Page 142 of The Unseen Hour

Death snapped her fingers again, and Day and Grim disappeared, Charon in tow.

“I had your word, Death, don’t forget,” Odos growled. Bellamy continued to clutch at the large, muscular god, looking even smaller by his side. But I saw that Bellamy had always been a small man.

Orion spun to face me as Death spoke to the remaining god.

“Starlight, I think, with him gone … Yes. I can. I can say it. You need to know something. What I couldn’t tell you before, in the Ether. Another reason I thought I couldn’t stay here. Charon isn’t just the god of the Ether. I mean, he is, but he’s also my ancestor. He said I was tied to the place. To the Ether, because of him. That I couldn’t leave, and even if Death bested him, I’d have to stay. The Ether needs a god. All the deities have someone, Celia. A descendant, one per generation. It’s another fail-safe. Another way to spread out their power. Just like the churches, and the items like the scythes and the music.”

“You. Charon. You’re his … then there’s five more descendants? Who?”

“Oh, little Shade, now you’ve gone and spoiled the secret,” Death trilled.

She turned to face us, and I gasped, taking several large steps back from her.

“It’s not possible.” A trick. Dark magic, just like the Unseen Hour. That was the only explanation. Death was mocking me.

In front of me was the same deity I’d seen before, but without the mask hiding her eyes and half of her face. Death had paler skin and hair, but those were the only things separating her features from my own. Without the mask covering her, I saw that our cheekbones were the same. As was our eye shape. But that wasn’t the convincing piece. Death’s eyes were not black pools of despair, as I might have assumed. They were vibrant, shimmering, and undeniably pink.

Death looked like an avenging angel, a harsh woman bent on war, and capable of winning it. She looked like she had real power.

“You … “

Death nodded.

“Yes, you’re beginning to understand now. I told you we didn’t always have the power we now possess. There was a time, after acquiring our abilities, that we tried to live among other people. A disastrous experiment. People do not like being reminded of power they don’t have, and circumstances like Death which they cannot hope to change. But we also learned through their attacks that we might be vulnerable. One day, surely, they would find a way to get rid of us. And with that, bring destruction to themselves.”

“What did you do?”

“We left descendants. Each of us, a line, to keep our ties to this world before creating and retreating to our own realms. Individuals we could call on, or utilize if the situation arose. I had always thought it would be us, the gods and our descendants, against an uprising of citizens who wanted the power we possess. Instead, we’ve ended up fighting one another.”

My mind was spinning like the gears in a clock, ticking away and driving me mad as the pieces clicked into place.

“That’s why you wanted to help Orion. You realized Charon hadn’t told him initially, and you thought you could gain another victory by having him on your side. Then, when I showed up, you were happy because … “

“Because I had Charon’s descendant and my own, stuck in the Ether and only too eager to help me, yes. I needed you. You see, we have certain rules with each other, certain boundaries we don’t cross, as Charon was trying to do. And we have certain protections afforded to our descendants. You’re vulnerable, but not nearly as much as a typical human. And you have enough of our power that you can do things, like handle our artifacts.”

“The baton? The music?”

Death nodded, looking pleased.

“Precisely. Orion can hold the baton, and conduct the Shades. Not because he was in the Ether, but because he has Charon’s blood. And you, Celia, are capable of even greater things, because you are my descendant. Orion was right: one descendant per generation. I know you’ve worried about your lack of power compared to your brothers. They have more social influence than you. Well, how does it feel to know that you could have the power of a goddess?”

“I wanted to be allowed to wear trousers, ride my horse, and choose my own husband. Not fight with gods!” I yelled, far too overwhelmed to censor myself. “Bloody ghosts!”

Descended from gods of death. Both of us. And deities on separate sides of a potential war. Charon had told Death that this wasn’t over. The gears in my head ground to a stop, and whatever powered my heart protested, pain shooting through me that was so real I clutched my chest.

“What happens now?”

Death tilted her head, and it was eerie seeing eyes so like my own observing me in such a way.

“Now? Charon will be imprisoned. Just like Epiphany, the only other deity to ever attempt a stunt like this. We’ll stick him in what you all call the ‘lost country’ for a few centuries, until we forget him or he learns some manners. And until then, the Ether needs a god. There are no more Shades, of course, but someone has to do Charon’s job. Balance of nature and all that.”

“No. He’s not going back!” I threw my arms out, shielding Orion as if I could fight her off. “And we can’t help you, anyway! We aren’t deities.”

Death scowled.

“Haven’t you been listening? You haven’t mastered our abilities, but you have so much potential. You could learn. Just because you haven’t yet done something doesn’t mean you can’t. I’m sure you’ve figured that out.”

Did that mean? Orion’s connection to the Ether. His ability to get into Charon’s home with me. The way he influenced the Shades.