Perhaps he thought it would have more of an effect on me; perhaps he thought I didn’t know, but I did. I stood my ground. “Yes, I’m a Shepherd. And yes, I can feel what you’re doing to people’s life-flames. I know what creates you, fake god,” I said, letting my voice reverberate low on the word fake. It punched through the room and soared with such power, it could have split the heavens in two. “You create your power from the hatred of others, from the intelligence of humans that has been turned toward destruction itself.”

  Bradley’s neck creaked as his head jolted to the other side. His eyes widened until I could see Odin’s intelligence more than ever. “You are smart. We have underestimated you. Smart, so smart. And yet, still so ignorant. For, Lilly, Shepherd, daughter of the Drift, there is no way this can end. There is too much power now. We will take this world, we will exterminate the creatures, consume their flames, and we will live on until another herd of cattle is born. And from the great heights of the realm of heaven, we shall watch until another slaughter is ready.”

  There would’ve been a time when my stomach would have pitched at his promise. For it was a promise. There was no doubting that Odin was fully capable of what he was saying – he had all the power of the gods behind him and the Drift weapons. What’s more, he had the privileged view of heaven to look down upon humanity and manipulate us.

  My stomach didn’t pitch. Nor did I jerk back. I simply faced him, my expression impassive. “This gamble won’t work. This time you have overstretched yourself.”

  “Overstretched?” Odin brought his arms wide, and I heard some of the bones snap. Bradley’s body jolted as if it would crumple, but at the last moment, his head tilted up, and another sneering smile split the remnants of his lips. “This is not overextension, child. This is a full-scale invasion. And there’s nothing you can do – the seed has been planted.”

  Bradley’s mouth opened wide – and I saw within.

  There was the same glowing, powerful seed I’d seen in the museum.

  They were about to open the final gate.

  Ever since the third gate opened, the storm had been pushing into this building and using its power to help open the gate. Now, all around me, its force rose with a climactic rush.

  Nothing could move me. I stood there, resolutely, as strong as I would ever be, my grandmother’s sword in my hand, and a conclusion slowly forming in my heart. “You keep asking me how this will end? I keep asking myself that, too. And the answer is this—” I brought my sword up and leveled it at Bradley’s neck. There was nothing I could technically do to stop the seed from forming a gate. Relieving Bradley of his head wouldn’t work – the gods were already here. As for the seed? I knew from experience the only way to destroy it would be to sacrifice my life. I could do that – I had the dedication to try. But I wouldn’t; it was the wrong thing to do.

  There was another way.

  I still couldn’t completely remember the path of the Shepherd – most of it had slipped from my mind as if my simple human neurons weren’t capable of holding onto that divine knowledge.

  I remembered enough to take another solid step toward him, my sword at neck-height.

  There’d be a way to end this where everyone benefited. All I had to do was use the considerable power of the Drift to create not destroy. That was the key difference between Odin and me.

  I watched Bradley’s jaw open wide. It unhinged, several teeth falling from his mouth as the gate seed within began to glow.

  More power infiltrated the room, spreading up from gaps in the walls and floor and powering in from the storm above. Despite the fact Bradley’s prison was now in a pocket of warped space, I could still hear the moaning, raging wind and the pounding sleet and rain. Sparks of magic flew through the room and plunged into the seed within Bradley’s mouth.

  If there’d been a scrap of Bradley’s soul that remained, it wouldn’t be able to take this.

  He died.

  I didn’t need to rush forward and press my fingers against his neck to know that – I saw it. Within his chest, his life-flame wobbled.

  Odin jerked a hand up and clutched Bradley’s chest. He was reaching in to grab the remains of Bradley’s soul.

  I didn’t let him.

  I spread my hand to the side and called to the dying light of Bradley’s soul. Using my connection to the Drift, I offered his life-flame another way.

  It accepted. Just before Odin could crush Bradley’s broken fingers around the life-flame, it wriggled free and rushed toward me.

