“One of the devourers,” Amelia corrected. “There are as many Nameless Ends as there are endings. I’m not sure which specific flavor of destruction Algonquin’s hooked up with, but if he was crafty and patient enough to get this much of himself into a healthy plane, he’s not going to stop until he gets the rest. According to Raven, Algonquin was the only one holding him back. Now that she’s freaked out, I have a feeling we’re going to discover exactly what sort of end we’re up against.”
“I fear the worst,” Raven said sadly. “Algonquin would never barter with something that couldn’t get her the total new beginning she needs to return this world to the spirits. If the Nameless End plays her fair, he’ll scrub every living creature off the face of our plane. If he’s playing her for a fool, which is what I suspect, he’ll eat her and use her vessel as a platform to eat everything else, leaving our reality an empty husk.”
“Then we have to stop him,” Marci said. “I know Nameless Ends are serious business, but the fact that we’re here having this conversation proves that he hasn’t gotten enough of himself inside our plane to start the carnage yet. If the only thing he’s eaten so far is Algonquin, then we’re still sitting pretty. She might have been the biggest spirit around sixty years ago, but she’s nothing these days. I mean, look at us.” She waved her hand across all the fantastic, beautiful, stupidly magical creatures sitting at the table. “We’re packing a lot of firepower, some of us literally. If it’s all of us versus Algonquin-plus-one, that’s not even a contest.”
“Assuming we can fight it,” Emily said. “We’re still talking about a being who lives in the void between worlds. We don’t know what it’s made of or how it works. We don’t even know if we can hurt it.”
“Actually, I think Marci’s onto something,” Amelia said, tapping her sharp nails on the table. “As strong as Nameless Ends can be, this one’s still an interloper. The Nameless Ends are scavengers. They prey on the weaknesses of dying planes, not healthy ones. The only reason this one was able to get inside at all is because he tricked Algonquin into letting him use her as a foothold. You can’t kill a Nameless End because they’re forces of the universe, but if we can find a way to dislodge him from Algonquin, we’ll destroy his anchor to this world. Once that’s gone, the natural defenses of our otherwise healthy plane should be able to force him back out with no further help from us.”
“Like a body defeating an infection,” Marci said, nodding. “That’s fantastic. All we have to do is defeat Algonquin, and our problem’s solved.”
“But Algonquin’s already defeated,” Raven said sadly. “That’s how this started. She’s already given up and turned her water over to that thing because she’d rather die than lose. We can’t beat her any lower than she’s already gone. I don’t even know if she’s alive anymore, and I didn’t think spirits could die.”
The table fell silent as he finished. Marci poked her empty plate, trying to think of something that might turn this around. Then, out of nowhere, Amelia said, “We could wait for Bob.”
Chelsie snorted. “That’s your plan?”
“It’s been my plan my entire life,” Amelia said stubbornly, lifting her chin. “You think he didn’t know this was coming? He’s a seer. He’s been working on this for centuries.”
“Okay,” Chelsie said, crossing her arms in front of her daughter, who’d fallen asleep in her lap after she’d finished her second pizza. “What’s his plan, then?”
Amelia bit her lip. “I… don’t know,” she said after a long pause. “Knowing your future changes it, so he couldn’t tell me anything past my death, but I know he’ll come through. He’s never let us down before.”
Chelsie looked away. “Speak for yourself.”
“Would you knock it off?” Amelia growled. “Your secret’s out, Chelsie. We all know that mess in China was entirely your own making. You’ve been blaming everything on Bob for centuries, but he wasn’t the one who panicked and bolted. Bob could have just let the Empress Mother kill you, but no. He pulled a miracle out of his ear and got Bethesda to China to beg for your life. It’s thanks to him that you’re still alive to hold your grudge. How can you be so ungrateful?”
Chelsie opened her mouth to retort, but Fredrick beat her to it. “Ungrateful?” he snarled, moving away from Julius to stand behind his mother. “Brohomir left us to be Bethesda’s slaves for six hundred years! He only cares about his future, not about those who suffer to create it!”
Marci leaned back in her chair. She’d never seen the normally quiet F this angry. Amelia was looking uncharacteristically pissed off as well, with dangerous curls of smoke leaking out from between her lips. The atmosphere in the kitchen was getting so tense, Marci was considering preemptively ducking under the table when Julius suddenly stood up.
“You’re both wrong.”
The whole kitchen turned to look at him. His time as clan head must have done something, though, because Julius didn’t even flinch at all when all those predatory eyes landed on him. He just stared back, and when he spoke, his voice was steady and sure.
“Bob’s not nice,” he said. “But he’s not evil, either. He’s not like Bethesda, who steps on dragons for the joy of feeling taller, but he’s also not afraid to crush us under his heel if that’s what he feels he needs to do to guarantee the future he wants. Like Fredrick, I don’t think that’s right, but it also doesn’t mean that Amelia is wrong.” His green eyes flicked to Marci. “As someone very smart told me earlier today, Bob’s the reason we’re in a lot of these messes, but he’s also the one who made sure we got out, and he’s the one who brought us all together here.”
“How can you be sure of that?” Fredrick asked angrily. “No offense, Great Julius, but we’re cowering in a hovel while an enemy we may not even be able to fight is coming to power above our heads. If this was truly the work of a seer and not mere chance, where is our advantage? Where are our weapons and our armies? Why would Brohomir put us through all of this just to leave us stranded and desperate now?”
“I don’t know,” Julius said. “But I’m certain this is Bob’s work, because she”—he pointed across the table at General Jackson—“is the Phoenix, and Bob told me ages ago that I would have lunch with the Phoenix on my birthday.” His face split into a smile as he turned back to Fredrick. “Don’t you see? This is all Bob’s plan. Yes, we’re trapped, but we’re trapped together. All of us are here in this house because of Bob’s meddling. He’s the one who arranged to bring Marci back from the dead, and he’s the one who finally fixed our troubles with the Qilin.”
“Both of which were problems he caused,” Chelsie growled. “I’m not going to praise him for wagging the dog.”
“Did he?” Julius asked, turning to face her. “Did Bob tell you to run from the Qilin? Did he tell you to lie when Xian asked you why?”