Circling back, I try to find her. I shouldn’t have followed the boy, but he intrigues me. The sliver of power that flowed from him was unexpected. He climbed the stairs to his home just a few blocks from where he left her staring after him. He is lucky her stare only contained curiosity and not interest. I shift to a large raven, watching him through his window. I fixate on an unfinished painting on his easel. Her face, shafts of sunlight highlight the copper undertones of her caramel skin. Her large eyes shimmer silver but are filled with longing and sadness as she stares into the distance. I can tell she was unaware of his observation, and he captured the feelings she seems to hide from those around her. Delicate hands are raised to her parted mouth, one slender finger sliding over her full lower lip and in the others dangles a world card from a very old tarot deck.

Whatever she read in her cards is bothering her. I rush back and shift on her balcony, unable to stay from her any longer. Using my power, I slide the lock on the French doors, opening them, making no sound as I move slowly into her home. Her scent wraps around me, and closing my eyes, I try to steady myself as need pounds through me. Shaking my head, I make my way to the door of the bedroom, listening closely, but I hear nothing but the low whirring of the ceiling fan. Nothing. Grabbing the knob, I shove the door open, empty. I turn around slowly, fists clenched. Where is she? Stalking back to the balcony, I leap to the ground, ignoring the gasps of the tourist on the street. Pulling the shadows to me, I disappear in front of their eyes before stalking down the street. I don’t go far and then once again I’m walking on four feet, nose scenting for her trail. It’s not long until I’m standing at the back door of the restaurant. Sneaky wench. Vanished. I could use my power to track her. I should, but letting it out is dangerous.

Not just for me. I look around as I walk down the busy street. They are so blissfully unaware. Most are, at least; I haven’t missed the lingering looks from a few that live here. The city is filled with those who, like me, are hiding in plain sight, they who have power and can sense the magnitude of what I hold tightly leashed within me. If I were to unleash it, then even those without the knowledge would become aware. He will descend upon this city, destroying any and everything to get to me. My feet take me to Armstrong Park, where even now, late into the night and moving toward morning, a musician plays his music. The lonely notes of a trumpet echo like ghosts from the past, a tribute to his hero. Stopping on the stone bridge, I listen until the sound dies, the last note low and solemn, matching my mood. Pushing away from the rail, I make my way to the other side before stepping off the path and moving under the low sweeping branches of one of the oak trees this area is famous for. I part the moss like a curtain, letting it fall closed behind me. Another branch grows low, curving into a natural seat that beckons, and I sit, adjusting until I can lean back held by the tree.

Her power whispers through me, a hint, just enough to let me know she is with me. “Yggdrasil,” I murmur, pleased to feel her after these long months of self-imposed silence.

‘My son, it is you who have been hiding, not I.’

“You know why.” I feel my emotions begin to bubble.

‘I know that you cannot hide from what you truly are.’ It’s worked so far. ‘Has it really? I don’t understand why you are here then. You came here to feel me, find me, talk to me, didn’t you?’ Maybe. Sighing I shift my feet, letting my legs hang toward the ground.

“I could stay here… with her.” I finally voice what I truly want. Another touch of power washes over me.

‘Would you hide your true self from her? She knows you have a role in the war. Is she the type of human to ignore that? Don’t forget, she has a destiny as well. It is not to hide away while the world burns around her.’

Pushing up, I drop down from the branch, lifting my face up and glaring at the ancient tree. “You did that. You gave her that power,” I growl.

‘Not I. Her power come from her. Yes, I gave her a boost to her gift of sight that came from her ancestors of our blood, but her true power flows from the one they named Gaia, she who’s greater than us. She chose that amazing human woman to protect us all.’ Her words bring me to my knees. ‘Cora doesn’t know or understand the scope of the magic and power that lives in her. He will seek to destroy her before she can harness it.’

“NO!” The word is ripped from my body as the first rays of light penetrate the mossy curtain. Struggling, I try to control the power. Through gritted teeth, I plead, “If it gets free, I will not be able to stop, I will never be me again.” My greatest fear, the power, ancient and vast, has corrupted every warrior in my line, including Odin. It cajoles and seduces until you lose yourself, until you are a prisoner to it.

‘If she could save this world, couldn’t she save you? Maybe saving you is HOW she saves the world.’ The words whisper through my mind as her power fades away.