“Inalia…” Eira said.

“I will not be able to do this again,” Inalia replied, her voice deep as it echoed across the charred gardens. “My brothers might choose to punish me for my decision. But I don’t care. I’ve seen the truth now, and it isn’t pretty.”

“The truth?” I asked.

“What they’re planning to do,” Inalia said. “You can’t be here anymore, Tae. You must go. As soon as you leave, all the horrors will stop for Cerix. The Shills will be gone. And other Hermessi will be tasked with finding and destroying you. If you’re out of my brothers’ reach, you can still do something.”

“What about you?” Lumi replied. “Won’t they punish you?”

“Maybe. I’ll try and beg for forgiveness, see how that works. Acquis will surely put in a good word for me. Which is why, like I said, I won’t be able to do more than I already have.” Inalia sighed and looked at Eira. “You have to go with them.”

“Huh? What? No! Why?” Eira protested. I understood why she’d be reluctant to leave her home planet, but I also knew why Inalia was worried about her, even after she’d ascended as a Hermessi.

“You are precious here. If you’re gone, Acquis will have a better shot at surviving,” Inalia explained. “If you stay here, the others will use you as leverage against him. It’s only a matter of time before Leb and Sebbi discover he’s a rebel. Trust me, you are safer with Tae than you ever will be on Cerix.”

“I’m… I’m not sure I can leave you,” Eira murmured.

“They will need a Hermessi child by their side for what comes next,” Inalia said, then came closer, stopping right in front of me. My chest swelled, unable to contain the mixture of grief and relief bursting through me. It was still her. Our Inalia. She hadn’t turned against us. On the contrary, she’d taken quite a risk to help us. “Tae… My inner fire was filled with so much knowledge… I didn’t even realize it until I became… it. So many things that weren’t said, not even by my father… I may not see you again, but I want you to know that meeting you, meeting all of you, has changed me forever.”

“Us, too,” I said. “I certainly won’t ever forget you.”

“I should hope not,” Inalia replied, her tone more concentrated and even, tinted with a hint of playfulness. “I know things now. Not as much as I’d like, but enough to leave you with a valuable parting gift. The pink water that spawned the Shills… It’s on every planet, not just here.”

“We’re aware,” Eva said. “There’s a pond in Mount Agrith we know of, on Calliope.”

“That’s good.” Inalia nodded slowly. “You can make yourselves unseen by the Hermessi. Not physically invisible, but more like… untraceable by them. Their creations will still be able to catch your scent if they’re close by, though, so don’t take it for granted.”

“How can we make ourselves unseen?” I asked, hope unfurling inside me. We needed the edge against the elements so badly.

“Devil’s Weed grows around the pink waters, or just beneath their surface,” Inalia explained. “Its leaves are small and round; you cannot miss it. It’s the only plant that lives in contact with it. One sprig dipped in pink water. Each of you must carry it on your person, at all times. As much as they hate this little loophole, there is nothing the Hermessi can do about it.”

If we concealed our presence from the Hermessi with this Devil’s Weed, we could move with greater ease. If the Hermessi couldn’t find us across the In-Between, we would even have the opportunity to explore the pink waters some more, reach out to the rebels, maybe even find whatever caused the first ritual’s interruption. The possibilities worked in our favor.

“Thank you,” I said to her.

“Do you know about the Daughters of Eritopia, then?” Lumi asked.

“I do. I’ve met with their maker for a brief moment. Like I said, I know a lot more now. It’s like everything Brann knew, even his secrets, was passed down to me when he died. And the Daughters… Their maker is the reason why they haven’t been summoned to assist the Hermessi,” Inalia replied. “You see, a Hermessi can only control what he or she makes out of the pink waters. The Daughters cannot be subdued or summoned by others without Calliope’s Earth Hermessi’s approval.”

“I was told the Daughters’ existence was a secret,” Lumi said.

“Not so much. But their maker is very powerful. So far, he hasn’t given the others reason for doubt. He plays his cards well and safe. Better than Brann ever did, for sure. I would advise you to stay away from the Daughters, if you can. You never know when their maker might change his mind. The Hermessi do not have a sense of morality. The rebels show empathy toward their creation, sure, but even that has its limits. Some of them have turned back to working for the ritual lately, out of fear. Brann served as a troubling example, I’m afraid.”

The winds rose in the distance. Clouds gathered and stretched across the sky. Distant thunder traveled across the city of Silvergate. Lightning smacked the torch of one of the giant silver guardian statues, releasing a shower of sparks. Inalia looked up. “They’re coming.”

“I’m done with the spell,” Lumi replied, chalk in her hand.

