The first night Dante spent with the Vanguard, he had a dreamless sleep. Reunited with his sister, his mind was at peace… at least for a moment.

In the morning he, Jayden, Jarrett and Hera headed toward the wall of mist. It was time to make peace between the Ravens and the Vanguard.

As it came into view, Dante gestured toward the dense fog. “The mist let me through on my way here. But now, how will we find the Ravens in it?”

“It’s more like they’ll be finding us,” Jarrett grumbled. “If they realize we’re willing to speak, we’re hoping they’ll emerge. Or let us through, I suppose, like they did for you.”

They approached the mist, and it did not clear. Jarrett took a deep breath before leading the way in. “Stay close,” he instructed, taking the lead.

Silence wrapped around as thickly as the fog did. It was eerie, only being able to see a few feet in any direction. Jayden clung close to Dante, and Hera followed up in the rear, glancing behind them every few seconds.

“I can’t believe you’re an emissary,” Jayden said to Dante as they continued through the mist. “You were so scared to use magic back home. What changed?”

“Well I left Saridian, first of all. Another emissary, Bronwen, took me to the Crossworld when I had to run from Barek and his… friends. He brought me to Death’s castle and then… he showed me how to use magic to heal. He told me I could help people with magic.”

Jayden nodded, solemn. “I want to help people too.”

Dante stared at her for a moment. He had changed a lot in their time apart, but Jayden had changed too. She seemed older now. She’d been taken from home, magebranded, imprisoned… It hurts my heart to think about all she’s been through now.

“Everyone quiet,” Hera said. “I think I heard something.”

Listening closely, Dante could hear it now too. A gentle chiming, then the soft padding of footsteps on the damp grass. He turned to the sound and spotted a silhouette approaching them.

“Who is it?” Jarrett called out. Dante saw him reach for his sword’s hilt, then purposefully move his hand away from it. “We’re here in peace,” he added.

A woman appeared out of the mist. The silver charms in her hair jingled as she moved. She wore black robes and layers of necklaces and bracelets.

“Fae,” Jarrett greeted. His voice was steady, but seemed forced. “You know Hera. This is Jayden and Dante.”

Fae nodded. Her dark eyes flicked over the four of them. “I met the girl when she came through the mist. The boy is new, though, yes?”

Dante cleared his throat. “Fairly new.”

“We’d like to speak with Leandra,” Jarrett said. “Whether you’d like to take us to your camp, or if she’d like to come meet us—”

“Who says she’ll speak with you at all?” Fae grinned, though her curled lips held no joy. “We sacrificed much to help you, and you treated us with contempt.”

“And we’d like to apologize for that,” Hera said. She looked pointedly over to Jarrett.

“Yes, we would. I know there’s been… tension between the Ravens and the Vanguard, but we’d like to make things right, and work together against Riordan.”

“And what makes this time different, Jarrett?” Fae asked. “You didn’t trust us, so why would you now?”

“You want my honest answer?” Jarrett asked.

“I’ll accept nothing less.”

“We don’t have a choice. I’m sure that’s what Leandra planned all along, of course. The mist is equal parts to protect us—or, at least, the swords—and to hamstring us. We can’t run, and we can’t hide. But either way, Riordan is coming, and we can either be prepared for him or suffer the consequences of our hubris.”

Fae smiled, and there was a hint of something genuine behind it this time.

“Well, I appreciate your bluntness. Although, I must admit that I wish you would realize that we truly are on the same side as you. But your leader’s death weighs on you still, doesn’t it?”

Jarrett nodded. His face was hard. Dante had heard a little last night about the conflict that had ended in the Vanguard’s previous leader, Morgane’s death. Jarrett was obviously emotional about it.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save her,” Fae said.

“Didn’t,” Jarrett mumbled. “Didn’t save her. You could—”

Hera grabbed Jarrett’s arm—from his grimace, her grip was obviously strong enough to hurt. Jarrett took a breath. “Yes. Well,” he stammered for a moment. “It was a difficult battle. Both of our forces suffered losses.”

“So we did.”

“I hope that we can move forward from it. Will Leandra speak with us?”

“Yes, she’ll hear you out.”

“Your turf, or ours?”

“Ours.” Fae’s eyes darted to Dante and Jayden once more. “They’re coming as well?”

“I wanted to see Leandra again,” Jayden said. “She’s the one who brought me and my friend through the mist.”

