Scarlet helped her mother out of the depths of the mage prison. They joined up with the Vanguardians. Those who were in the best shape were moving the remaining mages out of their prison cells to further up the tunnel to where the larger group had gathered to recuperate.

There were a couple dozen mages who had been freed, in addition to the forces they had brought into Riordan’s lair—Scarlet grimaced when she realized how few of the distraction crew remained. She hadn’t gotten to know them well, but regardless she examined their faces, trying to tell who was gone.

She couldn’t see Leandra anywhere. Another emissary had fallen. It was just her and her mother now, and maybe—

“Bronwen!” Scarlet cried out, spotting him to the side of the tunnel, gaunt and pale. She had wondered if he had been captured alongside Death or gotten away. It seems he had been too stubborn to leave the god’s side before Riordan came for her.

He smiled weakly, and held a hand out to her. She took it, and he squeezed her hand harder than she expected him to be able to. “You came for us. I knew you could do it.” He noticed Kiera beside her. “I'm glad to see you are alright, as well.”

“It’s good to see you, Bronwen,” Kiera said.

“Where’s Death?” Scarlet asked, wary. “Is she locked away here?”

“No. Riordan imprisoned her in his realm. We’ll have to jump Worlds to go free her.” Bronwen glanced around. “And where's Dante? Is he with you, too?”

He didn't know. Of course he didn't.

Scarlet couldn’t quite choke out an explanation, but her pained silence and a shake of her head spoke for her. Bronwen squeezed her hand a bit tighter, his face crumpling as he understood.

“Scarlet, no. I’m so sorry.”

“Who's Dante?” Kiera asked.

Agony burned in Scarlet, sharp and impossible to ignore. Suddenly, she couldn't face Bronwen. She couldn't answer her mother. She released Bronwen's hand, and continued onward, her mother following behind with an air of concern, but didn't push Scarlet on the matter.

Fae was being tended to by a combat medic, which Scarlet was grateful for. It was a miracle she was even still alive. Then she saw Barek, sitting against the crystal wall, Jayden slumped unconscious in his arms. Are they free of Riordan’s influence, now that his soul is sequestered? She hoped that she didn’t have to find out the answer the hard way. Jayden bailing on the creation of the magus weapon had almost ruined everything.

Ange was out of sight. Scarlet wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or concerned about that.

“We have to get everyone out of here,” Kiera said from behind Scarlet. “Riordan may be defeated, but he has an army, and supporters across the kingdom. We aren’t safe.”

Scarlet nodded. She never thought she’d be looking forward to returning to the Crossworld, but she was absolutely done with being in Saridian. “Do you think the injured will be able to make it back to Deianira?”

“We may have to spend some time in Riordan’s realm before they can travel that far,” Kiera said. “And we have to free Death from the prison there, of course.”

“Of course,” Scarlet said, neutral.

“I don’t think I can muster a portal right now,” Kiera said. “Can you, while I gather everyone?”

Jarrett had made his way to them through the crowd. “Wait, don’t do that yet.”

Kiera stared at him, surprised. “Why not?”

“Because I think some of us should stay,” he said. “This may be the only chance we have to take the capital from Riordan's supporters. We’ve cleared the castle. This is the closest thing to a coup we’ll ever accomplish, with how our forces have been decimated.”

“I wish this could be more of a victory than it already is,” Kiera said. “But you’ll never hold the castle with less than a dozen troops and a handful of mages. You have to know that. There’s still an army, not to mention Calder. You’ve surrounded yourself with rebels, but you forget that most of the kingdom still supports Riordan, and they won’t hesitate to crush you.”

“Don’t lecture me,” Jarrett snapped. “I know we won’t change everyone’s mind overnight. I know it’s probably a death wish to stay.” He looked up to the Vanguardians and mages all around them that had stopped what they were doing to listen to their argument. “Our friends gave their lives for this victory. Leaving now would dishonor their memories. I won't tell you it's safe, but I will tell you that it's the right thing to do. The city will be in chaos when they hear of Riordan's downfall. We must hope that those who are tired of Riordan’s rule will join us, and help us overcome the misguided.”

Silence reigned over the tunnel.

“I think he’s right,” said Barek. Jayden was alert now, sitting up next to him. She nodded her approval.

