Gods like to party.

I don’t.

Not like this, anyway. Not when I have to shake hands, exchange pleasantries with Gods I’ve never met and people bowing in front of me. My idea of a party is a gettogether in a pub with some friends. Not this.

A lot more Gods than expected have come.

“They want to see the Demigoddess,” Tamara whispers as she accompanies me on the way to the dais. “You were famous as soon as you were born. Now that you’ve returned to our world, they’re curious. Demigods are known for their powers and unpredictability. Half of them probably want to see you explode during the party while the other half are interested in matchmaking.”

I stop in my tracks and gape at her. “Matchmaking? Like… relationships?”

Tamara nods. “They assume that being with Beira’s daughter will give them influence and power.”

I shudder in disgust. “I’d rather explode and take them all with me into the abyss.”

She chuckles. “I wouldn’t have expected anything else from you. But please keep the exploding to a minimum. This is an important evening and we can’t afford to end up with dead Gods.”

I grimace. She’s right, sadly. We need their support.

When we reach the dais, I turn around and look at the assembled crowd. There must be at least fifty Gods and Goddesses, maybe more. All of them are wearing their finest clothes – or maybe not, who knows if they ever put on leisurely outfits. I can’t imagine Gods like Zeus in jeans. Not that he’s here. He’s one of the minor Gods, actually, and not worth our time. According to Tamara, he doesn’t even have his own Realm. No idea how he got so famous.

Tamara gives one of the servants the signal to blow a trumpet. Yes, an actual trumpet. It’s strange how medieval some things are here. They could have just clinked some glasses together or used their magic to get everyone’s attention.

Everybody falls quiet and looks up at me. My mind goes blank for a moment. What was I going to say?

“Her Royal Highness, Daughter of Winter, the Slayer of Demons, the Heir to the Throne, the Lady Wynter."

I huff in annoyance. I’ve told the herald several times to leave out the demon slayer bit. I’m sure most Guardians and even Gods in this room have killed demons before. It’s nothing special.

I raise my voice and smile at the crowd.

“Welcome to the Winter Realm. I’m so pleased you’ve all managed to come at such short notice. You all know what situation is facing the Realms, and I’m sure I’m going to have some enlightening conversations with many of you tonight. But for now, please enjoy the food and entertainment. I know many of you are curious about the place I grew up in, so I have personally chosen some Earth delicacies for you to try.”

No, I haven’t, that was all Arc’s idea. He told the cooks to make some British nibbles like sausage rolls and puff pastry pies. He then decided to add some fried haggis balls to the menu. The whisky sauce has mysteriously disappeared though, and I wonder if it’s ended up in Arc’s enormous stomach. I hope he and the others know not to get drunk tonight. They have an evil Goddess’s Realm to infiltrate.

Food appears on the long tables and the Gods take their places. There are Guardians among them as well, probably servants, assistants, protectors, lovers, that kind of thing.

I turn to Crispin, who’s taken a seat next to me.

“Maybe you and the others should start some conversations with the other Guardians. They might be willing to give out some information about their Gods.”

He nods. “Good idea. I’ll let the others know. They’re all prepared, by the way. Just let them know when you think is a good time for them to leave. We should make sure that they’re seen first though, just in case there are spies.”

“Yes, definitely. Where are they?”

“Right behind you,” Storm’s deep voice says. I turn and there they are, my other three Guardians, standing behind me, their arms crossed protectively.

“Please, can you look a little less intimidating?” I ask him, although I kind of like the stern look on him. “You’re supposed to mingle with the crowds and be friendly, not look like you’re about to rip off heads.”

“I hate mingling,” Arc complains. “People cannae understand my accent.”

“Stop the excuses. Your accent is charming. Use it on the ladies.”

It hurts a little to say that. I don’t want him talking to other women. I want him all for myself. But this is politics, and important. If he can charm a female Guardian to divulge secrets about her God to him, then it’s worth the pangs of jealousy in my chest.

“What we really need to know is who is willing to support us when the worst happens. Who will stand against us. And who won’t get involved at all. Then we need to know about their forces. How strong are their armies? How strong is their magic? Will they be assets or not worth our trouble?”

They already know all that but I’m repeating it for my own sake as well. If I’m going to suffer in a dress amongst posh and dramatic Gods, then it needs to have a good reason.

“Spoken like a true monarch,” Crispin whispers approvingly. “Now eat something, you don’t want to look like you’re scheming.”

I look down at the plate that’s appeared before me. It has some of my favourite dishes on it, both from the Realm and from Earth. I’m too nervous to eat much, but I get Crispin’s reasoning. I need to pretend to enjoy this, even though I could think of a thousand places I’d rather be.

