you won’t lose your balance as easily.”

“All this for a foe we may not even face,” I griped, although my voice didn’t have much sting in it. I was tired from training, but I appreciated what Orion was doing.

He wanted to protect me, but he understood how much I wanted to be able to look after myself as well.

I took a few steps in the clearing where we practiced, where several tree hoppers were cawing from the trees. After a sip from one of the waterskins, I took the stance again and went through Orion’s paces.

I lunged toward a stuffed dummy he’d set up. Grass and discarded bits from the garden were stuffed into some material and then hoisted up by a stick. I stabbed it in its center, then stepped back and readied to try again.

Lightning struck the training dummy, setting it ablaze.

Death stood in front of us, wisps of white smoke wafting from where she’d appeared.

“I’ve set Charon on Odos’s trail for the time being, but I expect that won’t keep him distracted for long. I’ve meddled too much, and he’s more and more hesitant to leave his realm. Although he’s also more and more smug. He really thinks he’s going to win—all the better for us. He’ll be taken by surprise. You did get the second item, yes?” Death asked, leaning forward and holding a hand out.

Today’s mask was black again, a dark void hiding her expressions.

Orion nodded.

“Yes. Sheet music, hidden within Charon’s home, just as you had guessed.”

“Excellent! I knew the two of you could do it.”

I sheathed my knife, then went and got the music, holding it toward her.

“Here, if you unfurl it, there are notes written along the paper.”

I moved to place the music in her palm, but she pulled back.

“I won’t hold it. It should stay in your hands. Charon won’t notice they’ve been moved while they remain in his realm and still technically under his control. During the hour, he’ll be busy with the Shades, and his plans, which should give you time. I won’t touch it, but I can tell you how we’ll use both items.”

What Death laid out was simple in theory but would be complicated in execution.

The way she described it, the gods of our world had once been much less powerful.

“Not exactly mortal, like you, but much closer than we are now. Emrys, and the surrounding lands, used to hold long-lived beings and abilities that you people now cannot fathom. At one point, we realized that power, or magic if you’d prefer the term, was fading from Rayus. Experts from many fields experimented with all sorts of ways to keep ourselves healthy and powerful, but with lackluster results. I was part of a group of several intelligent individuals brought together, each with their own talents, determined to search for a solution. We were trying to prevent death itself. It didn’t work, as you can see. No one can prevent this.”

She gestured to herself, the portion of her expression I could see so wry that I couldn’t help letting a small laugh escape, but my mind stuck on the rest of her statement. Things in Emrys, and the rest of Rayus, had been far different than I would have thought. And if our ancestors from generations ago had been more powerful, was there a way to work back to that?

“Initially, we’d worked with basic plants and herbs, like what your apothecaries would sell. That didn’t fix the problem, though. We searched further and delved deeper, looking for a better option. We found the answer in what you humans now call the ‘lost country.’ No herb, or potion, but a substance. Running through the earth. It took us time to extract it and experiment. You could crush it and ingest it, and the results were”—she took a deep breath—“exhilarating, but short-lived.”

What she spoke of sounded less like science and medicine and more like superstition. Darker than the Unseen Hour.

“One of the others eventually figured it out. We could fuse the substance to ourselves, permanently. But how best to use it? We didn’t have enough for all of Rayus. Instead, we chose to split it between the six of us, making us into gods. One from each country, with the exception of Emrys. It has always had the highest population, and we concluded that two spots were warranted. At least, we did after some debate.”

I could only imagine, if their bickering now was any indication, how unfriendly that debate must have been.

I tried to think of how to word my question in a way that wouldn’t sound impertinent but couldn’t come up with one.