  I caught it.

  Bradley’s eyes opened wide, even though they were now decaying as an image of Odin started to be transposed over him.

  Odin reached for the life-flame, his greed like a virus as it ate away the remnants of Bradley’s once human features. Though Bradley’s life-flame was insignificant compared to every human soul on Earth, it didn’t matter – this was what Odin stood for. He’d made himself into the god that sought out entropy no matter the costs.

  But he wouldn’t have this life-flame. Somehow, a part of my body must have remembered the way of the Shepherd, and as I spread my fingers wide and I opened a door back into the Drift, Bradley’s life-flame flickered, grew brighter for an instant, then disappeared. It slipped back into the Drift – back into the endless realm of potential.

  What was left of Bradley’s body just disintegrated right there before my eyes. If I weren’t in control of myself, I would’ve shrieked at the disgusting sight. Instead, I saw it for what it was – nothing more than mere matter that had lost its soul.

  As it fell, in its place grew Odin – his massive form, his pitch-black armor, and his greedy gaze. He locked it on me, unhinged his jaw, and roared. It sounded like 10,000 strikes of lightning, like the earth being torn in two.

  Rounding his hands into powerful fists, he brought them forward, spread them wide, and called two weapons to him.

  They were Drift swords. One was blazing white, the other pitch black like Odin’s armor. Though I’d never seen these weapons, I knew they were the most powerful in existence.

  “Contemplate your death, Drift witch,” Odin spat, his voice still vibrating with the force of his uncontrollable anger. “There is nothing you can do now. You have claimed one soul from me, but this world is still rich with others,” he said, and every movement of his lips was like a whip cracking over his words. His tongue pressed against his jagged teeth as his eyes only grew wider. That greedy fervor within – that dark desire for endless destruction – burned all the brighter.

  This was the worst nightmare I could have ever imagined. This was no demon, no simple criminal with a gun. This was facing something that could have been good but had chosen to be evil.

  Did I shudder back?

  No.

  I won’t call it calm serenity – because it wasn’t – but something close to it came over me.

  Ever since I’d called to Bradley’s soul and sent him back into the Drift, I’d felt something spread through me. It was a realization that this was it. This here was my destiny – my doorway through life. For isn’t that what destiny is? A pathway through the vagaries of existence from birth to death and beyond. A path by which you gather experiences, knowledge, and wisdom as your life-flame leads the way.

  I helped Bradley find his path to the beyond. So I could help others.

  I took one final determined step up to Odin, never shifting back as his eyes literally burnt with the desire for revenge and destruction. It was so powerful, I thought the trapped magic within would consume his face in a single explosion.

  He attacked.

  Rather than face him, I opened up a Drift door and transported away.

  The gate seed was still opening within Odin’s mouth. I knew it would take time to defeat him. I wasn’t running away – I was buying myself a chance. This prison of Bradley’s had filled with so much magic, if we battled here, the gate would open. Once it did, it would all be over.

  I needed time to come to my own resolution.

  To do that, there was something I had to do first.

  I still couldn’t remember all of the path of the Shepherd, but it was enough that I knew where to go.

  I needed to pull one man’s soul back into the land of the living.

  I could feel Odin behind me, even as we transported through the building and we both occupied different pockets of space. He was always just a step behind me, centimeters from grabbing me and ending this all.

  I pushed on until I got just enough distance to concentrate right on the center of my chest. In a moment of pure power, I pushed all my attention into the frozen shard above my heart. For the first time ever – though I’d told myself I’d done this before – I gave in completely to that cold force. That lack of warmth and movement and love and life spilled through me, for there was no more fear in my heart holding it back.

  The Drift didn’t represent the end of existence – it was just a continuation, like everything else.

  As I gave in to it, I transported back into the in-between realm – the doorway, as Franklin had put it. The same doorway he’d begged me to close in his last moment.