“I stand with you, Jarrett,” Hera added.

One by one, the Vanguardians voiced their agreement. Some of the newly freed mages seemed eager as well, though many stood back, barely conscious enough to comment or fearful of the consequences of staying.

“You’re a valiant group, I will say that,” said Kiera. She seemed hesitant, but Scarlet could hear the admiration in her voice as well. “The injured should come with us. They can recuperate in the Crossworld, and rejoin you later if they’d like.”

"Thank you," Jarrett said curtly.

Scarlet squirmed as both her parents turned to her, wondering who she would join. She was the only mage in decent condition, yet, she couldn’t stay. Her mother couldn’t have much energy left, and she and Bronwen would need help tending to the injured. Plus, she had to go save Dante.

“I have to go,” she told Jarrett. “I’m sorry.”

He stared back at her, blank faced, like he hadn’t expected anything different.

Two groups began to form, one around Jarrett, and another around Kiera, gathering to travel through the portal Scarlet would make.

"I wish we had more healers," Kiera muttered to Bronwen as he rejoined them. “Not that I doubt your abilities, but… there’s just so many who need help.”

The comment was jarringly insensitive, before Scarlet realized her mother barely knew Dante's name, and had no idea he had been a healer. Regardless, her heart twisted. She would give anything to have Dante here with them. He had made this victory possible.

“Don’t worry, Kiera,” Bronwen said. “Once Death recovers, I’ll be able to pull power from her again. We’ll get them all through this.”

Those who deemed themselves in good enough shape to remain with Jarrett didn’t look much better than the injured that would be fleeing. All but two of the Vanguard fighters stood with him, regardless of their wounds. There were about five newly freed mages that had the guts to join him as well.

All of the mages from the infiltration crew made their way close to Kiera, with help from the Vanguardians. Fae had to carefully be carried, the worst of them all.

The exception was Jayden, who was with Barek still, near Jarrett.

“You should come with us,” Scarlet told her.

Jayden’s sidelong glare bit into Scarlet. “Barek’s staying, and so am I.”

“What if Riordan’s manipulations remain?”

Barek stepped in. “Riordan’s gone now. I don’t feel anything left of his magic,” he said. “She should stay. We need all the mages we can if we hope to hold the castle.”

Scarlet didn’t have the energy to argue. There was still so much to do.

“But… Dante,” Jayden added. “You… you’ll get him to come here, after you bring him back, right?”

What will Dante want to do once he’s back? What… what will I do? Scarlet hadn’t pondered much past that point in time. “I’ll tell him you’re here,” she said.

Jayden nodded. “I want to see him, to know he’s okay, but… if this is our chance to help Saridian, I have to be here. Tell him I’m okay.”

“I will,” Scarlet said. “You two haven’t seen Ange, have you?”

Both shook their heads.

“I think she’s gone, for now,” Kiera said. “But, Jarrett, if she comes back—you can’t trust her. She wants to rule the World, as Riordan did. It would be trading one tyrant for another.”

“And why should I trust your word?” Jarrett asked stiffly.

“Because she’s right,” Scarlet said. “Ange admitted she wanted power for herself. She thinks it’s the only way to stop the gods from ruling over us.”

“And if that’s not enough for you, she threatened our daughter,” Kiera added.

Jarrett’s gaze flickered over to Scarlet. “Is that true?”

“She… she said she wouldn’t hurt me but… she wants Riordan’s soul. I don’t know what she would do for it, when she realizes I won’t come around to giving it to her.”

“Then I’ll be wary if she returns.”

It was time for Scarlet to create a portal. She was about to ask her mother how exactly to do such a thing, but then she remembered the thread that still connected her to the Crossworld. Scarlet sank deep into herself and found it: the thinnest of threads, tying her to the realm of the gods. It gave her the feeling of the Crossworld, the flavor of it, and suddenly the process of opening a portal became intuitive. She dredged up the last of her power and cut a hole between the Worlds. She wondered where it would lead within the Crossworld, but the effort of holding it open as the injured were shepherded through cut her pondering short.

“Jarrett,” Scarlet overheard her mother saying as the last injured mages were being helped to the portal. “Please, don’t give up on me. Not yet. Let’s speak when I can return. I want to explain what happened.”