While my father is rotting in the Morrigan’s dungeon, I’m throwing a ball. How pathetic.

I nibble on a piece of Yorkshire pudding – it’s delicious – and watch the Gods and Goddesses below. Some are completely focussed on their food, shovelling it into their mouths, others are talking to each other, while others still are fondling their Guardians. I turn away in embarrassment. It’s a different world for sure.

This kind of hedonism really isn’t for me. I wish Beira was here with me to take away some of the pressure, but she’s in bed, sleeping. Crispin checked on her just before he came here and told me that there’s been no change in her condition. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.

Someone is approaching the dais, a very blond, no, very golden God. His hair is like pure shimmery gold, as is his skin, and his robes. I’ve never seen anyone so radiant. His face looks strangely chiselled, without any smooth lines at all.

When he’s reached my table, he lifts his head, showing me his amber eyes. There are golden swirls in them, beautiful and hypnotising.

“Apollo,” Crispin whispers into my ear.

My eyes widen. Finally, a God I’ve heard of. He’s as stunning as I would have expected. I think back to the Apollo statues I’ve seen on Earth. There, he usually wears a laurel crown, but not here. Yet another human invention, or does he only wear that for special occasions?

He gives me a short bow, more of a nod of his head rather than a full genuflect.

“My lady, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I get up, not wanting to have to look up to him.

“The pleasure is mine. You’re famous, even on Earth. I grew up with stories about you, so I’ll be interested to see how many of them are real.”

I was intending to flatter him, but the last sentence came out a little wrong. Like I’m doubting the stories about him. Which I am, but he doesn’t need to know that. I’m disillusioned about all the legends I heard on Earth. Only a tiny percentage of them are true, and more often than not, the Gods are the opposite of what I thought they’d be.

Apollo chuckles. “I always enjoy hearing stories about me. I have several Guardians based on Earth to supply me with the latest rumours. There aren’t as many of them now as there were two thousand years ago, of course, but they’re still rather entertaining.”

He gives me a wide smile and I decide that he might be a good person… ehm, God… to get to know.

“I’ll go mingle,” Crispin says quietly and gets up, leaving his place empty for Apollo to take.

The God doesn’t wait for me to invite him to sit down next to me. A strong scent of vanilla and elderflowers fills my nose when he takes his place. It’s an alluring smell and I instinctively lean closer to him.

“Thanks for coming,” I tell him, my mind going blank once again. “Did you have to travel far?”

He laughs as if I made the joke of the century.

“Are you seriously making small talk with the God of Poetry?”

I frown, somewhat irritated by his response.

“Poetry? I thought it was knowledge and light.”

“Yes, that too,” he says dismissively. “And music, art, archery, take your pick. I’m quite talented, in more ways than one.”

He raises an eyebrow suggestively.

And so it begins… I had hoped there wouldn’t be any flirting, but it seems these hopes were just destroyed by a God as bright as sunlight.

“That’s good to know,” I say, keeping my voice level. “Are you good in a fight as well?”

He roars with laughter. “Straight to the point, I see. Giving up on the small talk?”

I grin. “Why would I bore someone so talented with useless chatter. And if you’re really the God of knowledge, you’ll be aware of what’s at stake.”

He turns serious immediately. “I do indeed. Your Realm isn’t the only one affected. My guards caught three parties of demon spies this week alone. I’m sure more are slipping through unseen. I hear you have a theory of who is controlling the demons?”

It’s obvious that he knows already.

“It’s not a theory. We know for certain that the Morrigan is in charge of the demons. She took over their Realm, effectively enslaving them.”

“The Morrigan, eh? Do you have any proof? She’s been gone for a long time now. What reason does she have to control demons?”

I’m not quite sure what to make of Apollo. First it seemed like he understood the problem. Now he’s asking obvious questions like he’s doubting me.

“Revenge. My mother took everything from her. It seems she’s done lurking in the shadows and is out to show how powerful she still is.”

“Only Beira and Angus are more powerful than her,” Apollo says in a low voice. “If she controls the demons… you don’t have much of a chance against her.”

“Well, we’re not going to just sit here and wait for her to invade our Realm,” I reply sharply. “She may be strong, but we’re not alone. We have allies, and now that she’s started killing Gods, more are joining us every day.”

That’s a bluff, of course. The only one who’s joined us recently is Flora. The Goddess of Spring is sitting on one of the tables at the other end of the hall, animatedly talking to another Goddess who’s dressed in an elaborate green dress decorated with real flowers and vines. Some nature deity, perhaps?

