I stood beside the barn-sized Magitech power generator, counting the dust bunnies on the floor. There were some brick bunnies and glass bunnies too. If I got lucky, none of them would spontaneously come to life. Stranger things had been known to happen on the plains of monsters.

Nero was talking on his phone to Ronan. He had it on speakerphone so I could hear too. Eavesdropping was so much harder with human hearing.

“The generator is bleeding corrupted power into the main barrier system,” Nero reported to the Lord of the Legion. “When the barrier around the city fell long ago, this generator—this part of the wall—was never properly cut off from the other barriers on the continent.”

I considered how we’d gotten into this situation. The Magitech barriers were connected throughout the continent in a grid so the whole barrier system could have consistent power, so they could be controlled together. But this efficiency had created the problem we were facing right now. In their arrogance, the gods had never dreamed that even a single barrier would fail.

The Magitech and designs the gods had given humanity were truly powerful. There was no denying that. So what had happened in the City of Ashes? It must have been something truly catastrophic if it brought down the city’s barrier. A saboteur attacking from the inside? I’d have to ask Nero later. I knew nothing of the events that had transpired here. There was nothing in the history books. In fact, I’d never even heard of the City of Ashes before Nero and Ronan had spoken of it on the airship. The gods must have wanted to bury any and all evidence that they were not infallible.

“It is a slow bleed of magic, a slow contamination, but it is growing,” Nero told Ronan. “We might have months before the continent’s barriers go down, or it might be a matter of hours. We need to send in an engineering team to come fix it before the whole system goes down and the monsters overrun every city in North America.”

Nero paused, waiting for Ronan to respond. The hiss and pop of the line echoed in the room. Finally, the God of War spoke.

“This turn of events is most disturbing,” he said. “Now more than ever before, it’s important that you complete your mission and save this city. This is no longer merely about your test; it’s about humanity’s very survival. I trust you will perform admirably, Colonel Windstriker.”

And with that said, Ronan hung up.

Nero put away his phone. He looked stunned. And it took a lot to stun Nero.

“I cannot believe what I just heard,” I said. “The world is at stake, and they are doing nothing?”

The gods weren’t always nice, but they did want to protect the Earth. Even if it was only for their own interests, whatever those were, they wouldn’t allow the barriers to fall. They wouldn’t allow civilization to fall into chaos.

Nero was quiet for a moment, looking thoughtful. Then he said, “This is the test.”

“What?”

“This isn’t a turn of events,” he said. “This is staged. All of it. Planned down to the last detail. This is all playing out exactly as the gods planned.”

“They knew about the danger to the continent’s barriers?”

“They not only knew about it. I believe they created the issue.”

I blinked. “But that’s insane. Surely the gods would not risk every city on the continent—so many lives—for a test.”

“They would.”

“That’s so…heartless.”

“That is the way of the gods, Leda. We are all players in their game. These are their rules.”

I struggled to put words to what I was feeling. Anger, betrayal, outrage, desperation, hopelessness, vengeance. My feelings tore me in a hundred different directions at once.

Nero set his hands on my shoulders. “Getting upset won’t save anyone. We need to stop the spread of the contaminated magic.”

“How?”

“The contaminated magic is weak. It’s a broken mixture of a dozen different wild magics from the monsters who have taken over the city. It has no strength, no harmony. If we flood the city’s Magitech generator with pure magic, it will wash away the corruption.”

“So how do we do that?”

“We need to jolt the generator back to life.”

Nero faced the generator and took a deep breath, slowly swinging his hands over his head. Lightning sizzled on his fingertips. He drew in another deep breath, then he blasted the generator with magic. It rumbled, like it was starting up, but then it stuttered out.

“I don’t have enough magic,” Nero said, his voice monotone.

Pain flashed across our connection. Ronan’s potion took this opportune moment to kick him while he was down, ripping the elemental magic away from him. I caught him as he fell. I nearly fell too, my knees buckling under his weight—and the strain of our connection. I felt the turmoil, the pain, the sense of failure—every horrible thing that he felt, as though it were my pain. As though it were my turmoil. It felt like being burned alive.

Nero recovered his balance. He glared at the snoring generator and declared, “It didn’t work.”

“That would have been too easy. These trials were designed to be tough for us.”

“Yes.” He let out a hard, humorless laugh. “They stripped me of the power I need to solve the problem. Of course they would not make the answer be so simple. But what is the answer? How can we fix this?”

Something tugged at my senses. I feared it was the next wave coming to take my magic away, but then I remembered I had no more magic left to take. This was something else. Something familiar buzzed inside my head. A noise. No, not a noise. A feeling. A presence. For some reason, it reminded me of Damiel, Nero’s father.

I was probably just imagining things. Damiel had offered to help Nero prepare for the Gods’ Trials. Nero, stubborn angel that he was, had refused. And now my mind was wondering what would have happened if he’d taken Damiel’s help.

You would have been prepared, the voice said. Damiel’s voice.

But Damiel was back in New York. Telepathic magic or not, he couldn’t speak to me from there.

Yes, I can.

Fantastic. The stress was finally cracking me. I was not only hearing voices in my head; I was talking to them too. I’d officially lost my mind.

Why do people who hear voices inside their head always assume they’re crazy?

Not now, Damiel. We are in the middle of a crisis.

Nero gave me a strange look.

“What?” I asked.

He tapped his forehead.

He can hear me too, Damiel told me.

Nero nodded.

So I’m not crazy?

No, you’re still crazy, Leda. But take solace in the fact that you’re not the only one.

