“Say something, Aelia.”

“The Court of the Alder King will not be intimidated by the queen of the Undersea. If she wants me so badly, she can cometo the surface and get me.” I ripped the parchment in two and tossed it into the fire.

“Aelia,” Amolie touched my elbow. “I know you are tough, but you are not immortal.”

My mouth flattened into a straight line.

“I control an army that does not need to eat, sleep, or breathe. Let her come.”

Amolie’s expression softened.

“You don’t have to be so tough all the time. It’s okay to be scared. I’m scared. I’m scared every day.”

“I have bigger things to worry about than Calliope and Ursula.” Pulling the Scepter from the box where it lay, I gripped it tightly. “Morrigan, we need you.”

A white smoke poured through the mouth of the bird, and the goddess took shape. “Hello, ladies,” she said, stretching her long arms high into the air. Her golden hair fell in soft waves over her signature plated armor.

“Morrigan, we need to know if Crom is still in the world beyond the veil.”

She shifted her weight to one hip. “You think I wouldn’t alert you if he’d found a way back into this world?”

I shot her an incredulous look.

“Well, you come back and forth.”

“Crom has wards around his grave that keep his soul bound to the other side. It would take the Trinity themselves to revive him.”

“That’s what we’re trying to avoid, Morrigan.”

“I think you’d know if a Well had been found,” she said. “Everyone on this continent is desperate for power in one form or another. If Erissa and Gideon had found a Well, you’d know. Their allies would be lining up to get their hands on that kind of magic. Wars would break out over the Wells. That’s why the Trinity hid them.”

“I thought you said they were a myth?”

She scowled at me.

“Look, I don’t know where the Trinity Wells are. And those goddesses never trusted anyone. Not even their own Fates. So they wouldn’t have told me. But if I were them, I’d put the Wells in places no human or magus would find hospitable.”

“Like a bog?” I arched a brow at her.

“Yes.”

“And a desert?”

“Possibly.” She shifted her weight to her other hip.

“The Great White North?”

She huffed. “Are you just going to quiz me on all the awful places on this continent?”

“Go back to the underworld, Morrigan. See if your men know if Crom is still there.”

“What’s this all about?” She raked her blue eyes over me. “What do you know that you’re not telling me?”

I sighed, taking out my cigarettes from my pocket.

“Decuma saw a vision of a man in black being worshiped like a god in the desert.”

“No, it can’t be.”