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Thunder shook the sky and Brooks stirred, mumbling something in her sleep. Mat tucked Pacific’s pale hair behind her ear, looking at her all goo-goo-eyed. They were an item? Maybe that’s what happens when you live together for centuries.

“The gods are looking for a fight,” Mat said, turning his gaze back to me. “We’re choosing sides, getting ready for war.”

“But I thought you said you were at a football game.”

“You have a lot to learn, Zane Obispo. Gods can be in more than one place at a time. But what matters is that war is coming.”

I started to pace. “What if I can defeat Ah-Puch? Will there still be a war?”

“Trust has already been shattered,” Pacific said. “And no one wants to admit to breaking the Sacred Oath.”

“Why doesn’t Hurakan just tell them it was him?” I said. “Maybe he could ask for forgiveness.”

Mat shook his head. “Gods don’t forgive.”

I was starting to wonder if I wanted to be related to a bunch of crazed, coldhearted killers. “When will this war start?”

“You have to move quickly,” Pacific said. “Get to Ah-Puch first, because if you don’t—”

“We will.” Mat’s jaw tensed.

And I’d become a soldier of death, because I hadn’t gotten the job done myself. “Hey, Mat?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“If, as a godborn, I could have chosen not to release Ah-Puch, why didn’t my dad tell me that? None of this had to happen.” Anger pulsed through my veins. Rosie wouldn’t have had to die. Brooks wouldn’t have lost her powers. I wouldn’t have had to make the deal of death with Pukeface.

Pacific stepped closer. “Yes, a godborn can ignore the magic, but only when he has come into his full power. And you haven’t done that yet. So telling you wouldn’t have made a difference.”

Full power?

Mat folded his arms over his chest. “You don’t become a god automatically, with the snap of a finger, or because of your bloodline. Godhood has to be earned. Fought for. Your power arrives gradually, and when…” His sentence trailed off.

“When what?”

Pacific shot him a glare then turned to me. “We can’t say any more. Consider this your head start.” She smiled at me softly. I knew that dumb look. Teachers and school nurses and strangers at the grocery store had given it to me plenty: Poor kid.

“We’re doing this as a favor to your dad,” Mat said. “But remember, Ah-Puch has powerful allies, too.”

“Yeah, like the Yant’o Triad,” I said. “Those guys are creepy.”

“You met them?” Mat pulled off his cap. Dark curls fell over his eyes.

I told him and Pacific how the twins had been captured. I lifted my wrist and said, “He’s tracking me.”

Mat’s eyes zeroed in on the skull tattoo with moving eyelids. “He’s so uninventive. But not to worry, Zane. He’s busy trying to figure out his enemies’ next moves right now. He won’t come for you until it’s time.”

Oh, well, that made me feel better. Not!

“What’s so important about the Old World anyway?” I asked.

Mat and Pacific shared a glance, then Pacific whispered, “It’s the only place where you have a chance of defeating Ah-Puch.”

“What? How?” My heart drummed loudly. “How do I beat a really angry god, especially without my own godly powers?”

Mat inched back and looked down at the frozen ocean. “Water takes many forms. It becomes what it needs to become. You, Zane Obispo, must become… what you were meant to become. The Old World is the only place you can do that.”

Why did people always give me vague responses? Why couldn’t anyone just provide a straight answer, preferably with a step-by-step diagram? “You mean become the Storm Runner.”

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