  I was swamped by formlessness.

  I no longer paid attention to it. I didn’t need to experience it or explain it with my meager thoughts. I just let it flow around me as I searched.

  I always kept one hand clutched around my Drift sword. With my other hand, I locked my fingers against my chest. I let my fingers spread down until they aligned with my heart, and I felt Vali’s shadow within.

  I called to him with every fragment of passion and love I had.

  Was there anger in my heart? There should have been. Hadn’t he stolen that box? Hadn’t he lied to me yet again? Hadn’t he manipulated me at every opportunity?

  Yes, yes, and yes.

  I didn’t let those thoughts control me. If I gave in to the desire for revenge, Vali would simply grow more powerful.

  I called and called, and eventually, he answered.

  As I’d said before, this place had no form. And without shapes to orient from, there was no direction. There was just the pure, dark energy and potential swirling around me.

  But I still found him, and my hand wrapped around his.

  Just at the last moment – just before Odin could reach me – I pulled Vali with me and transported back to the real world.

  Though I could transport anywhere, there was only one place I could go now – back to his office.

  I hadn’t been able to transport directly into Vali’s office previously, but this time was different because he was with me.

  There we appeared in front of the windows.

  He fell to his knees as weakness ravaged his body. His back, arms, and chest plate were completely covered with ice, the only color visible his deep, violet pupils as he slowly tipped his head up and stared at me. He didn’t blink, either because he couldn’t find the warmth in the muscles of his face to shift his eyelids, or because he didn’t want to. Maybe he couldn’t stomach anything coming between him and me.

  I still held his wrist, and slowly warmth shifted from me into him. Or maybe it was the other way around. Though, in my heart, I was literally nothing more than ice, Vali had allowed something else to burn within me.

  I didn’t know what I would do to him. I could question him or go straight for my sword.

  We had time to talk. Odin wouldn’t be able to push his way into Vali’s office, not yet anyway. As for the rest of Vali’s employees, Odin wouldn’t waste his time with them. I could feel him right outside of the office. He was focusing all his malevolent energy on breaking down the door and seeking his revenge on me.

  As the word revenge echoed in my mind, Vali pushed up.

  The warmth spreading between us must’ve thawed the ice that had covered him, because right before my eyes, I saw it burn up. Licks of steam escaped over his lips and beard and breastplate until he stood, the exact vision of a god.

  I still had hold of his wrist, and I still stared at him, never letting my gaze deviate from his, even though behind his eyes was a promise I didn’t know I could share.

  “Lilly,” he said, his voice the epitome of tenderness. It made me want to fall forward into his arms until this nightmare went away.

  I didn’t give in to that desire. I simply held his gaze. “Tell me,” I said. There was no fragility in my tone. It was an order, plain and simple.

  It looked like he wanted to do nothing more than spring forward and wrap his arms around my back. He stopped himself.

  I didn’t have to tell him that I’d found out he’d stolen the box. I didn’t have to do a damn thing but look right at him and wait.

  I swear a little of the ice that had once encapsulated his body returned. It would be the remnants of the Drift – it would’ve been the prison that had trapped Vali and his fake god magic in place.

  Then again, maybe it wasn’t the ice from the Drift that was slowly freezing his expression – perhaps it was the ice coming from my frosty expression.

  I felt cold anger spread through me at the memory of what he’d done.

  He didn’t speak. So I pushed him. “You stole that box. You lied to me. Why? Why did you want the Drift box? Don’t tell me it was to protect me,” I said. My voice twisted. Memory upon memory of every time he’d lied to me slammed into my heart as if they wanted to dig out the Drift shard and throw the rest of me away.

  I still had hold of his wrist, and my grip unavoidably tightened.

  He didn’t pull back. He simply let his head drop, his gaze locking on the floor. For several seconds it remained there until he looked up.

