He looked homeless. For a being currently in control of a vast amount of power, he wasn’t using much of it on his wardrobe.
He saw us coming. He had probably seen us coming since we left the boundary of Ordinary. Might have been spying on every inch of our travel via birds, weeds, clouds, or whatever else it was he used for eyes.
Still, his shaggy eyebrows rose upward at our approach as if he hadn’t expected our arrival, as if we were a complete surprise.
Which, I knew, we were not.
“Hello, Mithra,” I said. “Can we be seated?”
He was leaning back against the booth, his homeless gaze filled with an executioner’s boredom. “Delaney Reed. You received my summons?”
“Piper told me you wanted to see me and Ryder. Ryder Bailey, this is Mithra. All-seeing Protector of Truth, Guardian of Cattle, Harvest and Waters, and Divinity of Contracts. Mithra, this is Ryder Bailey.”
Ryder nodded, with just enough of a bend at his waist to make it a passable bow.
I was impressed. From the considering glint in Mithra’s eye, he was too.
“Be seated.”
I let Ryder slide in first, then I took the seat next to him.
“You have failed in your duties, Delaney Reed. How do you plead?”
Ryder tensed next to me. I guess he hadn’t expected the god to be quite so straight-forward. Luckily for me, this wasn’t my first tango.
“Not guilty. Also, I refute your claim to prosecute me or my blood outside of the boundaries of Ordinary on a matter involving Ordinary and the deities and creatures within it, of which you have no standing authority over.”
“I have every right to punish those who break contract, those who break law, those who break truth.”
“You are a god. But I am not bound to worship you. None of my family is.”
“The Reeds once chose to do right. Once chose to uphold oaths, defend the law.” Mithra put some power behind those words. Enough that if I were only a mortal, I would probably be quaking from the intense need to bow to his will.
Good thing I was a Reed, and not so easily swayed by god power.
“We still do that. I have a shiny police badge to prove it.” I gave him a smile.
He did not look amused.
Ryder was silent, but I could tell from the tension rolling off him that he might be rethinking his “there are no gods” thing. God power was a little hard to ignore even when the deity wasn’t trying to prove a point.
“You have failed to uphold the contracts of Ordinary.”
“When?”
“The god Raven took up his power and left Ordinary.”
Shit. Yep. I knew where this was going.
“In doing so, no contract was broken. Do you agree?”
I knew that there would be no lying to Mithra. He had a keen eye for the truth. It was sort of his thing.
That and seeing that justice—his brand of justice—was done.
“Yes, I agree Raven taking up his power outside Ordinary was not a breach of contract.”
“He was allowed to return to Ordinary. You allowed him.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Is that true, Delaney?”
“Yes,” I grit out.
“He then relinquished his power into safe keeping. Yes?”
“Yes.”
“He became once again the mortal Crow and resided within Ordinary. Is still there now.”
“Yes.”
“Must I repeat the contract of your land back to you, Delaney Reed? Must I remind you of the sacred covenant you have given to all gods, mortal, and creatures when you took up the mantle as the Eldest Reed and guardian of all those within Ordinary?”
“No.”
“Then you admit to your guilt?”
“I admit to nothing of the kind. What you said is true. It happened. And yes, I know what the contract with Ordinary entails. I admit to no guilt.”
He paused and those deep, watery eyes held the kind of edge that could cut through bone.
“Your father was wrong.”
I clenched my hands under the table, but didn’t show him how much those four words angered me. “About a lot of things, I’d guess.”
“He was wrong about his ability. Wrong about his decisions. Wrong about you.”
It took an effort to keep my mouth closed. Just because I was highly tolerant to god power didn’t mean he couldn’t undo every atom in my body with a snap of his fingers.
One did not live long if one pissed off a god.
“Maybe he was,” I said, though it came out a little breathier than I wanted. “But what’s done is done. He’s gone now. Dead. Even you can’t judge a soul beyond life.”
He blinked once, slowly, then simply stared at me.
Waiting for me to break.
The weight of his power pressed down on my skull, pushed at my neck, shoulders. It stung like bees crawling over my skin. It hurt, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.
We Reeds were meant to face any storm that came our way.
Even if those storms were gods.
I squared my shoulders and leaned forward, toward him, toward that pain, toward that hatred he’d always carried for me, my father, my family line. The hatred he carried for Ordinary.
“I will not worship you.”
I was pretty sure if someone threw gasoline at his reaction, we’d catch on fire.
“You can not continue holding the laws of Ordinary and the safety of powers in your hand without bending knee to a power larger than you.”
“We Reeds are the guardians of Ordinary. Always have been, and we always will be. None of my ancestors worshiped you. I won’t either.”
“You are wrong. There was a time when your family was tied to me, very closely tied to me. It was a better time. One I suggest you return to immediately.”
“No.”
His nostrils flared and that crackling light in his eyes looked a little like lightning. He was in full-throttle smite. I was about to be smoted. Smitted. Smate. Whatever.
“How about we deal with the fact that you are currently in illegal possession of the god powers of Ordinary? Which makes you an accessory to a crime. A crime that breaks the rules and contracts of Ordinary.”
“You hold no power over me.”
“Ditto, Mithra. And you never will.”
He went red, his buggy eyes somehow bugging out even more. “All contracts fall under my power. All contract breakers are mine to punish. Your father knew this. If you were the warden, you would know this too.”
“No.” My stomach went sour at the mention of it. Dad had spoken of the warden position off and on while I was growing up. There was a time, a long time ago, when Ordinary had the option of having a warden instead of guardians like the Reed family. It was back enough greats in my ancestral line that I hadn’t paid it much attention. But Dad had.
Mithra had tried to force my dad to take that position. To become the warden of Ordinary, to worship only Mithra. Dad refused. Refused to be a god’s sycophant, refused to be ruled by one god power.