“And you’re an emissary of Death,” Fae said to Dante.

Dante jumped a little. “I am. Death wanted me to assist the Vanguard in reuniting with the Ravens. She thinks it’s within everyone’s best interests.”

“If you’re a friend of Death’s, you’re a friend of ours.”

Fae led the way and after fifteen or so minutes, they exited the mist at the Raven’s camp. They still were not entirely clear of the mist, they were in a pocket of it that encompassed the Raven’s home base. Fae led them through the spiraled layout to Leandra’s tent at the center of the camp. The scent of lavender struck Dante as they all crowded into Leandra’s tent. Fae left them, whether for privacy's sake or just to give them space to breathe, he wasn’t sure.

Leandra sat cross-legged on a cushion, eyes closed. She left them in an awkward silence for a few moments as she drew in a set of deep breaths. Then her bright eyes flashed open, and she took account of her guests.

“Jarrett. It is good to see you, once more.”

Jarrett nodded stiffly in return. “We’ve come to make peace with you.”

“You’re ready to move past your anger?” Leandra asked.

There was a pause. Dante’s hand began to sweat. He looked at Jarrett, expectantly.

“We’re ready to move forward,” Jarrett said, finally. “We hope you are, too.”

“We have a new plan in place,” Hera added. “We’d like to include you in it.”

“A plan? Tell me about it.”

“A woman named Angelise came to us,” Jarrett began. Leandra’s eyebrows shot up, and the rare crack in her demeanor caught him off-guard.

“Angelise is here?” Leandra hissed. “That woman—no, I’ll let you finish first. What did she have to say to you, exactly?”

“She told me that I should recognize her. From my past.” He paused a moment, but Leandra reacted no further, her face ironed back into nonchalance. “She offered to break the seal on my memories, and told us that doing so would release a blast of magic that would draw Riordan to us, giving us an opportunity to ambush him. I don’t know why he would take an interest in that, but I’m willing to place my trust in her if it will bring my memories back and give us a chance to face Riordan head on.”

Jarrett had also told them last night about his tattoo, and how it held some sort of magic. He had been reluctant to share any more than that.

“This seems a childish thing to say, as a woman as old as I am, but I have to say I’m a little hurt that you’d put so much trust in her, instead of us,” Leandra said.

“We’re sorry we didn’t come to you sooner,” Hera said. “It’s difficult, knowing who to trust. But you had our backs, and we’re hoping we can restore your faith in us, and that you can trust us once again as well.”

“Right now,” Leandra said slowly, “I’m more worried about Angelise than I am you.”

“You have something against her?” Jarrett asked. “Is it because she broke her bond with Death?”

“Among other reasons, yes. I don’t think you can fathom how much danger and pain she’s about to put you in. She’ll have no consideration for your safety or wellbeing, as long as you’re helping you move forward with her goals. Tell me, do you even know her true intentions?”

Jarrett dug his fingernails into his palms, attempting to restrain himself. “She wants me to have my answers, and to fight Riordan. To be blunt, that’s good enough for me.”

“I see that.” Leandra frowned. “And I see there’s no changing your mind.”

Dante cleared his throat, and spoke for the first time since entering the tent. “I know that Death has issues with Ange, and that you probably do as well. Death sent me to help reunite the Ravens and the Vanguard, and while she may not have known that Ange would be a part of all this as well… the situation is dire.”

“I regret that I must agree with you, but I do,” Leandra said. “I must warn you that Angelise may not have our best interests in mind. But for now, we have little choice but to work alongside her. The Ravens will join forces with the Vanguard once again.”

Dante exhaled a breath of relief, and felt his companions all do the same.

“What does our timeline look like?” Leandra asked.

“Ange has been gone for a few days,” Jarrett said. “She said she needed some time to gather reinforcements. We expect her back any day now, and things should move forward quickly from there. We’d like to welcome you to come to our planning sessions, so we can discuss how to best combine our forces.”

“Of course,” Leandra said. “We’ll arrange for that to happen shortly. For now, I would like to have a moment alone with the young mages here.”

Jarrett glanced at Dante and Jayden. “You two are alright with that?”

Jayden nodded, her eyes locked on the older mage.

“That’d be fine,” Dante said.

Jarrett and Hera shared a relieved look as they exited the tent.