  As he did, I saw he changed, right in front of my eyes. I swore all the tenderness that had passed between us for the last six weeks was completely obliterated as he went back to being that vengeful bastard Vali, the God of Revenge.

  “I used you,” he said flatly. “Just as everyone else did. It was the only way.”

  “Why?” My tone was as cold as the depths of space.

  That special heat that was generated between us and could seemingly thaw anything, no matter how cold, was extinguished.

  He pulled back, and though I wanted to keep hold of his wrist, locking him in place, he broke my grip.

  There was something bigger about him, something broader about his muscles, and something stiffer about his expression. There, right in his eyes, I saw what he truly was – the God of Revenge. I swore that power encased him. “You were a unique creature, Lilly. A being half of this realm and half of the Drift. Half-human, half-Shepherd. And there, right above your heart,” he pressed a finger toward me, raising his arm, his shoulder as stiff as a steel slat, “resides a true doorway into the Drift.”

  I didn’t want to talk to him. I wanted to shove him away, throw him through the window, and be done with him, but I couldn’t stop my lips from opening. “What do you mean a true doorway into the Drift?”

  “Haven’t you figured it out yet? We all used you, all lied to you. From your grandmother, to Franklin, to the White Witch, to the fake gods themselves. And yes,” he brought a hand up and slapped it hard on his chest plate, the metal resounding with an unholy pitch, “me. For you could give us all something we had always dreamed of. The power to make a final change.”

  I felt sick. I felt like spitting on him. But I managed to peel my lips back once more. “A final change?”

  “Didn’t you see it? Trapped within all the major players of this game was a wish to alter the realms forever. To change the twisted relationship that has been built between the fake gods, humans, and you Shepherds. We all wanted to change the architecture of reality, Lilly. And you,” he spread a hand toward me, and there would’ve been a time when I would’ve accepted it, but now I took a step back, ensuring I was never within reach, “you gave us the ability to achieve it.”

  “So you’re saying it was all a lie?” I said, my words only just managing to push from my lips. As the true nature of his manipulation of me struck home, I almost shut down. Enough anger remained to enable me to tip my head back and look at him with all my fury. “From the beginning, it was all an act of manipulation.”

  I saw something that didn’t fit his angry tirade: tenderness. For just a second – even though our hands were no longer connected – I felt his warmth. The very same warmth that negated the cold of the Drift and the cold of this unending nightmare.

  I flinched, and so did he. “No, it wasn’t an act – not completely. I fell for you,” he admitted, his words strangled. “How could I not? Though at first you were a means for my final wish,” he said, letting his gaze drop, his head shifting all the way down as he stared at his hands in turn, “you gave me something I never thought I could have again.”

  I wanted to deny what he was saying, but goddammit, I simply couldn’t deny that warmth. It thawed the cold that had spread through me at the realization that everyone had been using me. My lips wobbled apart. “What do you mean?”

  He tipped his head back with a violent move that saw his shoulder-length hair shake. “Haven’t you figured it out? How trapped we all are? How trapped magic makes us?”

  “What?” My voice was nothing more than a whisper.

  “I know what Franklin told you, Lilly. Despite the fact I was stuck in the doorway between realms, I was still connected with him enough to realize what he was saying. And he was right,” Vali said. “We fake gods willingly gave up most of our life-flames to learn the ability to manipulate others, to harvest their souls for our purposes. It made our magic stronger, but it diluted our true selves. And more than anything, our ability to change. As we became the gods of myth and legend, our roles absorbed us. I, as the God of Revenge, became nothing more than the embodiment of that principle. For all of my force – everything that kept me alive – came from seeking out revenge.” His voice got faster as if he were a massive boulder rolling downhill. Emotion tore through his expression, pulling down his walls, one-by-one, right in front of me.

  I wanted to pull away from this conversation, but I no longer could. The raw emotion Vali displayed held me in place. It was far more powerful than him reaching out and clasping my shoulders – it felt as if his heart was communicating directly with mine.