“Everyone dies, Corine Solomon. I did not know the manner of his passing. It is not given to me to see the future, but I did know he would come to me in time.”
That was a little better than the Christian version of this story, anyway. At least he hadn’t known what would happen to Chance, when he lay down with Min in the orchard all those years ago. I offered a watery smile, trying to seem resigned.
Instead of dead stubborn, which was what I’d always been.
“It must’ve been hard to leave them,” I said softly.
“Yes,” he admitted. “But all great deeds are done with purpose. I will summon Daikokuten. Please keep your conversation short, as my power is limited.” His friendly, open face grew wistful. “People do not visit the shrines as they once did.”
“I understand. I’ll be brief.”
What do I even say, I wondered. I can’t let on, even to Chance. No answers came to me; then my love was striding along the river, his steps quickening as he glimpsed me. He pushed into a run, and I met him. His arms came around me, and he buried his face in my hair. The wind blew, carrying the sweetness of blooming flowers and the gentle hint of mist from the river. It would’ve been perfect if I hadn’t known how the interlude ended. I breathed him in, trying to store up the memories for when he was lost to me for good, even in dreams.
You have to do this, I told myself. Otherwise, he’ll give the ruse away and Ebisu may keep you here, keep you from saving him.
“I missed you,” he whispered. “But I’ve got a lock on a solution. There’s a weak spot between the realms. I found out how my father passed into our world. There’s a particular festival when—”
I couldn’t let him continue. So I kissed him. He’d shut me up that way before, but it wasn’t a strategy I employed often. Fortunately, he fell into the kiss with a fierce hunger, tasting me as if I were a delectable treat he hadn’t enjoyed in months. I ran my fingers through his hair, traced down his neck and shoulders. My arms tightened around him compulsively; letting go might prove more than I could bear.
Then I said the words, praying he believed them, hoping he didn’t. “You can’t go down this road.”
He reacted as if I’d punched him. “Are you kidding? We can do this, I swear. I don’t have the same juice my father has because he’s stored it up from the years of reverences, but I have a little residual power from the shrines. I just need some help from your side, and I can come through. And unlike my father, I won’t leave again.”
Ebisu appeared beside us then, his face stern. “What he is not telling you, Corine Solomon, is that if he does this foolish thing, he yields all claim to immortality. He will be stripped of his power and become nothing more than a mortal man. No luck. No magick. No future.”
“No future, except the one I choose . . . with her,” Chance bit out, his eyes livid with rage. “I already told you once, I’m not staying. I don’t want to be a god. I don’t want to be worshipped. The whispers from the shrines are fucking creepy.”
“So you hear them.” Ebisu seemed pleased. “Good. Very good. Now then.” He turned to me. “It’s time for you to go . . . and you will not be welcome here again.”
I opened my mouth to convince Ebisu I’d lost my resolve, but somehow, what came out was: “I love you, Chance.”
Please let that be enough. Let him know I won’t stop until he’s back with me.
When I woke, I had tears streaming down my cheeks, burning salt in the corners of my eyes. I swiped my hands across my cheeks and rolled out of bed. It was ridiculously early, considering what time I’d gotten to sleep, but four-hour bursts had been the norm since I got back from Sheol. If I wasn’t dreaming of Chance, I had nightmares about what happened in the demon realm. Gods, I was a fucking mess.
Butch roused when I went into the kitchen to put on some coffee, so I let him out and he did his business in the backyard. His nails clicked on the patio as he came back inside to investigate his dish, which I took the hint and filled, then freshened up his water. I knelt to pet him.
I wondered if I was being selfish, so single-minded in my intentions. Ebisu had seemed so positive it was Chance’s destiny. Would he be better off becoming a god? Such an odd question. But then Barachiel was certain I was destined to help him rewrite the world, and he couldn’t be more wrong.
Maybe the dog has an opinion.
“What do you think? Should I let Chance go?” I asked Butch.
Obviously, I didn’t mean it. There wasn’t a force on earth that could get me to deviate from this goal. But he took me seriously. Instead of eating his breakfast, he trotted into the living room to nudge my purse. I took that to mean he wanted the Scrabble tiles, so I got them out, then plopped on the floor to watch him sort them with his paws. After a few minutes of arranging them, the message emerged:
chance doesnt want to be a god
“How do you know that?” I demanded. “You don’t see my dreams, do you?”
The dog huffed out a disgusted sigh, as if he couldn’t believe I’d ask that. “How am I supposed to know what you can do?” I muttered. “How, then?”
chance is dead i see ghosts
Aha. I did remember that Butch had warned us once via that same skill. So that meant . . . “You see Chance sometimes? He’s here. I just can’t see or hear him.”
That earned me the affirmative yap. “Do you talk to him much?” He cocked his head, and I rephrased. “Fine, do you hear him much?”
Affirmative yap. “Oh, wow. Can you pass his messages along to me?”
thats why im doing this
“Okay, go for it.”
he says please dont give up