“I’ll wait for you,” Jarrett said. Hesitation lingered in his voice.

The mages were through the portal, then her mother, and then Scarlet was the last left of the retreating party.

“Are you coming back, too?” Jarrett asked. “I’d like to get to know you again.”

Dante would want to come back, to be with his sister, and to help Saridian. So then, it seemed likely she too would return. “I will when I can,” she answered. “Hopefully with reinforcements.”

Jarrett nodded. He too knew of the bodies Ange had preserved in the magus stone vault. Not many others did—they hadn’t wanted to get the Vanguardians’ hopes up, in case they weren’t able to rescue the souls of those who had fallen while Death was captured.

Scarlet couldn’t think like that. Dante had saved her. She had heard his voice; he was still here, and she would save him. She had to.

Scarlet couldn’t hold the portal open any longer. She gave Jarrett a wave as she stepped through to the Crossworld. One day, maybe it would be easier to think of him as her father again.

#

Through the portal was another tunnel. Her mother had already surrounded them with green light motes. Their luminosity didn’t bounce off the cave like it had in the World, because in the Crossworld, the walls were natural rock and dirt instead of magus stone. The rough ground beneath her feet felt strange after the smooth, manufactured crystal from the mage prison.

There were no cells in the Crossworld version of these tunnels. And, if Ange had portaled through, she was long gone—no signs of her remained.

The incline was slight, but enough for Scarlet to orient herself with which way was up and out, and which led further in. Something was tugging her towards the depths of the tunnel. Her emissary bond pulled taut, guiding her.

“I have to go down,” Scarlet told her mother.

Kiera nodded. “Take your time. I think we all need to rest before we can go anywhere. We'll move out of the tunnel when we can, and then stay here overnight before we travel back to Deianira.”

Scarlet followed her emissary bond like a rope as it led her deeper into the underground. Just like the World, there was a cell at the end, but this time it held a different woman.

Death stood behind a barrier of magic, awaiting Scarlet. Her red hair frizzled out wildly. Scarlet had never seen her hair out of her signature braid before. While her appearance was frazzled, Death herself seemed calm.

They stared at each other through the barrier, only a couple of feet away from each other. A long moment passed.

Death spoke first. “I felt it. Riordan. He’s… gone?”

Scarlet reached down and drew her knife. She held the glowing blade up for Death to see.

“I owe you my life, and much more.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” Scarlet said. She resheathed her weapon.

“Regardless. Thank you,” the god said. “I don't have enough power back to break free yet.”

“Together, then.”

Scarlet had to dig deep to come up with a second wind—perhaps her third, at this point—and together she and her god blasted the barrier with a barrage of flame and pure energy. It broke like an exhalation long awaited, a deep gust of power dissipating as it shattered.

Scarlet wiped the sweat from her brow. “How’d Riordan even make that? I thought that only you could manipulate pure energy like that.”

“He took complete control of my powers.”

Scarlet shivered. She didn’t like the thought of Riordan having his own powers, forget having Death’s energy manipulation on top of them. A god’s soul trapped in her dagger still felt too precarious to be safe.

Death stepped free of her confinement. Her face seemed different—softer, maybe, if that was possible. “I want to say I’m sorry—for everything I put you through.”

“It's a bit late for apologies.” Scarlet couldn't help but let the bitter words out. Maybe she got that from her father. She didn't want to cry again. Enough tears had been shed for today.

Instead, she began the journey back out of the tunnel. She could hear Death pacing behind her, but the god said no more to her.

Scarlet tried to work up the courage to ask about Dante—if he could be saved, pulled from the stream of souls, or if it was too late: if he had crossed, gone from this World. I heard him. He has to be there still. But doubt lingered, and too afraid of the answer, she couldn't bear to find out the truth.

Other questions lingered on her tongue, not ready to be formed either. The dagger strapped to her ankle was light, but the decision of what to do with it was a weight difficult to ignore.

When they reached the mages, Death and Kiera took a long look at each other. The emotion behind their eyes was difficult to judge. Scarlet thought back to Ange, telling her that her mother and Death had been romantically involved. It was a strange thing to believe. She supposed it had been long ago.

Perhaps Death had been less cruel, back then. Scarlet hadn’t expected Death's apology—maybe that was a glimpse of what she used to be. A person with compassion instead of one who pushed forward regardless of the cost.

