to take all the data that Viola and Draven had gathered from the Druid archives and put it into my computers, hoping I’d speed up the process of finding Mortis. Unfortunately, I’d designed this system myself, and no one else could handle its intricacies. Everyone else who might’ve possibly assisted me on this had been dispatched to help track down the cults. I’d have to get back to Taeral and his crew as soon as I figured out where Death was holed up.
Even from this endeavor, there was one thing that had become painfully clear: Death would not be an easy entity to talk to. She wouldn’t give any handouts, and she wouldn’t be immediately willing to help us. She would’ve done it already, if she could. Or if she wanted. Again, another mystery that nagged me. Why hadn’t she intervened by now, like she’d done before? She certainly wasn’t making it easy for anyone looking to find her. To me, that suggested the risk of her potential unwillingness to do anything about the Hermessi. It could mean that Varga and his team might come back with nothing from a trip to Mortis, once we found it.
My search process continued, as I kept my eyes glued to the screens and occasionally modified the search parameters, while Viola offered me new bits of information from the Druid scrolls. Some were detailed enough to give us astronomical maps drawn from different locations across the In-Between, two of which were noted to be close to the Nekronos system. So far, we’d narrowed it down to four potential galaxies where that cluster would be, so I’d begun narrowing the search further and focusing on those.
“I feel homeless,” Safira said quietly, resting her head on the table in the middle of my office.
“That’s because we are homeless,” Rubia replied dryly.
It had been like this for the past couple of hours. The destruction of Mount Agrith had changed the Daughters of Eritopia, and I wasn’t sure if the shift was positive or negative. They sounded even more like sullen teenagers now than they did before. Viola was the only one who’d kept it together—then again, she hadn’t been as tied to Mount Agrith as her sisters. She was more GASP than Daughter.
Draven and Serena had been kind enough to accommodate the Daughters by giving them their own living quarters in Luceria, and there were plenty of incubi and succubi eager to help them settle in, to serve and support them as they desired. Among the common people of Calliope, they still had their godlike ranks, even after it had become known that they were the products of pink water, made by Wei, the Earth Hermessi.
Even so, the Daughters kept coming back to my office every five or six hours, so they’d be close to Viola. There was something about her that seemed to appease them, to make them feel a little better. I didn’t mind, since they didn’t say much while they lounged here, but I couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. They seemed to lack purpose. It was as if their whole lives had been crushed along with Mount Agrith.
“They’ll get better eventually,” Viola whispered to me, wearing a tentative smile. I felt her anguish, too. Her sisters’ pain was hers, as well, and it rippled through me in disturbing waves of hot and cold. However, she kept her composure. Her emotions didn’t get in the way of our mission, which, as of Varga’s last conversation with Taeral, had been to focus solely on finding Mortis.
“I know,” I replied softly, clicking away at the keyboard while she added two more serium batteries to the computer’s central unit. She’d learned a lot about the system since Dmitri, Jovi, and I had put it together with Arwen and Corrine’s help, over a year ago.
After Strava, we’d delved deeper into the possible combinations of magic and technology, made feasible by the serium imports approved by Amane and Amal. The twin Faulties had made their own strides in the field, and we’d often shared insights and discoveries as we progressed. So far, this computer system was my favorite. It was the equivalent of a magical artificial intelligence, capable of incredibly complex equations. It didn’t fear the idea of searching an entire universe for one measly planet.
“I feel like we should find something to do,” Chana said from the other side of the table. Amassa was braiding Nibel’s hair, and Nova was sifting through other Druid scrolls, occasionally passing