I sighed. “How much?”

“Not how much—what.”

I crossed my arms. His deadly halitosis made brevity a necessity. “Okay, what do you want?”

“Answer a question.”

I huffed out a breath. “I don’t have time for pop quizzes!”

“Take it or leave them behind.”

I narrowed my eyes at the ferryman of the underworld. “Fine, but this better not be a trick.”

“What is your goal?”

“That’s it? That’s the question?”

He nodded.

“If I tell you my goal, you’ll let them in?”

“No, if you answer wisely, I’ll let them in.”

I hesitated. On the surface, it was a simple question. But too much rested on the outcome of my answer to throw out a flippant response. My first instinct was to claim revenge against Cain. It’s what had driven me and brought me to this specific moment. But was that really my ultimate goal? Once Cain was dead, what did I want? Happiness seemed too trite. What was happiness anyway? I’d never heard a convincing definition. And peace sounded too much like an answer a pageant contestant would give.

“I’m waiting,” Charon prodded. His taunting tone set my teeth on edge.

“Give me a minute.”

What I really wanted was to stop struggling all the time. For as long as I could remember, I’d been at war with myself. On one side of the battlefield was my vampire side—the vicious, bloodthirsty, selfish Sabina. On the other side was her opponent, the more thoughtful, contemplative mage Sabina. Every decision I made ever since I’d opened myself up to my magical roots required debate. It was exhausting. It prevented me from fully accepting love as well as offering it. So, maybe, in the end, my ultimate goal was to find the sweet spot between those two. Maybe then I’d finally be happy.

That might be the actual answer, but would it appease Charon? Only one way to find out. Letting out a here-goes-nothing breath, I looked the ferryman right in the eye. “My ultimate goal is to find balance.”

A hush fell over the clearing. Even Cerberus seemed to hold her breath as we waited for Charon’s verdict. Finally, he said, “Interesting.”

“Interesting as in it’s the right answer or interesting as in I’m shit out of luck?”

His lips spread into a creepy smile that revealed crooked, gray teeth. “There was no right answer, Mixed-Blood. There is only your answer.”

With that cryptic remark, he disappeared. The air popped and I blinked at the empty space where he’d stood. The sound of running feet reached me and I looked up to see Adam and the others barreling across the bridge.

“Thank the gods.” Seeing those friendly faces acted like a balm on my frayed nerves.

Adam tackled me with a hard hug. “I thought—” He swallowed hard.

Behind him, I saw Nyx try to grab Tristan’s hand, but he shrugged her off. His gaze rose up, taking in the Adamantine Gate. Nyx shied away, shooting hurt glances at my father. Horus and Calyx stood behind all of them, their weapons drawn in case of attack.

Cerberus had lain back down on the ground, looking bored by the new arrivals. Sophis hooted and rose off her perch to fly back toward the portal and Hekate.

“It’s okay,” I said, raising my voice so everyone could hear. “I just had to haggle with Charon a bit to let you guys in.”

Adam blew out a breath. “What’s next?”

Tristan pulled his gaze from the towering mirrored gate. “Hekatian Fields.”

Chapter 33

Hekatian Fields looked like the land that winter forgot. Liquid, warm sunlight—or something like it since we weren’t on Earth—rained down on our faces. A long road made of smooth river stone wound down the hill and through the crater leading to mountains in the distance. Below, a lush valley spread out below us like open arms. Simple houses dotted the slopes of the surrounding hills.

The valley itself was a patchwork of color. True to its name, the mage lands had been subdivided into several fields of colorful flowers and herbs.

“There’s the meeting house.” Nyx pointed to a large building that resembled an ancient Greek temple on the far side of the valley. “The next gate is inside.”

With that, we set off down the road. As we walked, several mages came out of their homes to watch us. They wore Greek chitons, just like the ones the Hekate Council wore for ceremonies in the mortal realm. Some waved and others simply stared. But I never felt threatened. In fact, I had to keep reminding myself that these weren’t living mages at all, but their souls.

“Stay alert,” Tristan warned. “This may be friendly territory but there will still be a test.”

I nodded and adjusted my knapsack. Adam walked next to me, his posture alert and his eyes missing nothing.

The road had looked long when we’d set out, but in no time, we’d reached the temple. The road branched off to the left and we followed it.

