He wasn’t the only one who snapped. “To get away from you!” she cried. “To get away from all of this—but especially you.”

Justin stood there frozen, as immobile as if he’d been knocked to the ground. “I see,” he said finally. “So, I guess that part about how nothing was going to change how you feel about me was kind of an exaggeration.”

“No,” she said, fists clenched at her sides. “It wasn’t. And neither was the part about you being infuriating. But there’s no way I’m going to let you do something stupid because of me. I won’t let you commit yourself to that god—”

“That’s my choice,” he interrupted.

“Not if it’s contingent on being involved with me,” she shot back.

“I won’t let you do that. I’m pulling myself out of the equation. I’m freeing you from that god, and I’m freeing myself too. I’m done with this game, with godly affairs. I shouldn’t have dabbled in the first place.

If I had, then last night—” Mae faltered and then found her resolve again. “Well, last night might not have happened.”

She looked so strong and beautiful out there, his Valkyrie in black, but the waver in her voice pierced his heart and told him the truth. Last night’s attack had had colossal effects. But how could it not have?

Sexual assault wasn’t something one easily recovered from under so-called normal circumstances. Muddling it all up with this supernatural war . . . well, it was no wonder she wanted to leave.

“Do you think it won’t follow you to the battlefield?” he asked.

“Do you think the gods won’t follow you there?”

“I’m sure they have better places to be,” she said.

“They followed us to Arcadia, Mae! They’re everywhere. They’ll go wherever you go. There’s no escaping what we’re involved in.”

Her face hardened. “I can’t believe that. I refuse to give in to them, and you should too. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll resign from your job and . . . I don’t know. Go back to teaching. Go back to anything, anything that’s not this.”

“This is what I’ve got, and I’m willing to face it on my terms, to serve him if it means having you in my life to—”

“No,” she exclaimed. He’d started to reach for her, and she pulled back. “No. Don’t. Please. Not for me.”

“Mae, I know what happened last night was hard—”

Her eyes widened. “Hard? Hard? You have no idea! No idea what it feels like to live with the aftermath of something like that—”

“Then let me help you!” he cried. “Let me help you heal from this, not some dangerous decision that you made on a moment’s notice.

Together we’ll find out who did it—”

“Justin.” Her voice was low again, though the emotion written on her face showed how upset she still was. “This decision is made. I’m leaving.”

Look at her, said Magnus, speaking up at last. You say you know her so well, so look at her. She’s telling the truth. She’s leaving, and you can’t stop her. Your best bet at salvaging this situation is telling her you understand and that you support her and that you’ll be here waiting for her. If you have any sense left at all, you might even tell her you love her.

If she had any sense, Justin informed the raven, she wouldn’t leave me.

And with those words, Justin had enough self-awareness to realize that was a huge part of the problem here: she was leaving him. Oh, there was no question he was upset about the rest. He was upset that she was leaving without properly letting herself recover, that she was leaving without any further effort at finding her assailant. And, yes, he was absolutely upset at her willingly walking into another life-threatening situation. Waiting for her while she’d escaped Arcadia had been hard enough. He couldn’t imagine another stretch of endless days, not knowing if she was dead or alive.

But it was that personal sting, that after a life of women who’d meant nothing, he’d found one who meant everything—and she was leaving him. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t leaving him personally, exactly. This was the result of forces beyond their control, but the result was the same. She would be gone, and he would be back to being surrounded by others who made him feel alone. It hurt in a way he wasn’t prepared for, and he knew lashing out at her was a selfish reaction to that pain. He knew also that Magnus and even Cynthia were right: if Mae was leaving, then he needed to part on the best terms possible.

But that pain and the inability to deal with it were too great, and he found himself blurting out, “This is a mistake. You’re making a mistake.”

Her face started to fall, but she quickly recovered and took on her ice princess persona. Too late, it occurred to him that maybe she was hurting too and that she was waiting for him to say all those things he should’ve said.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” she said coldly. “Here. I’ve got a couple of parting gifts for you.” She produced the amber knife from her boot and handed it to him. “Give this to Geraki.”

Justin took it more from surprise than anything else. “Geraki?”

“He’s the one who sent it. Tell him I have no use for gods who can’t promise what they deliver.” From her belt, she produced a golden neck torc with dragons on the ends. “This is for you . . . or whatever you want to do with it.”

Justin took it in confusion. “What is it?”

“The eagle staff,” she said. “Or it was. When I touched it, it transformed into this.”

He was still upset, still heartbroken . . . but those words made his jaw drop. “When did you get this?”

“I made a side trip after rescuing the girls. The staff changed shape when I touched it.” She spoke casually, like robbing a country’s religious leader really had been just a side trip.

“You . . . you touched it?” Justin remembered the ravens saying only the strongest of faith could do so. “And . . . it changed shape?”

“That’s what I just said,” she snapped. A hired car slowed down in front of the house, and Mae turned toward it. “That’s for me. I’ll see you around.”

“Mae . . .”

Justin wanted to say more but found the words stuck on his tongue. Lucian had claimed Justin could talk anyone into anything, but he was at a loss here. He didn’t even know if he had the power to get her to forgive him. She disappeared into the car, and he stood there forlornly on the wet lawn, knife in one hand and torc in the other, watching until she vanished down the street. When he could finally muster the initiative to move, it was to look down and examine the knife.

Before you ask, said Horatio. No, we didn’t know Geraki gave it to her.

Is it Freya’s? asked Justin, thinking back to the revelation that had begun to emerge in Arcadia.

Magnus answered. Most likely. Geraki wouldn’t have given it if it wasn’t on the behest of an ally, and the fact that the torc didn’t change shape when you touched it means it’s sacred to the same pantheon you serve. Freya best fits the description of the goddess Mae has been working with.