“Death,” Bronwen said, looking up from where he was tending to Fae. He gave her a small smile. “It’s over.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Death said. They clasped hands. It was the first time she’d seen Death show any kind of physical affection.

Death and Kiera said nothing to one another. Death paced around the fallen mages, taking account of their conditions.

“Much of their energy will return soon, now that they are free.” She lingered at Fae as she passed her by. “With Bronwen’s help, even she should be able to travel soon.”

“And then we’ll get you back to Deianira,” Kiera said. A long pause, then she added, “And my debt to you is forgiven.” Scarlet sensed that it was verging on being a question.

“Yes,” Death said. “You’re free, Kiera. I’ll remove the emissary marks from you and Scarlet when we get to Deianira.”

#

They stayed overnight. Riordan's castle in the Crossworld was similar to its counterpart in the capital, but boasted many more floors, towering up into the dark ether. With some searching, they discovered an infirmary, and took over the beds and supplies there for the night.

Freedom was within reach, but it meant nothing. Not with the hole Riordan ripped into Scarlet’s heart when he struck down Dante. She’d rescued her mother, but that was only the start. Fragile stitching that held together her shattered pieces.

What use was freedom, if she still couldn’t have what she wanted?

She should have told him that she loved him.

Scarlet wasn’t ready when he’d put her on the spot. It was too soon then to be sure. She hadn’t been whole then, her soul scattered between Worlds. But then he put her back together. He’d reached into her soul, and she knew it then: his love was real, and so was hers.

Dante knew her, he saw her even through her defenses, and he still wanted to be with her. He’d sacrificed himself for her. And then it was too late to say everything she wished she would have said.

She adored his tenderness, the quiet passion with which he cared for things, from the plants he tended to the people in his life. He had the patience to take things slowly—most of the time—to tackle problems with purpose and care.

And Jayden was right—he’d died because of her. She couldn’t let that stand.

Scarlet chose a room across from the infirmary to stay in that night. She laid in bed for less than a minute before she realized she wouldn’t sleep until she got an answer. She got back up, and searched out Death. She wasn’t hard to find, she was exactly where Scarlet had last seen her, on a balcony at the end of the hall.

The door to the balcony was open, so Scarlet crept up behind her. Even though her footsteps were silent, she knew Death could sense her presence. Yet, the god didn’t turn to face her. Scarlet joined her against the railing, looking out toward the twin moons of the Crossworld. She hadn’t missed them.

“Death,” she started.

“Don’t.” The god shifted, and looked to her. “Please, would you call me Eva? I want to… feel that part of myself a bit more, right now.”

Scarlet was still taken aback at how different Death—or, Eva—was since she had been freed. It hadn’t been often that she’d received a request from the god, instead of an order. “Okay. Eva.”

“You had a question for me?” Her voice, too, was gentler than before.

“Ange thought that, maybe… the souls that needed to cross, while you were gone—”

“You’re wondering about Dante.”

“There are a few others whose bodies Ange preserved too—but—yes.”

“The others, I won’t know until we return to the stream. My powers are still recovering.”

“And Dante?”

“He’s an emissary. So, of course, I have a connection to him.”

Each moment Eva put off giving her a straight answer, Scarlet’s heartbeat quickened. “Just tell me. Please.”

“I don’t quite know.”

Scarlet narrowed her eyes. Was Death trying to dodge her questions once again?

“I sense his soul in the Crossworld. But I don’t think that he’s in the stream of souls.”

“Where else would he be?”

“I’m not sure. I might have a better idea once I recover further.”

So he hadn’t crossed to the Nextworld—that should have been a relief. But what could it mean if his soul was missing from the stream? Even Eva didn’t seem to know the possibilities.

“When you figure out—”

“I’ll tell you as soon as I do,” Eva said. “I promise.”

#

The next morning, they set off toward Deianira. There were ten of them in all: the Raven mages, Fae, Ophelia, Elden, and Wilhelm; the two most injured Vanguardians, Dalton and Garth; and then of course there was Bronwen, Kiera, Scarlet, and the god that she had slowly started thinking of as Eva.

None of them were in the best shape, but Bronwen had managed to stabilize all of them enough to handle a slow journey through the Crossworld. None of them wanted to linger in Riroan’s realm, especially not in his castle.

