Skeletal house frames, bleached bones left in the sun for many years, cast odd shadows and evoked a sense of hopelessness in Jason. Someone started building these houses because they thought there would be people to buy them. Piles of brick, wood, and rotted drywall dotted the site. Had they believed they'd resume? Were the decision makers for this development gone? This place, like the world Adrastia described, was in limbo, caught between life and death.

"We should be in Al Burj, about an hour drive east of our destination," Adrastia said. "Now we see how much Osiris intends to keep his end of the bargain. There should be a car outside the gates with plates bearing Osiris' brand. A black box in the car emits a clearance signal to any patrols. Between the plates and signal, no one should stop us. At least, that's the idea."

They weaved their way through the buildings, abandoned supplies, and seven years of detritus toward the gate. A barbed wire fence with signs warning it was electrified, enclosed the area. Jason turned to inspect the development again. This time, he saw it with different eyes. One building near the Bifrost looked only half completed, but concrete reinforced its outer wall. The piles of building supplies weren't just haphazardly placed around the site. Their positions were strategic for cover, or as projectiles with properly placed explosives. Everything was either a defensive position or a weapon against someone coming through the Bifrost. This wasn't limbo, this was h.e.l.l for any invaders from Asgard.

"Road's clear," Caelum reported.

They each drew sparingly on the Veil and launched themselves over the fence.

"s.h.i.t," Brandt cursed as a set of headlights came into view. "This time of night, it has to be a patrol."

"Everyone, huddle close," Adrastia instructed.

Jason's instinct was to resist. But Caelum, Brandt, and Marie didn't hesitate at all. They huddled close to Adrastia as though she were the only heat in an ice storm. Jason took a resigned breath and joined them.

They stood on the sidewalk, completely in the open. Every muscle in Jason's body tensed, readying to spring into battle.

But the military Humvee drove past, not even rotating the roof mounted spotlight in their direction.

No one spoke until the vehicle turned a corner three blocks down.

Jason wasn't even sure when he'd last taken a breath.

"How the h.e.l.l did that happen?" Jason kept his voice to a harsh whisper.

Adrastia shrugged.

"It's one of my gifts-people see me the way I want them to, even if it means they don't see me at all. Huddled close like that, I was able to spread the effect a bit. Now, if Osiris kept his word, there should be a garage just over..." She scanned the block with an outstretched finger. "There!"

They followed her across the road and down an alley where the edge of a garage door had been just visible from their position at the gate.

Jason stepped forward and drew on the Veil, unlocking the door.

Brandt gave a low whistle.

"That's a pretty expensive looking ride."

Jason had to admit, the low-slung, sleek four-door, did look impressive, and expensive. All markings kind or make had been stripped off. The only break in the car's glossy black surface was the plates-gold, marked with the style crown Osiris wore in hieroglyphs.

"It's going to be a little cramped with five of us," Marie said.

"Oh, come on Marie," Brandt said, "we've been in tighter positions."

Adrastia stepped between the two of them.

"Marie is driving, and I'll be riding shotgun. Hope you boys don't mind being cozy."

Brandt shrugged.

"I'm good as long as I get a window seat."

They maintained their speed at an even pace with the posted limits east along the coast.

"I can't believe we're going through all this trouble for some files off the internet," Brandt said. "Remember the good old days where just about every computer, phone, and game console got you logged on?"

"Those days are done," Adrastia replied. "From what I've been able to tell, they pulled the plug on the net shortly after the Cataclysm. Ignorance makes people easier to control. People depended on computers and the net so much, they submitted to rule quickly when they were lost. So few of them knew how to live without."

"So how do you know the files you want will still be intact?" Jason asked.

Adrastia didn't answer immediately, just stared out the window at the world pa.s.sing.

"I don't," she finally answered. "At least, not for certain. But I do know Osiris. Information is power. There's no way he would allow something so valuable to be destroyed or tampered with. I imagine access is heavily restricted, but owning so much valuable and unique information would be too much of a bragging point for him to let go."

This was no deception, she knew it was true. Osiris was precisely the sort of person to horde knowledge. Even now she recalled his tears as the original library of Alexandria burned. Of course, the destruction happened in stages, between accidents and invasions. An odd thing, knowledge. Men who'd sworn to never fight, who'd been branded everything from old, broken, or cowards, didn't think twice about plunging into flames to save some ancient tome they valued. With cries of "humanity must know," or "this book will change the world," they threw away their lives-only to have some of those books used to enslave or further spread ignorance. Yes, knowledge was an interesting, and dangerous, thing.

But would the files be there? She'd heard the internet archives were copies of the entirety of the searchable internet, but what if the files were in the deep web?

She shook her head at the absurdity of her thought, then stopped herself, self-consciously checking to see if the others had noticed her internal struggle. Thankfully, they all seemed to be wrapped in their own thoughts. Not surprising-this was their world after all. And for all of them, it was the first time they'd returned since being cut off years ago. They had to wonder about others who'd been left behind-or those who didn't survive.

But her own thoughts returned to the files. Deep web? No, he would never allow his notes to become so obscure. They'd questioned his research methods-and justifiably so-but he never wavered in his desire to make history accessible. If only she'd paid more attention years ago. Her last contact with him involved a myriad of questions about Delphic prophecies and her time amongst the Nords. Old, mad, Herodotus, trying to piece together the true history after thousands of years. She'd answered his questions and then dismissed their conversation within minutes of its end. A little more attention-more time spent in the world instead of playing at being part myth, part imaginary friend-and this information would be accessible in her mind.

"We're here," Marie said, breaking the group from their collective revelries. "Where should I park?"

"There," Adrastia pointed toward the parking lot of the University of Alexandria. "It's the least conspicuous spot and all we have to do is cross the street."

