Page 44 of The Ruin of Gods


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I give a nod of thanks and after a nice five-minute walk, I’m standing outside a small stone house with a rough wooden door and cloth covering the windows.

I’m poised to knock when I hear someone walk up behind me. I turn and see a man of indeterminate years (since fae are immortal) who appears in his thirties, as most do. He’s got vivid red hair, cropped short, a trim beard, and electric-blue eyes.

In his hand are three dead rabbits tied to a wire.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come,” he says as he moves past me and around to the side of his house.

Not surprising. He sees the future. I follow him to a long table with two stools. He tosses the animals on the surface and pulls out a knife.

“Sit,” he says, nodding toward a stool. “We can talk while I dress my dinner.”

I was created mostly to fight wars for the gods, so blood and gore have been a part of my life for thousands of years. But while I can cut off a man’s head without a second thought, cutting an animal isn’t my thing.

“I’ll stand,” I say, leaning against the house. “So, you know why I’m here?”

“No,” the man says. “Only that a demigod would visit. You’re Maddox. And I’m Faush.”

“How is it you know I was coming and my name, but you don’t know why? Are you shortsighted?”

Faush chuckles as he unstrings. “I’m not shortsighted at all and see as well as I ever have. I just chose not to look into the why of your visit. I like a little surprise and mystery. However, if you’re here about the tears in the veil and the recent murders, I’m afraid I don’t have any clear visions.”

I frown. “That implies you have murky visions? Deandra said you had nothing of value.”

“I only answer the questions posed to me. I was asked who was opening the veil. I couldn’t give an answer. I was never asked why.”

“Fucking unbelievable,” I mutter. My own personal questions are going to have to wait. “I’m not going to ask specific questions to start. Just tell me all that might be related to the tears in the veil, no matter how trivial you think it might be or how cloudy. Even impressions are helpful.”

Faush smiles, respect in his gaze that someone understands that his gift is often clouded in nothing more than feelings.

He starts skinning the rabbits one by one. “There is no motive to hurt Faere. There is a bigger purpose to the tears.”

“Distraction,” I guess. That was my first hunch.

His nod is hesitant. “It feels that way. It also feels… catastrophic. Like, whatever is happening will change everything.”

“So, it goes beyond the Underworld?”

“Perhaps. Or maybe whatever will happen in the Underworld will send shock waves to other dimensions. But the thing I dream about the most is someone rising, someone of great importance, and that creature will have more power than all the gods.”

“Impossible.” I push off the wall, stunned by that revelation. No one is more powerful than the gods.

Faush shakes his head as if flummoxed, hands covered in blood. “I’ve tried to see who it is. I’ve tried to see how it happens, and all I get is that time is of the essence.”

“Time is of the essence? What does that mean?”

“It can mean many things. It’s not for me to decipher, only to give you the clues.”

“What else?” I demand, my mind whirring. Are we on the verge of something happening right now? Do I need to leave?

Is Zora safe?

I hate that she is one of my main concerns, but there you have it.

“Nothing else,” he says as he lines up the three skinned rabbits and moves to gut them. “At least not regarding the tears in the veil. But I know you have other questions. Questions that are more important.”

I nod and move closer to the table. “My brother, Lucien—”

“A demigod thrown into the Crimson River,” he says, letting me know he doesn’t need the background.

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