The room faded before my eyes, swallowed by thick fog. A high-pitched ding chimed in the distance.

“A waking trance,” Nero said.

“Waking trance?”

“Damiel has put us in it.”

“Why?”

“That is a good question.” Nero looked around. “Do you recognize this place?”

The distant ding grew less distant, more defined. It sounded like a carousel melody. The fog cleared a little, revealing a carnival. Colorful lights flashed in front of rides and games. A pile of stuffed toy unicorns was stacked behind one of the stalls.

“This is the carnival that stops near Purgatory every summer,” I said. “Calli brought us here a bunch of times when we were kids.” I picked up one of the toy unicorns.

“A unicorn?” Nero asked.

“One summer, I won a few of them for me and my sisters.”

His brows arched in amusement.

“What? I like unicorns. They’re pretty.”

The fog rolled aside to reveal Damiel, one of the scariest angels who’d ever lived. And he was holding a fluffy pink unicorn in his arms.

“What is this all about?” Nero demanded. “What are we doing here? What are you doing here?”

“This is Leda’s mind. We are inside one of her lovely memories.” Damiel pointed at a young teenage me standing at one of the games, shooting metal cans with a slingshot.

“We don’t have time for this,” Nero told him.

“Indeed. There is little time,” Damiel agreed. “We must move quickly. I am using your connection to Leda to speak to you both.”

“You’re Nero’s father. How are we in my mind?” I asked him.

“I am connected to you through Nero. Whether he likes it or not, he is my son, and that too is a bond forged in magic.”

“But why my mind instead of Nero’s?”

“I chose your mind because right now your powers are cut off; your connection to the gods is severed. They cannot see or hear us here. We can speak freely,” said Damiel. “I’m sure you’ve realized by now that the gods’ potion does not affect the magic of your bond.”

Yeah, I had noticed that. And wondered about it.

“Such bonds are forged with a different kind of magic. It is an ancient magic that does not come from the gods’ Nectar—or from the demons’ Venom.”

“Damiel, this is all very fascinating, but I doubt you came here to talk about ancient magic. Do you know what is happening here?”

He smiled at me. “Straight to the point as always. Yes, I am aware of your situation.”

“Can you help us?” I asked.

“We are not cheating,” Nero told me.

I sighed. “Nero, when the world is at stake, you are allowed to cheat.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“We will find a way ourselves.”

Gods, the man was stubborn.

“We don’t have much time,” I told him. “The barriers will fail, and the monsters will flood every city on the continent. We cannot allow all of those people to die. Our friends. Our family.”

Nero looked at me. “We will find a way. We always do.”

“Don’t waste your breath, dear,” Damiel said to me. “Nero is too stubborn to accept my help.”

“Your help always comes at a price.” Nero folded his arms across his chest. “You always have an agenda.”

Damiel smiled. “Perhaps. But let’s not fool ourselves, Nero. So do you. You are your father’s son.”

Nero clenched his teeth.

“I’m glad you and Leda have bonded,” said Damiel. “She is a good influence on you.”

The bond. That was it!

“Right now, neither of us has much magic, but our bond is magical,” I said.

Damiel nodded. “Bonds between souls require a spark of light or dark magic to ignite. But the bond itself is woven with an ancient magic that the gods’ potion cannot smother.” He looked between me and Nero and said, “Yours is a particularly strong bond.”

“If we used the magic from our bond, would that be enough magic to start the generators and save everyone?” I asked.

“Indeed it would,” said Damiel.

“Leda…” Nero’s face was hard, but his eyes were as turbulent as a storm at sea.

Guilt crashed and turned inside of me. I’d hurt his feelings. He thought I was throwing away our connection.

“We could make it again, our bond, when we have our magic back,” I said quickly.

“Interesting,” Damiel commented.

“Enough,” Nero growled at Damiel. He looked at me, his tone a tad softer, “You too, Pandora.”

Despair ripped across our bond. Nero tried to hold it back, but it was like a tsunami slamming against the barriers of his mind—and his heart. This was my fault. I shouldn’t have suggested it. Our bond meant something to him. It meant something to me too. But if we could remake the bond, would it be worth sacrificing it for a short time to save millions of lives? I’d thought so when I’d suggested it, but now I just didn’t know. I reached for Nero, trying to comfort him.

Nero recoiled from my touch. “This is what they want.” He glared at Damiel. “Isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Nero’s gaze shifted to me. “This is why she’s here.”

“Yes,” Damiel said again.

The floodgates of our bond opened, and the tsunami crashed against me, drowning me in Nero’s agony. I’d never felt anything like it, not even when he’d lost his magic. I didn’t understand the tears streaming down my cheeks. I only knew that my heart was in pieces, and I’d never feel whole again.

“What is it?” I asked Nero, choking on my tears.

Anger flashed across our bond. Pure, undiluted rage. But Nero didn’t speak. I wasn’t sure that he could. Something had taken him over.

“An angel’s mark can be removed, albeit with great difficulty,” Damiel said. “But a bond like yours—a bond forged in love, not only possession—is a whole other kind of magic altogether. It is one of the most powerful kinds of magic there is. And it is for life.”

Nero punched through the support beams holding up a carnival stand. Wood splinters shot in every direction, and toy unicorns poured down to the ground.

“Only death can remove it,” Damiel finished.

And then it all clicked in my head. Nero’s pain. His anger. His helplessness. The only way to harness the power of our bond, to feed it into the Magitech generator and save millions of lives, was for me to die.