Page 49 of Palingenesis

They’re disgustingly adorable.

I sigh and settle in next to him. “Okay, Sammy, what’dya got?”

He snickers and flips me a middle finger before turning the laptop between us. “He’s the smarter of the two, so I’ll take it. I have two guesses?” His voice inflects like it’s a question and I raise a brow. “Either a tulpa—which would be hella hard to take down without somehow convincing the whole town of the same thing—or a version of a Bennu.”

“What? No.” A deity from Egyptian times? There’s no way. Every time I’ve seen him, he appears… I don’t know. Human? Normal? Modern?

My face must convey skepticism because Avery leans into his explanation. “I said a version of them, as in something similar. If legend says that he’s the reason for all these events over the years, imagine what things he did that we don’t know about.”

Gods, this conversation is making my head hurt as much as the hearing aids.

“So you’re saying he’s a… myth. But real. Like fucking vampires or shifters.”

Avery gaze flicks to Morgan for a beat before coming back to mine. “Something like that.”

Groaning, I slump back into the cushions and lift my glasses to rub my eyes.

Even if I did believe it’s real and not some figment of my overactive imagination—that this whole scene isn’t just some show I’m putting on in my head—what’s the worst thing that can happen if I lean into it? I look like a fool?

I already climbed that statue and spit on it.

But if Morgan and Avery are really here, and really believe this shit …

“Then how the fuck do I get rid of it?”

“That’s the spirit,” Avery coos, leaning back into the couch to curl his legs under him and balance his laptop on his thighs. “Do you have anything made of iron?”

I look at him slowly, blinking. “Iron?”

“No? Okay, then I guess we’re setting a really big fucking fire.”

Chapter 27

Shannon

Fire. Ice. Iron.

There’s a whole list of things that Avery managed to find that might weaken what he believes is a god from the era of pyramids and pharaohs, but I got a glimpse of this screen a few too many times.

I don’t really want to hurt the thing. I just want to be left alone.

It’s the only justification for why it’s the dead of night, and I—the jackass that I am—am walking into the forest.

Alone.

Nothing but my backpack and a flashlight accompanying me into the deep darkness.

Morgan and Avery demanded that I rest when they left to gather supplies because who the fuck has hot heat and anything made of iron sitting around the house anymore, but the second they were out of sight, I started scheming.

Besides, some fresh air and shit might do me some good.

Hiking up the trail I found online, surrounded by the wilderness, I find myself slowing my pace. There’s bushes of flowers growing between the trunks of trees, filling in the space with crawling towers of deep colors among the green-spiked leaves.

They seem… familiar.

And the deeper I go into the woods, the thicker they become. It seems illogical because the canopy of trees grows denser as well, blocking out the moonlight that seems to still shimmer off their petals. The blooms are dark, maybe a deep purple, and I can’t help but redirect the beam of my flashlight in a way that keeps them visible.

The air is chilled and carries with it the damp earthy scent that clings to my skin. It reminds me of the drive I took to get here, the summer months completely missed, and I force a breath.