Indeed, the symbols had been drawn. The herbs and crystals had been positioned. All Lumi had to do was whisper the chant needed to activate the light bubble that would take us away.

We took our spots inside the chalk drawing. Eira joined us, shaking like a leaf. I took her hand in mine and squeezed it tight, in a bid to reassure her that everything would be okay. Eira was leaving everything behind now—not just to help us, but also to keep Acquis motivated to play his part. The fear of dying without an heir seemed to have an impact on the Hermessi, too. If there was no one to replace him, Acquis had more reason to stay put and maybe even help Inalia—provided he could without getting himself into trouble.

Half of Cerix was against the ritual now. The other half wasn’t. There was a shift in the balance of power, which I understood. Two against two made it harder for any of the Hermessi to be destroyed. In Brann’s case, it had been three against one, but Acquis had moved more to the rebel side since. Chances were this planet would survive, at least until the ritual was completed—our purpose was still to stop it altogether.

As Lumi voiced the chant for the interplanetary spell, I gave Inalia one last smile. The ground shuddered beneath us. They were getting closer, and they were probably pissed off.

“Be careful here, Inalia,” I said to her.

“You too,” she replied, then paused for a moment, her fire figure burning brighter. “Tae… there’s something else you need to be aware of. About what stopped the first ritual, four million years ago.”

My stomach dropped. “You know who did it?”

That got all our attention. Screw the angry winds. Forget about the earthquakes. Never mind the incoming storm!

“Before he died, Brann heard Leb and Sebbi talking,” Inalia said. “I told you, I inherited everything from my father, even his dying memories. They probably didn’t think he could still hear them, reduced to a withering little flicker. It’s Death.”

I blinked several times. Lumi was done. The light bubble stretched around us—a perfect sphere of impenetrable magic.

“Death?” I asked.

“Yes, Death,” Inalia replied. “It’s real. It exists. Leb and Sebbi mentioned it. They said they were thankful she was still out of the game. ‘The sacrifices our brothers made were worth it,’ I remember Leb saying. Something happened. To the Hermessi who died—those who hadn’t been born as a Hermessi child first but who’d somehow come to be when their predecessors perished. To the ritual and even to Death. I don’t know what, but I know, for a fact, that it was Death. The cosmic event we’ve all heard about before. It did something—it broke something, I think, that stopped the ritual. And Death caused it.”

“Then what could they have meant by ‘she’s still out of the game’?” I mumbled, my head suddenly crowded with a thousand more questions.

“That’s for you to find out, Tae.”

The light bubble lifted us off the ground. The weather had turned increasingly violent. A raging storm tore through Silvergate, making its massive guardians wobble. Trees broke. Shingles were torn from the roofs. The eye of the storm moved toward us.

“Wait! Inalia, what about the pink waters?” Amelia shouted at her. “Are they a portal to the gods, as the books in the library described them?!”

Inalia’s fire figure swelled, in anticipation of a violent clash with the other Hermessi. Fear crippled me. I worried they might still try to destroy her for helping us. How sure were we that Acquis was truly on our side and was brave enough to stand up to Leb and Sebbi, so they wouldn’t be able to take her out?

“Dive in and find out!” Inalia shot back.

The palace gardens shrank beneath us. Tornadoes hopped and gathered inside it. Chunks of stone and dirt were cast aside as the storm grew in size, eager to catch up with us. The spell bubble was fast, though. They missed us.

I breathed the heaviest sigh of relief, then sat down on the glowing bottom. All the tension that had gathered inside me was suddenly gone. Glancing around, everyone else was equally spent. They all sat down, practically collapsing from exhaustion.

Eira sobbed next to me as we pierced through Cerix’s atmosphere and left her world behind. If Inalia was right, then all troubles would end for the Cerixians—unless the Hermessi completed their ritual. That was still a few steps away, and we desperately needed a small breathing moment. I put an arm around her and held her close. I felt sorry for her. She’d been through so much as well.

Heck, she knew Inalia better than I ever would. If I felt so bad about losing her, I could only imagine how Eira truly felt.

“Death,” Amelia repeated, leaning into Raphael.

“Didn’t see that coming,” he replied, vaguely smiling when her head rested on his shoulder.

“Death is real…” Herakles mumbled.

“I thought that was indisputable,” Lumi said.

Riza chuckled. “He means as an actual entity, not the process itself.”

Glancing below, Cerix became smaller. A blue marble with streaks of white. No more Shills. No more cultists… at least for a while. Greater trouble still lay ahead. And our mission had just become infinitely more complicated.

“How does one find and reach out to Death?” I asked, knowing that none of my crew had an answer.