It was strange to meet a new emissary, in Saridian of all places. He tried not to let the smoke from the burning incense make him cough. As far as Dante knew, she was the last emissary Death had left, other than him, Scarlet, and Bronwen.

Leandra didn’t seem in a rush to speak after she sent Jarrett and Hera away.

Silence hung over them until Jayden broke it. “I wanted to thank you for bringing me and Barek to the Vanguard, even though you were feuding with them. We’d almost given up before we met you.”

Leandra smiled softly. “The Vanguard is where you belong.”

Dante wondered where he belonged. Have I ever fully fit in anywhere?

Leandra locked onto him, as if his doubts drew her attention. “And you. A new emissary? It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“This is Dante, my brother.”

“It’s good to meet you, too,” Dante said.

“I hope we can end the struggle with Riordan,” Leandra said. “Even now, I sense Death’s power waning. Riordan will strike at her soon, and she has no defenses left.”

Worry brewed within Dante. If Riordan came for Death, Bronwen and Scarlet wouldn’t be safe either. He doubted Bronwen would flee, even if he was well enough now. And Scarlet… he could only hope Death would send her elsewhere within the Crossworld.

“What can we do to help?” Jayden asked.

“That all depends,” Leandra said. “I never got a good reading of you when we first met.”

Jayden tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“I carry powers of insight.” Leandra held out a hand to Jayden. “If you’d like, I’ll tell you what I can.”

As Jayden sat down and joined hands with Leandra, Dante realized that the woman must be attuned to Io. She was like him. He wondered what she could see as she stared into Jayden’s eyes.

“You’re strong,” Leandra said after a few moments. “Stronger than you know. But, there’s something weighing you down. Many somethings.”

Jayden’s face twisted, displeased. “I won’t let anything weigh me down. I’m going to help the Vanguard defeat Riordan, no matter what.”

“I think,” Leandra said carefully, “that you should take a step back. Let yourself heal. You can’t fight before you’re ready to.”

Jayden ripped her hand away. “Everyone keeps treating me like I’m a fragile little girl. But I’m not. No one can stop me from being a part of this.”

His sister’s words sounded so much like Scarlet’s. “Jayden—” Dante tried to block her from fleeing the tent, but Jayden slipped past him. He looked to Leandra. “Sorry. I should go after—”

“Leave her be. She’ll be alright, but she needs some time.”

Dante bristled a little. This woman was a stranger, how could she possibly know what his sister needed?

“Trust me. Please.” Leandra held out her hand. His turn.

Despite his reservations, he kneeled down on the cushion in front of her table, and took her hand. He had no idea of what she could tell him, but if there was a chance it could help in the coming battle, he’d take it.

A calmness washed over him as their skin touched. Her gaze pierced into him, but he didn’t feel the need to turn away from it. She wanted to help him.

“You carry Io’s gifts as well,” she noted. “Hm. They have an interesting hold on you.”

“But… Death is my patron god. I’m attuned to Io, but they shouldn’t be connected to me like that, should they?”

“It’s true that gods usually do not have any particular claim on us mortals, unless we become emissaries. But in this case… tell me, Dante—how have your powers manifested thus far?”

“I can heal.”

“A rare art. I believe you have other affinities though, yes?”

He paused. “I have visions,” he admitted. “In my dreams.”

“You see the future?”

“And occasionally the past.”

“Do you lose your eyesight afterward, for a time?”

“Y-yes. How do you know that?”

“You’re a seer. So strange, for one like you to have been chosen at this time.”

“What do you mean?”

Leandra leaned in closer to him. “Divination is not a regular gift. Your visions come not from your own power, but directly through Io’s will. During the Magus War, Io would choose seers to help guide their followers—usually emissaries, or those who had otherwise joined their service. I don’t know if there’s been any since.”

So Io had chosen him, for some reason. All of his visions had been caused by them. His skin prickled. He thought back to his first visions. They’d been so unclear at first. Then there was the crystal orb. His dreams had convinced him to find the pieces, taught him how to repair it.

That was a gift from Io too, wasn’t it? His dreams had been more vivid and coherent since then, and they hadn’t let him let go of it. Scarlet had spoken of Death’s compulsions, and the need he had to keep the orb close felt similar to those descriptions. Even now, it was packed away with his things at Jarrett’s house.

“Why would they make me a seer?”

