In her mother's arms, Scarlet finally felt the tension leave her body. She had been hanging onto it for so long, ever since they had been separated. Tears ran freely down her cheeks.

This was it: victory. Riordan was dead. Her mother was saved. She had heard Dante’s voice, and soon she could bring him back, too. Everything was going to be okay.

But then, there was also Jarrett. Scarlet, lost in relief and release, barely noticed the first part of the conversation between her parents. Then, it became quite clear that it wasn't going to be a cheerful reunion for them. She hadn't realized the full extent of Jarrett's pain, the anger he held toward her mother.

She won’t call me “Dad”.

Those were the words that echoed in Scarlet's head after he stormed off. Guilt washed over her. She knew now that he hadn’t left them by choice, but it was so hard to reverse the damage of the years where she’d thought he had.

She should be angry at her mother too, and she was sure it would come later, but she couldn't muster the feeling right now. Her mother was safe, and she wanted this moment of happiness to be unspoiled, as much as it was a bit too late for that.

After Jarrett had gone, her mother squeezed Scarlet closer again. Her voice was layered, pain and happiness both shining through. "I'm so grateful you're safe."

“We're both safe,” Scarlet said.

“You're…” Kiera paused. "You're in the World."

“It's a long story. I don't need to be tethered to the Crossworld anymore. I have my soul back, all of it."

“No,” Kiera said. “That's not right.”

“No?”

“I still feel your tether. Just a thread.”

Scarlet shrugged. “In any case, it's alright. I'm alright, as far as I know.”

She hadn't been able to find any connection to the Crossworld, other than her emissary bond, since she had originally broken the tether. It made sense that there would still be a faint connection, otherwise she probably would have died instantly, as opposed to being able to hang on until Dante saved her. How subtle it must be though, for her to not notice it. And how strong a mage her mother was, to be able to sense it.

“Why did you give me the dagger?” Scarlet asked. “It would have made more sense for you to have it.”

“When Riordan attacked us, I still had it. It was my chance to kill him. I did manage to cut him, but not deep enough. I’m sure he felt something though, because he ran. It gave me a chance to escape. But, ultimately, I failed that night. You almost died. I gave Riordan a reason to keep after me. I knew I didn’t have a chance anymore, he was going to hunt me to the ends of the World.

“When I left you in the Crossworld, I switched the magus dagger with your own, in case you ever had to face him again. Had things gone right, I would have retrieved the other weapons shortly for myself… I didn’t expect Riordan to ambush me again before I could get to Rosewood.”

“Well, in the end it worked out. And now it's over,” Scarlet said. “It's finally over.” She drew the dagger from her boot sheath, the light it emanated was a reminder of the power of the soul held inside.

As if on cue, footsteps tapped on the crystal floor, and Ange rounded the corner. Evidently, she’d found a way to escape her cell. “I would beg to differ.” She was dishevelled, with blood streaked across her face. “It's just begun.”

“I'm afraid she's right,” Kiera said.

Scarlet said, flatly, “Riordan's dead. How is it not over?”

Ange held out a hand. “Give me the dagger.”

“I don’t think so. Tell me what you mean, first.” Scarlet loosened herself from her mother’s embrace and stood. She didn’t like Ange looking down at her the way that she was.

“We made a deal.”

"I told you I'd find the weapon, not that I'd give it to you."

Ange’s face darkened. "You know that's not what the deal was."

“You weren’t straight with me, so why should I be with you? You lied to me. You knew Jarrett was my father. You knew about the mage prison. And I need to understand why you think my mother is a traitor.”

Ange waved a hand, as if she could brush away Scarlet's worries. “That's all inconsequential, in the grand scheme of things.”

“What is this ‘grand scheme’? Why do you want the dagger—Riordan's soul? Why isn't this over?”

Kiera broke in, “She wants power. To take the strength of the gods for herself.”

Ange raised her nose, sheepish. “I want to make the world better. Can you deny that it's a mess, the way things are now? The gods rampage through the World as they see fit. The Magus War is over, but still, they linger, manipulating us to their wills. No. It's our time. It's time for mortal interests to reign supreme.”

“Perhaps,” Kiera said. “But not with you at the helm.”

“Who else has the guts to do it—or the power to?” Ange asked. She turned to address Scarlet. “I’m the only mage who has ever been attuned to all the gods. I was born for this, whether Kiera wants to acknowledge it or not. You want to know my plan? I want to capture each one of the gods, and then reunite them within myself. No more division, but instead a single god, as they first started out as. Incarnate of all, but I want to stay in control, not give myself up as a simple physical vessel. To have but one ruler of Nymandia—it’s the path to peace.”

“You'll become another dictator, just like Riordan,” Kiera said. “Scarlet, you can't give her the dagger. We must destroy Riordan's soul, so he cannot return, and no one else”—she looked pointedly to Ange—“can wield his power, or give him form again.”

Before Scarlet could respond, Ange flew into a rage. “Destroy him? Everything will be thrown out of balance! Everything. The gods balance the World. That's why they must be one being, again. Separated, there is conflict. Reunited, we have a chance to end the constant struggle for power. Destroying any one of them would bring destruction to us all.”

Kiera's voice got low, soft, though her words carried a heavy weight. “We need to destroy all of them. That will bring balance. Then, truly, our World can be free from the shadows of divinity.”

“All of them, except Death,” Ange said. “Isn’t that right? You could never bring yourself to kill her.”

“The flow of souls would cease without her. She serves a function, and she doesn't interfere like the other gods.”

Ange looked to Scarlet, once again eyeing the dagger she clutched to her chest. “We seem to forget the decision isn't currently ours.”

Kiera held out a hand. “Give me the dagger. I know what I'm doing. Ange wants power for herself, she doesn't care about the cost.”

“Kiera will tear the World apart if she has her way.”

“Stop!” Scarlet said. “I… I'm keeping the dagger.” She didn't know what she would do with it, but both her mother's and Ange's plans seemed dangerous. Neither felt right, like it would fix things. There had to be another way, a better way. But for now, she had to keep Riordan's soul safe. Now that’s a new sentiment.

Power crackled from Ange's hand. “You think I can't take it from you?”

A moment of tension stretched across the cell. Scarlet wasn't worried about the dagger being taken by force—at least, not immediately. She was the least drained of the three of them, considering the burst of energy she had received when the magic flow of the spikes had been reversed.

Then, a bolt of energy came from behind Scarlet, crashing into Ange with such a force that it blew her backward. Scarlet spun to look back at her mother, who was barely holding herself up. Kiera had been held prisoner for so long, it was a wonder she had any energy left. Scarlet rushed to her side, helping her sit up again.

“If you ever harm my daughter,” Kiera choked out, “I will hunt you to the ends of any World you run to.”

Ange, ever resilient, picked herself up off the ground, panting. “I don't need to harm her. Nor do I want to. She'll be helpful to the cause, when she comes around.”

With that, Ange left, and Scarlet was left with her soiled reunion. She wanted so badly for everything to be alright, but it wasn't. Riordan had been taken out of the equation, but Ange was right: it wasn't over, as much as Scarlet yearned for it to be.