Sharp ran a finger over the sun on her chest. “If what you say is true, then I have a duty to help.” She looked at Willow sympathetically. “We can at least hear them out.”

Gold-and-Silver looked at me like a jewel for sale in a case. “Do you know much about Pyrite? Are you close?”

I shook my head. “I only just met him two days ago.”

“Do you know who your paternal grandfather is?”

I blinked in surprise. That was not the question I expected. “No… Does it matter?”

“It matters alright.” He smiled, full of drama. “Your grandfather is King Obsidian.”

Chapter Nine

Creation and Death

Everyone responded with stunned silence, except Willow, who was too expressive for his own good. “What? No way! Get out… You’re saying little Badger here is a prince!?” He twirled to my side and started poking me in the stomach.

“Do you want to keep your teeth?” I snapped, heart racing. “I’m not a prince, it doesn’t work that way but⁠—"

Sharp interrupted, with the exact questions I was thinking. “The king is Pyrite’s father? We had no idea. Why would his parents keep this from him?”

“Maybe they thought it was of no consequence.” Ivory pushed back her hair, revealing an ear with seven white hoops. “Prince is a meaningless title. Only the Pantheon have rights to the throne.”

I started to say something, but my words jumbled up in my mouth and refused to come out.

Ivory softened. “It looks like you’re getting a lot of information at once, but there’s more to this story. After your exam, there are some things you ought to see. Will you stay to hear us out?”

Willow held his wind scarf close to his chest. “We didn’t come here to join your little brigade. I need to know for certain: Can you help us save Pyrite or not?”

Ivory offered a curious look. The orange thickness whispered to us, not with words, but something else. There was no doubt in my mind she wanted Pyrite to be safe, but Willow didn’t feel it.

“Certainly,” she said. “You have my word.”

His mouth formed a straight line, and he nodded with reluctance.

Gold-and-Silver led us up a narrow staircase that twisted all the way to the top, an intricate vine of green leaves and golden flowers painted along the spiral railing. The interior of the Ghost Tree smelled of damp wood and dead leaves.

Willow grumbled under his breath, “I’m still not convinced we’re making the right choice. Don’t you think it feels like we’re being recruited?”

Sharp kept her voice low. “Not to me. I trust the doctor, and I’m inclined to trust the others too. I can’t really explain it.”

“I know what you mean,” agreed Piranha, pupils circular in the dim stairway. “Like Divine forces at work.”

An arched doorway opened to a semicircle room. High shelves were stacked with City medical equipment, all silver, gold, and crystal. A reclining hospital chair was installed in the center, and a collection of smelly liquids boiled and brewed at a crowded table. Gold-and-Silver made a weak attempt to clear some clutter from the ground.

“Sorry about the mess. This isn’t my usual office.” His eyes flickered between colors, and his expression flickered between sincerity and mischief. “I wasn’t trying to overhear your conversation, but your voice really carries.”

Willow sulked on the doorframe. “I’m trying to figure out why everyone is treating Ivory like a goddess or something.”

The doctor smirked. “It’s not quite that far. Your friends trust Ivory because of the power she wields.” He patted the back of the reclined chair. “Badger, if you wouldn’t mind, have a seat. Since you came all this way for an exam, it’s the least I can do in exchange for your help.”

I moved to sit, but Willow stopped me.

“Whoa whoa whoa. Exchange for what help? What are you saying? Is her power manipulating them?”

“Nobody is manipulating anyone, young nomad.” He pulled a few bags of seasoned mushrooms from a shelf and handed one to each of us, then gestured to a stack of dusty, mismatched cushions by the wall. “Sit. I can fill in some missing pieces.”

Willow didn’t sit. “Explain how a power that enforces trust is anything other than manipulation.”

Sharp, however, fell backwards on the cushion and let out a huge sigh. “Isn’t it obvious? She’s in the Pantheon.”

Gold-and-Silver indicated the door, where the symbol of the Goddess’s hands was carved and painted deep red. “Listen well, little creatures,” he intoned. “I’m going to teach you all a lesson about the Dark.”

On the inside, Ghost Trees were the color of dark chocolate and damp to the touch. It was a great living being, and I could almost hear a breath moving through the entire shelter, a hum of life.

Gold-and-Silver reached into a wooden crate and emerged with an armful of golden coils, bouncing and rattling. He unraveled them as he unraveled a story:

“In the beginning, Creation and Death were alone in the world, with nothing else but love between them. A love that could never be, the way one side of a coin can never truly be with the other. They accepted this truth and used their love to create humanity.” He paused as he wrapped a coil of gold wire over my index finger.

“Everyone has heard that story,” mumbled Willow, taking the tiniest bites of salted mushroom.

“Just let the man speak,” Piranha growled.

“Actually, it’s quite alright,” Gold said, putting more ticklish wires on my hand. “The Dark is isolated from the world sometimes, so I’m open to other perspectives about this history. It helps me paint a bigger picture of the Truth.”

“My moms never called them Creation and Death, but the Goddess and the Reaper,” I contributed, feeling the thin yet heavy wire on my fingers. “The Goddess wore a cloak of light, and the Reaper one of night.”

“That’s a common version,” he acknowledged. “After the Goddess created humanity, she created all the flora and fauna, including beautiful golden fields of wheat stretching for miles across the Valley. Despite these gifts, the humans were unhappy, so the Reaper took his scythe and cut down all the wheat. The angry Goddess poured water from the sky so the wheat would grow back, but the humans continued to cut it to make bread. The bread made the humans happy, and the wheat became stronger with each harvest. When the Goddess saw that the Reaper’s actions gave the human’s purpose, she fell in love. They worked together to make the rest of the Vast United Continent, taking turns making changes, creating a more beautiful version with each passing day.”

He scanned my friends, as if to make sure they were listening. “You seem well traveled, Willow. Do you know the history of the two kingdoms?”

“Course I do,” he said with a crooked, dopey grin. “But you tell it, like Pir said. I’ll correct you if you get it wrong.”

“Heh. Alright kid.” The doctor slapped a pair of tinted glasses on his face and tapped my shoe. “If you don’t mind, I need to connect this to your feet as well.”

I kicked my shoes off and wiggled my toes. “All yours doc.”

Gold-and-Silver untangled the cold wires, and continued the story as he wrapped my ankles. “The lovers separated the continent, one on either side, and gifted most of their powers to the humans. Death made the humans mortal, like the plants and animals, so they would better appreciate their gifts and the world at large. Creation granted them the ability to produce other humans, so they would feel more love for one another. Death made the Ghost Trees, to tie his spirit to the physical world, while Creation tied hers to the spires in the Northern Plateau.”

An intense look came over him. “But soon humanity began to show its flaws. Power. Hatred. Sin. Creation and Death decided to dip their divine hands into the affairs of humankind, creating the Divine Pantheon.”

He stopped fiddling with the coils and pulled a dusty book from a high shelf, opening it to precisely the right page. “These were replicas of the Goddess and the Reaper’s great power, crafts created to improve humanity.” He held the book in front of me, indicating the numbered list in the bottom corner:

The Divine Pantheon