And Justin was honest enough with himself to know why he’d given into her Arcadia request: because despite all that had fallen out between him, there was still something about her that left him breathless and weak in the knees. He might run away from her regard . . . yet he hypocritically longed for it too. And that longing was strong enough that he’d agreed to the trip without extracting any other promises or badgering her about her reasons.
The ravens’ reasons . . . well, that was something he needed to investigate.
He had his ego out before he even reached the elevators. “Call Demetrius Devereaux.”
Fifteen minutes later, Justin was in a café two blocks away, finishing a cup of coffee when his contact arrived. Demetrius Devereaux might be his legal name, but he called himself Geraki, a name that meant “Hawk,” and asked that others did as well. Justin had known him for years because the servitor’s office had been trying to implicate him as the leader of an illicit religious group. It was only in the last few months that Justin had finally gotten proof of Geraki’s allegiance and the god he served. The problem was that Justin could hardly tell the authorities, seeing as Justin occasionally served the same god now and obtained guidance—often in the form of cryptic messages—from Geraki.
“Justin,” said Geraki cheerfully. “So glad you’re back. I always worry when you’re away, not that I should when you travel in such excellent company.” He pulled a bottle of water out of his backpack, some elitist brand with a label declaring it “all-natural,” not that water could be much else. Geraki maintained what he said was a pure state of living in order to hear the voice of Odin, abstaining from caffeine, alcohol, women, and pretty much anything else fun. “I knew you’d be back this time, though. I have a message for you. From our master.”
Justin sighed and slouched into his chair. “I had a feeling you might. That’s why I called you.”
Geraki tsked. “If you would just fully commit to our god, he would speak to you himself. You wouldn’t have to wait for me or your feathered intermediaries.”
Justin glanced around the crowded coffee shop uneasily. “Don’t say that word.”
“Feathered?”
“You know which word. And I don’t want him talking to me directly. I have no desire to go through the rigors you do.”
Geraki straightened up in his chair. “I’m a prophet. I not only hear his voice, I may call upon it—a privilege which is not given lightly. You, as a priest, don’t have such easy access, but he would speak to you in dreams if you’d only be more cooperative. Or, you could be gifted with some relic to facilitate communication.”
“Well, we can have that discussion for the hundredth time some other day. Tell me what the message about Arcadia is.”
Geraki raised his eyebrows. “Arcadia? Ah, that makes sense. The vision that came to me last night was that you’d be going into a hostile land and that you would not be going alone.”
“I know that,” snapped Justin, irritated as always at the asinine nature of prophecies. “What I want to know is what he finds so interesting there. The ravens support the trip, so I assume he has an ulterior motive.”
“It’s Thought and Memory that have driven you to me, hmm? Well, they do know our master’s mind.”
Flattering, said Magnus. But no one can truly know it. We are simply more privileged with insight than you two.
Justin didn’t bother correcting Geraki. “Was there anything else? Basically what you described could be any of my other jobs. What’s so special about this one, aside from the magnitude?”
Geraki shook his head. “That’s not for me to know—or even deal with. Our master has left it to you. He says there is a force there that threatens his plans and that you must eliminate it.”
“Eliminate it?” Justin nearly dropped his cup. “I accept that I might be able to sneak in some investigations to check out the religious scene there, but I’m certainly not there to make some decisive strike.”
Geraki met his gaze levelly. “He says it affects our country as well. If you feel no loyalty to him yet, surely that will persuade you.”
“Those types of threats are for people like Mae and the other military to deal with. I’m there to observe—nothing more. Unless, by chance, you have any specific details about this threat?”
Geraki shook his head, which didn’t surprise Justin in the least, and then said almost hesitantly, “In my vision, I saw a golden eagle.”
Justin waited expectantly, but nothing else came. “That’s not particularly helpful.”
I don’t suppose that means anything to you guys? he asked the ravens.
No, admitted Horatio. Except that eagles are arrogant.
And, added Magnus, that if Odin sent his prophet a vision about it, it is a dire matter, one you should be taking seriously.
Give me more details, and we’ll talk.
But the ravens had none to give, and Justin could only write it all off as another part of the frustration of working with gods.
“At least go in prepared,” Geraki told him. “Have your weapons ready.”
“I don’t use weapons either,” said Justin.
“You know what I mean,” Geraki told him. “You’ve learned many of Odin’s secrets from me, from the ravens.”
It was true to a certain extent. In the last couple of months, Justin had unwillingly received a crash course in Odin’s lore and the Nordic runes: the mystical symbols his followers used both for guidance and spellcasting. It was part of the oath Justin had taken to learn such things, and his quick mind couldn’t help but take it in. But he’d gone out of his way not to put what he’d learned into any sort of practical application, aside from the charm that had hidden him as one of the elect in Nassau.
“Learning isn’t the same as practicing,” said Justin. “And I’m doing just fine with the former.”
Geraki sighed and crossed his muscled arms over his equally bulky chest. “Then you’re a fool. If a god told me I was walking into danger, I’d take every precaution necessary.”
“I don’t need him to tell me. And I’ve got more faith in our military than him, I’m afraid.”
“You’re a fool,” Geraki repeated.
The words had little effect on Justin, seeing as he heard them pretty regularly during their meetings. Geraki always spoke them with a kind of grudging fondness, though, like Justin were simply an unruly child. After a few more ominous words from Geraki, Justin was able to ascertain that the other man truly knew nothing more about Arcadia. The ravens didn’t either, save that Odin had a task in mind. Satisfied he’d get nothing else, Justin took another cup of coffee to go and then headed back to his office to meet up with Mae for the briefing.
Fortunately, she was back in business mode and made no mention of her earlier pleadings or subsequent gratitude. Over in the senate, they were led to a conference room filled with a dozen men and women in suits and several black-uniformed praetorians. Mae didn’t let down her guard as she and Justin took seats near the end of a long table, but he saw her flash a smile to many of the praetorians, who smiled in return. Conversation buzzed around them in small clusters, with no one really taking charge of the meeting. It wasn’t until ten minutes after the start time that Lucian burst in with aides and security trailing in his wake.