Was working with, corrected Justin. She’s done with that now.

Mae’s words replayed through his mind as he slowly walked back into the house: I refuse to give in to them, and you should too. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll resign from your job and . . . I don’t know. Go back to teaching. Go back to anything, anything that’s not this.

Maybe she was right. A surge of anger welled up in him, anger for the hurt he was feeling and at the role the gods were playing in messing up their lives. But was it entirely the gods’ fault? Really, when Justin looked at it, things had fallen apart because of one person, the man who’d worn his face to take advantage of Mae. Thinking about that, it became easier and easier for Justin to channel the pain of Mae’s loss into hatred and revenge for the mysterious assailant.

He ignored Cynthia’s attempts at conversation and stormed to his room, slamming the door behind him. Okay, he told the ravens. Get your master on the line. If he wants me, he can have me. Mae’s pulled herself out as a bargaining chip, but it doesn’t matter. I want to find who did this to her. If Odin can help me do that, I’ll swear my undying loyalty to him and act as his priest.

The declaration lifted a huge weight from Justin’s shoulders, and he expected any number of reactions from the ravens. Joy. Disbelief.

Smugness. What he got instead was almost a sense of . . . discomfort.

Ah. That won’t be necessary, said Magnus.

We’ve, um, been meaning to talk to you about this, but things got so hectic last night that we figured we should wait to tell you, added Horatio.

Justin sat down on the bed, wishing this form of communication

gave him the ability to look his advisors straight in the eye because he definitely needed some context.

Tell me what?

There were a few moments of silence, as though each raven were daring the other to speak.

It’s done, said Magnus at last. You are bound to our god. You fulfilled the terms of the deal already.

What are you on? demanded Justin. I did no such thing! I know that deal word for word. I have to take Mae to my bed and claim her before swearing to Odin, and in case you haven’t been paying attention to my screwed-up love life, I’ve gone out of my way to avoid that scenario.

And yet, said Magnus, you enacted it last night.

Justin was indignant. Really? Did you see something I missed?

Only if you missed the part where Mae was in your bed, and you poured your heart out to her, claiming her as the only one in the world for you, explained Horatio.

That wasn’t sex! protested Justin.

Who said it had to be? asked Horatio. You’ve been going on about how “claiming” someone in bed is such an archaic way to talk about sex, but really, you’re the only one who’s been hung up on that term.

There are many ways to interpret those words, and you fulfilled them in a very literal way last night by claiming her as your soul mate.

I know I never used that term, Justin said, still unable to believe what was happening.

No, but that’s not what matters. What matters is that you can claim someone in a number of ways, and really, declaring that they’re the one, that there’s no other for you . . . well, said Horatio, call me a romantic, but that’s a much more profound way to claim someone as your own than through sex.

Odin never clarified the meaning! Justin protested. It’s a trick. A trick based on one word.

You never asked for clarification, said Magnus. And you played a similar trick on Odin when you dodged the deal the first time you made love to her.

First and apparently only time now, said Justin. This isn’t fair.

Fair? Magnus had no sympathy. He let you out of the deal fairly because you had the power of words on your side. This time, the words and meanings played you . Accept it gracefully. This is binding. You’ve fallen into the deal and must now serve him.

I get nothing! I don’t get Mae. I don’t get the power to find her assailant.

Nothing? asked Horatio. You get to serve our god! You have the honor of being his first and greatest priest in your country, and this torc Mae gave to you in anger will only aid your quest. I’d hardly say that’s nothing. And Odin may still help you find her attacker.

But no guarantees, said Justin morosely. He set the torc on his bedside table and felt nothing as he stared at it. A great and powerful artifact meant nothing without Mae.

No, agreed Magnus. The time for bargains is over. You’ve led him a merry chase with your ability to wheel and deal and make the most of twisting words. It’s a trait our god possesses in abundance and is what he admires in you. Now is the time to serve and fulfill your promise.

The truth of the ravens’ words settled in Justin’s gut, just as it had when another word trap had landed him into learning Odin’s runes and lore. Justin had recognized his inability to bargain then, just as he’d known he had the power to escape after sleeping with Mae before. But now? Now, he could feel Odin’s chains settling upon him. Intentional or not, Justin had claimed Mae with his heart, if not body, and now he was bound to the god as a result.

I wish you wouldn’t look at it as a punishment, fretted Horatio, sounding legitimately upset. Odin truly is a great and generous god who cares about you. You will find joy and meaning in his service.

The only thing that brought me joy and meaning is on her way to a war zone, Justin retorted. But rest easy, I’ll stand by my word and serve.

In fact, I think I’ll start celebrating my new vocation right now.

Eight hours later, he was still drinking.

It hadn’t been continuous, of course. That was largely because he’d passed out in the afternoon after overdoing it in the first part of the day. As evening rolled around, he found himself in a far better position to pace himself, simply keeping a steady supply of drinks coming that maintained his buzzed state but protected him from being sick or (hopefully) getting alcohol poisoning. He’d made his way to an upscale bar downtown, finding the atmosphere much more welcome than the one at home, after Cynthia had thrown him out for “turning to self-destructive behavior as a way to make yourself feel better about screwing up.”

She was wrong, though, because none of this self-destructive behavior was making him feel better about anything.

“Is this seat taken?”

The voice surprised him, largely because Justin had gone out of his way to avoid any female interactions so far this evening. It wasn’t that he couldn’t—after all, there were no commitments between Mae and him—but the thought of wooing female company for the night seemed like a lot of work for not very much reward. Besides, he knew enough to know when he was charming drunk and just drunk-drunk. He was definitely the latter, and while that still didn’t rule out his chances with women, it didn’t necessarily help them either.