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I scowled. “The human woman who captured you. Hello? She stuffed you into a lantern because she wanted to take your power?”

“Oh! The tacky dresser with the pompous attitude. Yes. About that. I’m not sure if I annihilated her, after all. I was very upset, mind you, but it’s also possible that she whisked herself away just in the nick of time. You know how magic is, flashy colors, blinding lights, and all. Who can keep track?”

That all but confirmed that Paralumen was still out there. But where were her magpies? Had she lost all her followers? Was she hiding in some dark corner, licking her wounds?

I rolled my eyes and stalked away from the store, frustrated and annoyed, wanting to be anywhere else. I was exhausted, and the Goddess of the Valley could still be out there. I made a beeline for a bus stop, parking my butt on a cold metal bench.

And then I groaned. This time Freyja was on the side of a bus, of all things, its exterior wet with evening condensation. There she reclined in all her magnified, colossal glory, the passengers oblivious to her presence.

“From a pretender god to a god who pretends. Such amusing problems seem to hound your every step, Jericho Frost.”

“There’s three of you now. It’s not very amusing at this point.”

The older woman occupying the other half of the bench gave me the side-eye as she scooted away from the man who was talking to the side of a bus.

“Well, I hope you know that I cannot intervene on your behalf,” Bus-Freyja said. “And neither would I be willing to. It would cause far too much drama in my pantheon. There would be unpleasant — no, catastrophic consequences. And you and I just don’t know each other like that.”

“Oh.”

She smiled. “Yet. Not yet, at least.”

I kneaded my forehead, desperate for a drink. God, I was still parched from when Morrow had done that cute, annoying pouty thing that turned my mouth dry. I dragged myself over to the tantalizing glow of a vending machine, studying its rows of canned drinks and snacks, surprised when I found myself quietly hoping that Freyja would follow. Her apparition in miniature materialized, hovering up and across the glass, as if following where my eyes were going.

“A can of iced coffee this late? Are we sure that’s such a good idea, Jericho?”

I shrugged. “I mean, what can it hurt at this point? I’m tired. I’m thirsty. And I think I have a headache coming on.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “A normal one, or the kind that arises from too much magical duplication?”

So she knew about the fragmentation. I didn’t answer. I just watched her in the glass.

“It doesn’t always have to be that way, you know. Of course, it could be worse. Copying mortal magic is one thing. Copying divine magic? Now that’s a feat that will leave your head pounding for days.”

I didn’t think my throat could get any drier. I licked my lips. “You really think that’s something I can do?”

“Who knows? Perhaps if you tried hard enough. Perhaps if you knew a certain benevolent goddess who might be curious enough about your talents to help you try. You’re only going up against another god, after all.”

I bit my lower lip. Copying regular spellcasting offered me plenty of tools and firepower already. But actually duplicating a god’s magic? I couldn’t imagine. Could my limits truly stretch that far? What if I stretched them too far? Would I snap? I was only human after all.

Still. We were only going up against another god, after all.

Freyja watched me with quiet intent as I tapped my card against the vending machine’s reader. I pressed the button for a can of iced coffee. Nothing. I banged on the machine with the heel of my palm. Something fell into the dispenser, rattling with a glassy clunk.

“Ah, ah,” Freyja said. “No coffee for you. Not this late in the evening. Very bad for your sleep hygiene.”

I frowned as I reached into the slot. I knew it. Barely an hour of me giving her the time of day and my designated meddling goddess was already fully meddling. My fingers closed around something cool, hard, and smooth. I pulled out an orange gemstone, like amber, only harder and heavier, the color of marmalade sealed under glass.

“Should you find yourself interested in an arcane education, then feel free to call on me. Shatter the gemstone to summon me. Not in battle, mind you. It’s not like I’ll come charging to your aid. We’re not there yet.”

“Right,” I muttered. “We don’t know each other like that.”

“See? You learn fast. You’ll be an excellent student. If you choose that path, that is. Mimicking arcane magic, then learning to mimic divine magic, too? Consider it a double major.”

“Didn’t like school,” I grumbled. “Not sure I’ll like it now.”

“Suit yourself. But speaking of gemstones, you’re clearly quite worried about these charms that your trickster god has scattered all over the city. You really should be speaking to some experts on enchanted jewelry.”

The vending machine’s glass showed the lady on the bench in its reflection. She was still staring at me, her handbag clutched to her chest. Maybe I was crazy. I was taking advice from a goddess, after all.