A hundred steps rose to the entrance. I looked up and saw two figures standing at the top—one female and one male. I gasped as I recognized the guy.

I took off running before anyone could stop me. Adam didn’t even try. He’d seen Orpheus, too, and was keeping up with me. But Tristan, who’d been Orpheus’s best friend, held back and called out for us to be careful.

By the time we reached the top, we were both panting for breath. We stopped three steps below where Orpheus and the female stood. Actually, now that we were closer, I realized Orpheus stood several feet behind the chick. And when we reached them, he wouldn’t look at us.

“Orpheus!” Adam called. “Ameritat!”

I froze. My gaze moved back to the female—my paternal grandmother. She had long black hair that stood in startling contrast to the deep blue of her eyes. Now that I looked at her more closely, I realized I should have known she was my father’s mother from the instant I saw her. In addition to inheriting her coloring, he’d also gotten his omnipresent frown from her.

But Ameritat’s eyes weren’t on me. Instead, she stared intently at something behind me. I glanced back and saw Tristan frozen on the steps.

“You have some explaining to do,” she said. Her tone was icy and hard. Hardly the warm mother–son reunion one might have imagined.

Tristan trudged the rest of the way up the steps. “I know,” he said. “But there’s no time.”

She crossed her arms. “Oh, yes, your fool’s errand.”

“Hey!” I said.

It’s one thing to observe those blue eyes when they’re not looking at you, but something else altogether to receive the full force of them after you’ve mouthed off their owner. I instantly regretted my tone. She was my grandmother, after all. But given my somewhat jaded past with my other grandparent, well, I couldn’t help myself.

Speaking of family reunions, I looked around, bracing myself to see my sister exit the shadows. When I realized Orpheus and Ameritat were alone, I asked, “Wait. Where’s my sister?”

“Hello, Sabina.” A reproach weighed down the greeting. Clearly my blurted question had been out of line.

“Hi.” I waved lamely. “Maisie?” I prompted.

Ameritat grimaced. “She is not in this realm.”

Adam frowned and stepped forward. “What do you mean? Where did she go?”

My grandmother shook her head. “I do not know where exactly, but I know her soul passed into Irkalla.”

Adam and I exchanged tense looks. Part of me was disappointed and worried not to find my twin’s spirit resting peacefully among her kin in Hekatian Fields. But the other part, the selfish part, was relieved not to have to face her and my own guilt when so many other immediate challenges demanded my attention. I swallowed my conflicting emotions and focused on the situation at hand.

“Anyway, what did you mean about the fool’s errand?”

“I meant exactly what I said. Turn back now and leave this place before you get yourself and everyone else killed.”

I raised my chin. “Pardon me, but that’s bullshit.”

Her eyes widened. “I suppose I should expect such churlish manners from one raised by the Dominae.”

My hands hit my hips. “Considering you’re the one who agreed to that arrangement, you have no one to blame but yourself.”

“Sabina,” Tristan said in a warning tone. “Enough.” He moved up to the same step Adam and I stood on and faced his mother. “If you know why we’re here, then you also know why I didn’t come to you when you were still alive.”

She dipped her chin. “I do. But that doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re leading your own child to her death.”

My stomach dipped. Normally, I’d just write off her dire prediction as a case of the Chicken Littles. But Ameritat, when she was alive, had been the Hekatian Oracle. Predictions were kind of her thing. “Are you saying that you’ve seen my death?”

She looked me in the eye. “Yes.”

Adam shifted uneasily next to me. “You have seen the possibility of her death,” he said. “We all know prophecy is not a guarantee.”

“Lazarus,” she said. I’d forgotten Adam had known my grandmother when she was alive. “I am glad to see you have grown into such a strong man. But you allow your love for my granddaughter to make you blind.”

Adam’s jaw hardened. “Orpheus?”

During our conversation, the former leader of the mage race had kept his eyes downcast. But when Adam called to him, he looked up. The pain in his gaze made my chest contract. “Listen to her,” he said. “There has been enough bloodshed.”

I threw up my hands. “Excuse me, but you seem to be forgetting that as long as Cain is alive, blood will always be shed.”

“There has to be another way,” Orpheus said, stepping forward. “Magic—”

“Failed,” Tristan snapped. “We tried magic and it failed. You know that.”