Page 41 of The Unseen Hour

For all I knew, he could.

“You barely know me,” I countered once I saw that we weren’t being followed.

The blue in his eyes blazed.

“I know enough. I just mean … I haven’t had anyone real in my life for quite some time. I don’t want the first person I get close to put in any more danger than absolutely necessary.”

For a fleeting moment I thought the look on his face was one of longing. It certainly mirrored the expression that men wore at balls when they were gazing at women I knew they wished to be with. The sky was transiting from orange and purple back to green and blue. I put it up to a trick of the light.

“Why look out for me? You’re close to Charon; you’ve admitted as much. Why work against him for the sake of some woman you’ve just met?”

“I might be close to him, but I have just as much reason to despise him as any victim of the hour.”

It made sense, and yet …

“You could still work against him without me, though. You don’t owe me anything. Wouldn’t this just be dangerous for you?”

With every word I uttered, Orion looked tenser. His jaw twitched, and he began to pace.

“I have to help you. You’re the only one I can save. All the others who made it here like us are dead.” Orion clenched his fists. His voice was anguished, and the wild look in his deep grey eyes told me he was haunted by whatever he remembered.

The problem was, he’d previously told me that, as far as he knew, we were the living Shades.

I was trapped in the Ether with a liar.

CHAPTER 20

Orion had sworn I was the only other being in the Ether who wasn’t a real Shade, but he’d just admitted there had been others. I planted my feet, praying to both gods that I’d misunderstood.

“What do you mean dead? I’m the only other one like you who’s appeared, right?”

“That’s not exactly what I said.”

“Bloody ghosts,” I muttered, squeezing my hands into fists, “It might not have been what you said, but now I’d like to know what you meant.”

It was too important a distinction to leave to chance or miscommunication.

If he actually was helping Charon to somehow harm others like me … I’d run. I’d hide and find a way to fend for myself. But I sincerely hoped it didn’t come to that. I was quickly becoming accustomed to company, and to the freedom that came along with the Ether and the absence of Emrys’s rules. Spending all my time merely trying to survive against a god and a man with a hundred years’ experience in this realm was not something I wanted to attempt.

And, I had to admit, being around Orion was nice.

“You’re right, Celia.” His use of my actual name made me look back up at him. “I was … dishonest. Not intentionally. I shouldn’t have said you’re the only one. I mean, you are currently. I’ve never spoken to another, because I was always too late before meeting you. But I’ve seen a few others like us. Not dead, but Taken and in the Ether regardless. I would have helped them, too, but Charon got to them all first.”

He shuddered, and I hung on his words.

“And what did he do when he discovered them?”

“Obliterated them. Smote them into nothing but ash that floated away into the air. I don’t even know if dead is the right term for them. Charon despises Death, and he is loath to relinquish anyone to her clutches. I imagine he simply erased the souls off the face of Rayus, or the Ether. Simply gone.”

My breath came in shallow bursts. It was enough to shatter even the most devout believer’s view of the gods, and I was far from exemplary when it came to religious devotion. If Death was real, shouldn’t she be doing something? Shouldn’t Day? Because if she existed, and Charon existed, surely he did as well?

It didn’t matter, though. At least not as much as the very real scenario staring me in the face and breaking my heart. Tears pricked at my eyes.

“Then he could already be gone. It could be that my father was here and eliminated as well. Did you get a good look at any of them?”

I clutched at his shirt, tugging on him and then leaning into him for support when my knees threatened to give out. He wrapped one arm behind me, and it was the only thing keeping me upright.

I’d come all this way. I’d been so convinced …