Marie made a left into the lot, parked, and killed the engine.

"Was it just me, or did anyone else notice the lack of patrols that whole time?" she asked.

Adrastia was out of the car before anyone could reply, making her way across the street toward their final destination-the Biblotheca Alexandrina.

The architects intended the main exterior wall to look like a sun rising over a beautiful pool. They'd carved words in numerous scripts from around the world. It was meant to be a thing of inspiration, a beacon of light for the enlightenment of humankind. Quarter-moon light splaying across the wall made it look far more sinister. Instead of being inspiring, the shadows playing over the carved words made the various shapes crawl and slither like nightmare beasts waiting for prey.

The others jumped from the car in pursuit.

"Adrastia," Jason called in a harsh whisper. "Are you insane? What if there're patrols?"

She ignored him and walked across the street without any attempt to conceal her presence.

They bypa.s.sed the front entrance and made their way around the side of the building, working toward service entrances.

Adrastia stood aside from one door and motioned with her hand that Jason should work his magic.

He popped the lock, and they all filed inside.

Jason grabbed Adrastia's shoulder.

"Seriously," he hissed, "have you decided just to try and get us killed? That was some stunt just strolling across a major road without even checking for patrols."

Adrastia shrugged his hand away.

"Marie was right, there have been no patrols. None since the first-and-only one we saw in Al Burj. And I doubt they were a true patrol, they were just doing wide circles, waiting to see if the car was gone."

"So either Osiris is making things easy for us, ensuring he fulfills his end of your bargain..."

"Or he's trying to lull us into thinking that way before sending a large a.s.sault force after us," Adrastia finished.

"I'm starting to doubt we're ready for this," Jason said. "We only prepared for a certain amount of resistance."

Adrastia walked away from him, toward the main library.

"We won't know," she called over her shoulder, "until it's all over."

"Whoa, look at this place."

They'd entered the main concourse area. Caelum's mouth hung slightly ajar as he took in the eleven cascading floors of books and reading areas.

"Shelf s.p.a.ce for eight million books, a conference center, several other smaller specialty libraries, four museums, four art galleries, a planetarium and even a lab for restoring old ma.n.u.scripts," Adrastia recited. "A palace dedicated to enlightenment."

She scanned the floors and then looked back to the sloping skylight.

"We should go to the lowest level," she suggested. "It'll reduce the chance of us being seen from the windows."

"It also means we'll be cut off from the exits," Jason said.

Adrastia did not respond, just made her way down the stairs.

"I don't think she likes you," Brandt said.

"The feeling's mutual."

Jason knelt down, running his hand along the floor, then inspected the walls separating each level as well.

"At least she wasn't wrong about the construction of the place-lots of concrete in here, Brandt. I think our exit strategy is good."

Brandt stretched out his arms, locked his fingers, and pressed them forward into a loud crack.

"Oh, I can do that and a whole lot more."

"Good. Marie, patrol the perimeter. Caelum, head to higher ground-you're our sniper."

Jason took the steps two at a time, catching up with Adrastia at the lowest level.

"I can't promise you'll find this useful," she said without taking her eyes from the screen. "But I'll give you a copy. There's a laptop back on Asgard for you to access the information."

Jason suppressed the urge to interrogate her as to when she visited Asgard again. In fact, he'd found himself doing nothing but having to suppress around her. He kept reminding himself it was foolish to hold a grudge about her betraying him and Gwynn to the Valkyries. After all, that might be the only reason he was alive. Maybe he would've died in that crossroads town. And she had saved most of his team...no, his friends. He tried to let that debt seep into his muscles, to loosen them and calm the storm in his gut. Her actions were questionable, but several people he cared about owed her their lives. Wasn't that enough?

"You have questions?" Adrastia asked.

He hadn't seen her eyes leave the screen. Even as she spoke to him her fingers continued to rush in a fluid stream over the keyboard.

"Seven years ago, in the bleed through, you left a note to Gwynn that said you would explain your actions."

She nodded.

"Yes, I did. The letter was addressed to Gwynn and meant for his eyes. I don't recall promising you the same thing."

Jason's fist clenched.

"Are you still angry about it, even after everything that has happened since?" she asked.

Jason took a long breath.

She saved Brandt, Marie, Jackson, and Caelum. She didn't have to, but she did. Breathe. Breathe.

"I guess, it's because I haven't seen you. I thought I'd put a lot of things behind me. But maybe it was just because I didn't have to deal with them."

She stopped typing. Biting her bottom lip, her eyes narrowed, studying him.

Adrastia turned back to the terminal, her focus and fingers returning to her task.

"I can't explain it to you fully," she said. "What I can say is I have some...insight, similar to Sophia. I couldn't fight the sense Gwynn needed to arrive on Asgard. I'm sorry to say, but you getting caught in that was just bad timing."

"You mean you're an oracle?" Jason asked.

Adrastia chuckled.

"No. I wish I could see things that clearly. I...just have a sense of how things should go. Again, I can't explain it all-"

"Or you mean you won't."

She sighed.

"I would, but Gwynn deserves those answers first. Not," she jumped on the word to prevent Jason from interrupting, "because you are less deserving, but because the answers impact Gwynn far more. Please just believe I never meant for you to come to harm. It was a risk giving the two of you to the Valkyries, but I felt it was necessary."

"Did you know what would happen? Did you know Gwynn would cause the Cataclysm?"

Adrastia's tongue darted out, moistening her lips.

"No, I didn't. That was a possibility I never...expected."

Jason took a step closer to her.

"Would you have kept him away from Asgard if you'd known?"

The steady rhythm of her fingers stumbled and fell silent.

"I...I don't know," she finally replied, and resumed typing.