Soren began to tell them what I’d told him, about Lydian, about the end of the world and how it was caused, about the plan not to let it happen no matter what. Those who originally knew something was up didn’t look surprised as Soren revealed detail after secret detail, and those who didn’t know anything had jaws that became slightly more slacked, eyes that widened a little more, and faces that changed color for the briefest of moments. Satu, as I predicted, was not fazed by the news, instead only narrowing her eyes in thought.

Self-hatred wafted from Soren, and I tasted it on my tongue, in the back of my throat. It vibrated in me like I was the one feeling it. Despite our talk, he was still angry at himself for the cosmic fate he’d been given, as if any of it was his fault in the first place. It was only natural and definitely not something I could judge since I wallowed in it for the better part of a century, but it was something I ached to feel in him. Especially since I knew how dangerous it was.

But he had me, and I’d be damned if I’d let him get anywhere near the level of self-loathing I’d gone through.

Even after Soren spoke, the others still silently processed his words. He looked at me, almost helplessly, and I stroked his hand reassuringly. This would be okay. It would all be okay.

As usual, Seppo was the first one to break the silence. “You’re not … you’re not considering bringing Lydian back, are you?” His response reminded me of someone being informed a murderer had been asked to a casual dinner.

I folded my hands in front of me. “Not exactly. See, we need him in the current state he is. Not dead and crossed over completely, but also not living. That way, he inhabits a liminal space.”

“And we need him in a liminal space because…?” Seppo pressed.

“We’ve deduced one of the few ways—perhaps the only way—to stop Ragnarök before it begins is to stop Fimbulwinter from starting. Fimbulwinter lasts three years and won’t spare us any more than it will humans. Thousands will die from famine, plague, and at the hands of others. Those left over will be what’s left to fight in Ragnarök. To stop Fimbulwinter, we have to kill Fjalar. His cries start Fimbulwinter in the first place. But he’s a liminal being. We need another liminal being to guide us through the realms to find him.”

“Janneke still can’t access the liminal realm by herself,” Diaval said, “much less bring us all there. And while I managed to push her in there for twenty minutes to speak to Lydian’s specter, I won’t be able to do the same for everyone here for even a quarter of that length.”