But it's not.
Tragic Orpheus is proof of it, and so if I want to be at peace with all the deaths that I still hold myself accountable for, I need to do something concrete like...
Eros?
What is it, little bird?
Can you take me with you tonight?
The change in his mood is palpable, and I quickly reach up to hold his hand when he moves to pull away. I'm done crying, kyrios, I tell him fiercely. I know there are people still out there that we need to catch. People who helped Cen get away with what she did...and I want to help you catch them.
Chapter Four
It's already a quarter to midnight when we reach Rosethorne, and there's a noticeably chillier bite in the air that has me burrowing deeper under multiple layers of wool and cotton. Up ahead, I spy a wall of mist enveloping the area where Cen crashed the car and killed herself, and I start in surprise when my god's fingers suddenly interlace with mine.
His concern seeps through that simple touch, and I squeeze his hand in reassurance. "I'll be fine." I speak to him out loud this time, no longer having to worry about other people hearing me seemingly talk to myself.
Invisible knuckles run down my cheek, and I lift my gaze to his - or at least where I think his eyes are. "Stop worrying."
I know you've been blaming yourself for this, and that has to stop.
You are not responsible for other people's choices, little bird.
"I know," I acknowledge with a little sigh. "I really do, and I really get what you're saying, but sometimes...it's hard. When I think about the fact that they're dead, and I'm not, I just...I just need to know I did something for them, and I think, after that, I'll be at peace."
Three men materialize into view as we come near, all of them tall, broad-shouldered, and with eyes of gold and blue. While even Olympians themselves need magical instruments to turn invisible, primordial gods like Eros and his brothers are different. They can turn visible or invisible at will, and they can stay in either form for as long as they wish without any effort.
The youngest, red-haired Erma, smiles at me with his usual charm, and I surprise myself by actually smiling back without hesitation.
"You are feeling stronger now?" Himeros asks.
"I am, thanks." I gesture to the thick mist that's keeping us from seeing the crime scene. "Has this been here since..."
Anteros nods. "Since that night, yes."
My brows shoot up. "And no one thought to question it? Or get past it?"
This is Rosethorne, moraki mou.
The students know when the divine wants to keep them out.
"I don't, though."
All students then, except you.
"And they stay away?" I can't help asking dubiously. "Just like that?"
Just like that.
"Right." I force myself to sound casual. Blind obedience to the divine is one of those Post-3rd things that still unnerves me, but I just clench my jaw to keep myself from speaking. Free will is still free will, even if other people's choices don't make sense to me.
Eros brushes a lock of my hair away, and I turn to his direction because I sense his worry. "I'm fine, kyrios. Really."
If you want to change your mind—-
I quickly shake my head. "I'm good. I can do this." I mean every word, too. Or at least I did when I said them. But once we've walked past the wall of mist, and my gaze falls on the wrecked, blood-stained shell of a vehicle...
Memories - the really bad kind - threaten to take over, but I simply grit my teeth and shove them away. Right now I have a job to do, and it's not something I'll be able to do well if I let trauma get the better of me.
I turn to Anteros, asking, "What's the plan for tonight?"
"That depends." Anteros pauses. "Did our brother explain to you how we were hunting for clues?"
I shake my head.
"Any being with divine blood possesses an imprint unique to themselves," Anteros says, "and it's only when we die that this imprint becomes identifiable and traceable. These imprints can reveal who we've come into contact with, where we've been—-"
"And since Cen is the daughter of a demigod," I realize out loud, "you can use her imprint to track down whoever it was who's been feeding her information about Rosethorne."
"It's easier said than done, though," Erma says with a grimace. "Imprints last longer when they're from full-blooded gods, and so in cases like Cen's, we only had seventy-two hours to track down any place or person she's left her imprint on."
So that's why my god had to cancel what was supposed to be our first date night...
Huh?
All three of Eros' brothers were suddenly grinning at me, and when Eros pulls me close, and I feel him smiling against my hair...