“That is only for Io to know, I fear. Perhaps they will share with you one day. Though you are an emissary of Death, it seems Io has plans for you. But your talents, the ones you were born with, I believe there’s more to those, too.”

Dante grimaced. He had come a long way as a mage since he had accepted his powers fully. He hoped it would be enough. It had to be.

“Along with your healing, you have powers of insight, too.”

Dante was sure he couldn’t look into people the way Leandra was reading him. Bronwen, too, had said he could use his insight to sense people’s gifts. “I don’t have that kind of ability.”

“Ah. Well. I feel that gift strongly within you. Perhaps you’ve been using it without ever realizing.”

“Is that possible?”

Leandra shrugged. “What each person can sense with their insight is different. You could be reading people naturally, seeing through to some aspect of their true being without even realizing. Try to pay attention, especially when making skin to skin contact with someone, as that’s when your powers will be the strongest. Perhaps you’ll figure it out.”

Dante withdrew his hand from Leandra’s, and the sense of calm he felt faded. He wondered if that was something—her feelings, bleeding into his. “I’ll try that,” he said. “Thanks.”

“Always happy to help a fellow emissary.”

“Do you…” Dante paused, swallowing hard. “Do you think Jayden will be alright? There’s so much that has happened to her, and I can’t get her to talk about it with me.”

Leandra’s face darkened. “I’m sure you know she’s been through a lot. The brand marks on her face tell a side of that story well enough. She will have some things to face inside herself. A great weight. I feel strongly that you should keep her far from Riordan. She needs to return to an equilibrium before she can face his darkness again.”

“That may be difficult,” Dante said. He knew how determined his sister was, and he could see how deadly serious she was about this matter. “But I’ll do my best.”

He and Leandra parted and he found his way out to the edge of the Raven’s camp, where Jarrett, Hera, and Jayden awaited him. He expected Jayden to be pouting, but she looked more angry than anything. It was strange to see her that way, so intense in her brooding. Jarrett was shifting from foot to foot, as if he couldn’t wait to leave. Hera was the only one who looked unequivocally pleased with the outcome of their meeting.

“What’d she say to you?” Jarrett asked.

“Probably nothing helpful,” bit Jayden.

“Just wanted to welcome me as an emissary,” Dante told them. Though vague, it wasn’t really a lie. But he didn’t want to get into a discussion about his powers. He didn’t know how his insight even worked, and his visions—he hadn’t even told Jayden about them yet.

Scarlet was the first person he’d ever shared his visions with. She’d protected him from them. He’d left her behind. He hoped that, whatever was happening to Death right now, that Scarlet was safe from Riordan’s grasp.

#

Days passed. Ange was taking her sweet time returning to the Vanguard, and Dante could sense how on edge that left everyone, particularly Jarrett. He wondered if that was a hint of the insight powers Leandra told him about. Could others not pick up on the emotions of others the way he did?

He was hyper aware of his interactions with others over the next couple of days. Most of his time he spent with Jayden. His anxiety over her safety was only marginally lifted now that they were back together. He hated that she had gone through horrible experiences in his absence, and they weren’t exactly safe yet. The magebrand that marred her face didn’t help either, it was a constant reminder of the dangers that they still had to take on.

He offered to heal her scars. He wasn’t sure that he could completely remove the puckered burns that stretched down most of her face, but he thought he could make them less noticeable.

But Jayden shook her head. “I’m a mage. I won’t hide it anymore. Even if it means living with this.” She held a finger up to one of the vertical marks. “I won’t let them make me feel ashamed of who I am.”

“You’re sure?” Dante asked.

“I’m sure.”

A darkness lurked inside Jayden that she never had before. Hatred rose in his gut. Riordan had tortured her, had stolen his sister’s innocence. Jayden was so different from only a few months ago; half the things that came from her mouth he couldn’t imagine her saying back in Briarglen. She’d been so wild and carefree, once.

They avoided talking about home. It was gone, anyway, and they both knew it. Nothing they could say now would change how anything had gone with their parents, or bring them back. It was a pain that sat between them, shared but unspoken.

Dante supposed that he was different than he had been, too. He was a mage, for one. That had been an unimaginable future before he left home. Now, he wasn’t only a mage, but an emissary of a god. He’d summoned strength to do impossible things.

He was stronger than ever before. He didn’t know if he was tough enough to help save the World from Riordan, but he was certainly tough enough to try. That, in itself, was a small victory.