Brownie answers, “If Emil’s knife is powerful enough to tear the fabric between our worlds, it could potentially dismember a soul.”
I straighten my shoulders and stand to full height. “How do we find Phaedrus? I need that divine knife, if it exists. The last time I saw him he was with Tau in Ireland. Do you think he’s still with him?”
“You said Tau is at Dominion’s fortress in the Gulf of St. Lawrence?”
“Maybe. Do you think he’d be with Reed or with Evie?” I ask.
“It doesn’t matter,” Zephyr says quietly. “We don’t need to know where Phaedrus is to get him here.”
“We don’t?” I ask in confusion.
“He’s right.” Brownie smiles at me for the first time.
“Okay, am I missin’ somethin’?”
“All we have to do is ask for a miracle.” Buns says.
I scowl. “Is that all—just a miracle? And how do we do that?”
“We pray,” Anya says at my side.
“That’s your plan?” I ask as I rub my forehead. “’Cuz I hate to point out the fact that I’ve been prayin’ for us all along and we’re still gettin’ our asses kicked!”
“You’ve been doing a good job, Russell,” Brownie says with a newfound grin. “We’re all still alive.”
I stare at Brownie like she has lost her flippin’ mind, because she has. I don’t tell her so though. “Okay, so we pray for a miracle and Phaedrus appears, like a genie outta the bottle?”
Buns shrugs as she holds out both her hands palms up. “With travel the way it is these days it might take him longer to get here. We may have to work on him, too—invoke Heaven to send him. He believes he should follow Tau’s orders, but Heaven comes first. If Heaven deems that he help us, then he will.”
I try not to give her my skeptical face, but dammit if it isn’t hard not to. “Glad to know how this all works. So, do you think Heaven will be on our side because from this perspective we’ve been on our own for a while now.”
“There are rules,” Zephyr says. “Heaven is reluctant to disturb the balance or the scales tip in favor of Sheol.”
“And nobody wants that,” Buns agrees emphatically, as she point her finger at me.
“I don’t know ‘bout any of y’all, but I do my best prayin’ before a meal—sometimes after. Do you think we can eat somethin’?”
Buns looks skeptical. “You might want to take a shower first. I have to go forage the island for food. This place is a seasonal resort—only a handful of humans remain on the island this time of year. We can go to the closed restaurants and see what they have in their freezers and pantries.”
“Where are we?” I ask.
“We’re in the Straits of Mackinaw.”
“We’re by the U. P. again?” I shudder. I don’t want to be anywhere near the Upper Peninsula
“Yeah. Missed it?”
“Not really. No,” I respond, “and just so you know for next time, I’m all for warm climates.”
Buns hops down from the arm of the sofa. “Noted.”
“I will go with you,” Zephyr tells Buns.
“It’s okay, Zee—”
“I. Will. Go. With. You.”
“Ohh-kayyy,” Buns states, holdin’ up both her hands, like she wants to keep her head. “But there’s nothing scarier than you on this island, Zee.”
“Do not try to appease me,” Zee replies.
Buns indicates that I follow her. Climbin’ the stairs to a row a rooms above, she shows me to a bedroom that has an attached bathroom. “Brownie and I will scout for some clothes for you while we’re out,” she grimaces as she assesses my size before she turns to leave.
“Thanks,” I call after her.
The shower is like a spa. With my hands braced against the tile wall, I lean my head down so water runs over my face. All the caked-on blood drains away from me as if the torture of the last few hours didn’t exist. But it did. I have bruises inside me. No matter what I do to protect my friends or myself, we’re vulnerable. There’s no magic that’ll stop what’s gonna happen—whatever is meant to happen will happen. We’re here for a purpose. I know what it is now and nothin’ else seems very important. Emil has to be obliterated. Once he is, I’m truly free—one way or the other. Knowin’ that is a type of freedom in itself—freedom from fear. I’ll fight the fight, and then this will end. I want it to end.
Somethin’ about that last thought shocks me. It’s not that I want to die—that isn’t it. I just want to be free to make my own decisions, to have my own existence separate from Emil’s or Evie’s—somethin’ that’s mine—somethin’ beautiful.