The first night, they huddled around a small fire to keep warm. The weather was already turning cooler, day by day. Tinges of yellow had been appearing on the edges of the leaves of trees in Riordan’s realm as well as Saridian proper.

Her mother pulled her from the fire, taking her far enough away that the others couldn’t hear them speak.

“Scarlet,” she started, “I know that things have been… intense. But now, you really do need to give me that dagger.”

“I don’t have to do anything.” Scarlet licked her lips. She wasn’t ready for this fight yet. She’d hoped her mother would drop the issue for a while longer.

Kiera seemed taken aback. “This isn’t a discussion. We can’t risk letting Ange get her hands on it.”

“I don’t intend to let anyone get their hands on it.” After hearing that her mother wanted to destroy Riordan’s soul, Scarlet realized that she couldn’t let the dagger go. As much as she wanted to keep Riordan from mortal interference, destroying his soul seemed like a dangerous solution—and Ange’s plan to take his place wasn’t much better, of course. But if Death being stripped of her power could throw the crossing of souls into chaos, who knew what outright destroying a god might do.

“Scarlet,” her mother said in a voice that meant she was serious. She held out a hand, expectant.

Scarlet crossed her arms. “You know, a lot has happened in the months you left me in the Crossworld for. Not only am I tired of living under Death’s rules, but also yours.”

Kiera slowly lowered her hand. “Everything I’ve done,” she hissed, “I’ve done to protect you.”

“How?” The word came out louder than Scarlet expected. Perhaps her distrust of her mother ran deeper than just her plan regarding Riordan’s soul. “All you did was hide things. You kept me from learning magic, how to defend myself. You never told me anything about being an emissary, barely anything about what you were up to. And you sent Dad away. Where did that get any of us?”

“Here! It got us here. Riordan’s gone, and we’re alive.”

Scarlet let out a bitter laugh. “Barely.”

“But you are. And now I want to make sure you stay that way. So hand over the dagger, please.”

For a moment, the pleading look in her mother’s dark blue eyes almost convinced her. But then she shook her head. “I can’t.”

“You can be angry with me if you want. I know I’ve done some questionable things. I never wanted to leave you with Death—I swear Scarlet, I had no other option. It was the only way to keep you alive.”

“And what about Jarrett?” Scarlet asked. “Did you have no choice then, too? Not only did you leave him behind, you lied to me for years about it. I thought he abandoned us, but you abandoned him.”

“That decision was between me and your father. The deceptions were the only way to do it that would stop you both from blowing the whole plan up. Neither of you would have been able to accept the separation without it. You’re both too stubborn for your own good.

“But there came a time where I couldn’t keep protecting you both. My work was becoming more and more dangerous, and hiding the three of us wasn’t practical anymore. I couldn’t send you somewhere safe with Jarrett, because if Riordan found you, he wouldn’t be able to protect you if it came down to it.”

“You couldn’t protect me when it came down to it either.” Scarlet could tell her words were cutting into her mother, but still, she couldn’t stop. “I should be dead right now.”

Silent tears streamed down Kiera’s face. “I tried to keep Riordan from getting to you—”

“I’m not sure that’s even the god I’m talking about.”

“Was she that bad to you?” Kiera whispered. “Please, don’t tell me I made the wrong decision. I never wanted this life for you.”

“I don’t know.”

Scarlet found that her face was wet with tears as well. She barely knew what she was saying anymore. Death—Eva—had been awful, yet also brought her some of the best things in her life. Magic, a way to be in control for once. Knowledge of the world in the books, in what Eva and Bronwen taught her. And, companionship—Dante, though each thought of him dug a knife deeper within her chest. If she had just died when she was supposed to, he would probably be alive right now.

Then again, so would Riordan.

Scarlet knew she had chosen this life. She couldn’t remember it, but both Eva and Bronwen had assured her that she had to agree to become an emissary. If she could go back in time, and hear Death’s deal again, knowing everything it would bring, would she still take it?

It was too difficult a question to grapple with.

Her mother took her gently by the shoulders. “You’re going to have to accept that I’ve made sacrifices. Not all of them have been my own. But I did the best that I could do.”

