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Then again, what were the chances of the bad-luck goddess asking, “Did Tallulah make any binding promises to gods other than Seth?”

I was probably okay.

“Show me.” I tried to be subtle about shrugging free of her touch. She frowned anyway.

“Very well.”

Hecate pointed to the forks of the path. “The way is simple for those who can acknowledge the life they have lived. There is the path you are on.” She indicated the ground beneath our feet. “There is the path of the wicked. The path of the righteous. The path of the humble. The path of the wise.”

“And where do they go?” If the path of the wicked didn’t lead straight to the underworld, I’d be shocked.

“The journey is different for everyone who walks it, and thus so is the destination.” As if she’d read my mind, she said, “The underworld doesn’t need to be an awful place, little one. Not every eternity is an infernal one.”

“That’s your mystical, godlike way of saying you won’t tell me where they go.”

A light laugh. “Yes.”

“Well, if you ask me, the path of the humble is bullshit.”

Hecate raised one brow and regarded me with interest. She said nothing, but her expression clearly indicated she wanted me to continue.

“If someone was truly humble, they wouldn’t call themselves humble. It would be like bragging about how humble they are, and that would be counterintuitive.”

This made her smile brightly, and her adult visage was more beautiful than I’d ever seen her before. Arresting was the only correct word. Breathtaking.

“It is also the path of the liar. The self-deceiver,” Hecate explained.

“So nothing here is as it seems.”

“Everything is as it is. What it seems is merely a projection you have brought into it yourself.”

“Fucking riddles.”

Hecate took my hand and squeezed it, looking down each path. From this angle she appeared to be a child, and it was hard not to trust her just because of the innocent veneer.

“This is not a test or a trick. I want you to pick the path you would choose if you were standing here for real. And if you choose correctly, I will show you Leo.”

My gaze trailed over the options. I wasn’t truly wicked, and wouldn’t have chosen the path of the humble even if I hadn’t spotted the obvious fallacy in its name.

Righteousness or wisdom, then.

Did self-righteousness count? I’d been accused of that more than once. And no one had ever accused me of being terribly smart, in spite of my own opinions on the matter.

I was about to start a mental game of “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe” to pick a path when the answer came to me.

“No.”

Her grip tightened, and her hair fell over her shoulder, blocking my view of her face. The more she squeezed the more it began to hurt, until I yelped, wrenching my hand free.

“No isn’t an answer.”

“No is an answer.” I planted my feet firmly, worried she might try to force me to move. “You told me yourself it was what Leo chose, and if I expect to see him, I should take the same path he did, shouldn’t I?”

I totally deserved to take the path of the wise when I got here for real. No one else would be able to tell me differently.

The hag’s face turned a milky eye on me, her wrinkles creasing deeply as she furrowed her brow and sneered. Then the sneer softened, and Hecate faced me as the middle woman, easing the tension with a gentle smile. “I knew I’d made the right choice with you.”

“Great.”


Tags: Sierra Dean Fantasy