“She’s killed Gods?” Apollo raises his eyebrows, visibly surprised. I guess that news hasn’t spread yet. Maybe we should make sure that everybody here knows that Fav was killed. In fact, I’ll do exactly that.

“She has indeed,” I tell him and get up, banging my fork against my wine glass to get the attention of our guests.

“I apologise for interrupting your dinner, but I realised you may not know the tragedy that has befallen one of our guests tonight. I would like to invite you all to stand and have a minute of silence for Favonius, who was brutally killed by the Morrigan just days ago. His widow, Flora, is here with us, and I’m sure you’ll all join me in declaring her my sincere condolences.”

The hall falls quiet. Shock shows on most of the guests’ faces, and some of them are beginning to whisper to each other.

“Do you have proof?” a burly God suddenly shouts, his large red beard hiding most of his face.

Flora gets up, her pale lips trembling slightly. She reaches into the tight corset hugging her delicate figure and produces a raven feather that she’s been wearing between her breasts.

“One of my messengers saw her meet with Angus,” she says shakily, but her voice steadies when she grips the feather more tightly, holding it up for all to see. “She tried to poison me, but my husband ate what was intended for me, and died. This feather was left on his chest, a clear calling sign of the Morrigan. She killed a God to stop the information from getting out. Angus is working with her, and together, they won’t stop until they rule all the Realms. The God of Summer has long been wanting to upset the balance, but you all remember what happened the last time. Winter and Summer need to be equal, or we’ll all feel the effects.” She takes a deep breath, clearly audible in the silent hall.

“The Morrigan doesn’t care about the balance. All she wants is power. Once she’s conquered this Realm, she might even challenge Angus until she rules the Winter and Summer Realms. Imagine what that would mean for all of us. Nobody would be safe.”

She raises the feather even higher. “We all need to stick together to fight her and drive her off for good. I have pledged to assist Queen Beira and her daughter. Will you do the same?”

She stands for a moment, looking around the assembled Gods. Then, with a flourish of her dress, she sits down.

Did she just do my job for me?

Before they have chance to start talking again, I shout, “A minute of silence please, for Favonius.”

With a rumble of chairs, some of the Gods get up, including the one with the red beard who challenged me earlier. He holds up his large tankard and roars, “For Favonius!”

Others join his call, before falling silent. I can’t believe this is happening. The mood has turned and it seems that Flora’s story has moved them more than I would have been able to. The Morrigan killed one of their own, and if she did that, they probably think that they could be next.

“Thank you,” I say when the minute of silence is over. “As Flora said, we need to stick together in these times of trouble. Please come and talk to me if you have questions about how we can assist each other.”

I sit down and so does everyone else. It’s quieter now than before, with people talking to each other rather than shouting across the hall.

We had planned to get the orchestra to play after dinner, but I tell Tamara to wait with that. We don’t want the Gods to stop discussing the situation. That’s what they’re here for, after all.

Not far from Flora, Storm is standing with a group of Guardians, discussing something with a lot of gestures and nods. They’re all listening to him; I guess that’s a good sign.

I search for my other Guardians. Crispin is chatting with a dark-haired Goddess who’s at least a head taller than him. She reminds me of an Amazon, with her ebony skin and her lithe figure. A warrior Goddess, perhaps?

Frost and Arc are sitting in a corner with a group of female Guardians. Figures that they’d attract the ladies. Hopefully they’ll get some information out of this, not just flirting.

“Well played,” Apollo says suddenly, his voice cheery. I almost forgot that he was sitting next to me.

“This isn’t a game,” I reply a little too harshly. Well, excuse me, my father is a prisoner, my mother ill in bed, my Guardians about to leave on a dangerous mission.

“Everything is a game,” Apollo smiles. “The Morrigan has set the board and made her first moves, now it’s our turn to play. By the end of tonight, you should know who is joining us on our side of the board.”

“Our side?” I raise my eyebrows questioningly.

“Of course. Haven’t you figured it out yet? I’m the God of Knowledge, I know a good cause when I see one.”

He gets up and gives me another bow, a real one this time.

“Send my regards to your mother. I will be ready to assist should the need arise.”

I’m too stunned to reply, but he’s already walking away, down the dais and back to where he was sitting before. He takes a seat between two Gods, both of them dressed in earthy colours, their clothes a lot simpler than most of the others. I wonder who they are. One of them has an Asian look to him, but of course there’s no Asia in the Realms.

“Well done,” Tamara says from my other side. “I’ll add him to our list of supporters. Hopefully, others will join him before the night is over.”