“You’re going to have to accept that I’m a different person than the girl you left at Deianira.” Scarlet took a shaking breath, holding back a sob. “And that I can’t give you the dagger. I have to take care of this myself.”

#

Four tense days later, at midday, they arrived at the center of the Crossworld. A boat sat waiting for them—it was painted blue and gold, Riordan’s colors, from when he had stolen Eva away. Eva insisted on being the one to ferry them across in groups.

Eva, Kiera, and Scarlet were the last group to cross the river. Scarlet peered down into the stream of souls as Eva paddled them closer to Deianira. Part of Scarlet had been floating along in the stream until recently. No wonder it had pulled at her energy like it did when she was swimming across it to get to Cascara’s realm to meet Ange.

She let her fingertips brush the water, ready to flinch back. But the stream didn’t call to her like it did before. It buzzed with energy, but that was it. She reached out, trying to call out to Dante, but he wasn’t there as far as she could tell. She withdrew her hand and shook the water off.

As they neared the shore, her mother stared up at Deianira. What was it like for her, to return here? Things had been tense between the two of them for the entire journey. Scarlet didn’t know how to fix their relationship—or the multitude of other things that were twisted the wrong way right now.

She supposed it would just take time. And probably a lot of effort.

The castle was dark when they entered. Bronwen was busy taking the injured upstairs for more healing sessions now that their journey was over, so Scarlet summoned an orb of light and found her way to the light engine, and fed it enough energy to restart. Things had changed so much since Bronwen had first shown her this place.

After the mages were settled into various quarters, Kiera and Scarlet walked through the halls. Scarlet was exhausted, and knew her mother was too, but a restless energy kept her going, and likely her mother felt the same.

“Where's your room?” Kiera asked. They weren't far, so Scarlet led her there. Scarlet swung the door open to the closest thing she’d had to a home for the past year.

“This was my room too, back when I lived here. I wasn't much older than you, then.” Kiera wandered in, and brushed the curtains back to take in the view.

Scarlet tried to imagine her mother younger, living here, in the same room she had. It was a strange thought. The room was filled to the ceiling with her loneliness, her depression, it drowned everything else out. Scarlet knew suddenly that she couldn't be in this room, not for another night, not another second.

“You can stay here,” Scarlet said. “I'll take the room across the hall.”

Her mother stared at her, appraisingly. “Dante's room?”

Scarlet flinched, just a little. She hadn’t spoken of Dante to anyone since her conversation with Death. “How do you know that?”

“I spoke with Bronwen. Scarlet, I'm so sorry—”

“I don't want to talk about it.” Scarlet left her mother, and went to Dante's room, slamming the door behind herself. Eva still hadn’t given her an answer on Dante's fate, and it was driving her mad.

She sat on the edge of Dante's bed, the place where she had sat to comfort him through his visions. How did she think this room would make her feel better? It was so empty, without his presence. Most of the plants he had carefully tended to had long since wilted from neglect. Only a couple remained, succulents that had thrived even without care.

Scarlet felt more like one of the withered plants than the hardy cacti. She was worn down, sucked dry, and still, she had to keep going.

Would he ever come back to these rooms? Or was she cursed to haunt these halls, alone, all the while making decisions on the fate of the World that she didn't feel the least bit qualified to make?

She kicked off her boots, unstrapped the dagger from her ankle and tossed it to the other side of the bed. She pulled her feet up, and nestled into the bed. Wallowing in Deianira. In Dante's room. Familiar, but new. She had squandered the time she could have had with Dante.

She shut him out for so long. Why had she been that way? Her anger was acid, always eating away at her, leaving her worn thin, too translucent to let anyone else see her. Could she have done it, another way? Accepted friendship, love, truly, before it was too late?

There was a knock at the door. For a moment, she thought about yelling, sending her mother away. Instead, she pulled herself up.

No. Scarlet didn't want to wallow in loneliness anymore. The battle was over, but the war had begun. Even in her anger, and all of the complications, she couldn’t waste the time she had with her mother. They could lose it again at any moment.

Scarlet opened the door. It wasn't her mother on the other side. It was Eva.

She had braided her hair again, her lips were painted bright red like they used to be. A serious look lingered on her face. “I have to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” Scarlet repeated. “Where are you going?”

“To the Nextworld.” Eva started down the hall. “Come.”