To fight fire with fire.
"So," Victoria said carefully, "you are a demon."
Her tone was precise. No accusation. Just taxonomy.
"Like Buné?"
I glanced at him. We were seated in what Mr. Lucius called a study, though calling it that felt like an insult to the hilltop library the twins and I used to sneak into as children. This room wasn't built for reading—it was built for decisions.
"Buné," Mr. Lucius echoed, lifting his coffee cup. "I can see the similarities you're drawing."
He drank. Let the silence stretch. Enjoyed it.
"So?" Victoria pressed.
He smiled faintly. "Do you want to know how to find the thirty pieces of silver," he asked, "or would you prefer an interview?"
"Both," Victoria muttered—and then immediately regretted answering so honestly.
"Hm." He leaned back. "A mortal made a deal with me. Paid up front."
"Who was—" she began.
His hand rose. She stopped.
"The mud is less patient than when we were present earlier," he said, fingers resting on an oddly shaped paperweight. "It is…watching."
Not patient, I thought, glancing toward the window that overlooked the forested slope.
"What can we do?" Victoria asked, exhaling.
"I will do nothing," Mr. Lucius replied, selecting a piece of cake.
Victoria blinked. "Nothing?"
"For even though our stations differ," he said mildly, "we are both at the zenith of the mountain."
I looked at Victoria.
She looked at me.
Neither of us understood, which meant it mattered.
A knock interrupted us.
Zara entered first, Halle beside her, followed by Miss Lakshmi—and Ezra, now in a suit, because of course he was.
"What happened?" Miss Lakshmi asked as she accepted a seat without waiting for an answer.
"So," she continued a moment later, tea in hand, "sentient mud."
"Yes," I said.
She hummed. "And here I thought meeting a Valkyrie in an active warzone was impressive."
Victoria froze. "A Valkyrie?"
Miss Lakshmi sipped her gyokuro, crossing her legs. "The world has mana. Under the right conditions, myth crystallizes."
"What conditions?" Victoria asked.
"A battlefield," Miss Lakshmi said. "Sufficient mana. And a war that lasts twenty years or more."
Silence.
"There are wars that long," I said quietly.
"Indeed." Miss Lakshmi smiled thinly. "But that won't help you."
"Then what will?" Victoria asked, irritation bleeding through.
Mr. Lucius handed her a book.
"Lunch," Ezra announced, opening the door in the same breath.
Victoria barely noticed. She read while eating, murmuring under her breath like someone assembling a spell out of broken glass.
Afterward, we returned to the study.
"Well?" Mr. Lucius asked, settling into his chair. "What have you decided?"
Victoria laughed—once. Sharp. Nervous.
"The Furies."
She swallowed.
"The Erinyes. The Eumenides. The Kindly Ones."
Mr. Lucius's brow rose.
"How is she planning to get them?" I wondered.
"Who are they?" I asked aloud.
Victoria read.
"They were born when the blood of the castrated Uranus struck the Earth."
"They were born from a crime that had no judge," she added
I stared. "That answers nothing."
"They predate the Olympians," she continued. "Which makes them…older. More legalistic."
"They are guilt given form," Mr. Lucius added. "Blood-feud. Retribution."
"Oh," I said faintly. "So that's all."
Victoria nodded, eyes bright, unsteady. "The crimes have a pattern. Betrayal. Payment. Blood. The Erinyes punish betrayal."
She stood.
Drained her coffee.
Closed her eyes.
The air didn't shift.
It condensed.
Three shadows fell across me.
Hair writhed—living snakes, hissing softly.
"Like Medusa," I whispered.
"Yes," Victoria murmured, already sinking back into her chair.
Their eyes wept blood. It stained the floor, the air, the idea of the room.
Black wings unfolded—vast, soot-colored, heavy with ash.
"They can track a target across continents," Mr. Lucius said calmly, "without rest."
They carried whips studded with brass. Burning torches.
Their clothing was short, coarse, black—meant for pursuit, not ceremony—stiff with ancient blood that smelled of copper and soil.
Their footsteps make no sound.
"Tisiphone," Victoria said. "Punisher of kin-slayers."
"Megaera," she continued. "Punisher of oath-breakers."
Alecto's shadow fell last.
"Punisher of crimes of the soul."
The room felt denser. Like gravity had been offended.
"Just three," I breathed, relief slipping out before I could stop it.
"No," Mr. Lucius corrected gently. "Just three here."
"They are called the Kindly Ones for a reason," he added, looking at Victoria. "And you summoned the wrong aspect."
Her face drained.
"You wanted the Eumenides," he continued. "You called the Erinyes."
He scribbled something down, annoyed but intrigued.
"Prepare to be their Athena when the time comes."
The Erinyes stood like chained hounds.
Waiting.
I didn't understand everything.
But I understood this:
We had found a solution.
And like all good solutions, it was already planning how to become a problem.