“It’s your title,” he says. “The name of the one who can turn souls into coins and offer them safe passage into Spirit.”

“It’s not my title. I’m not the Eurydice,” I counter.

He shrugs. “You say tomato, I say to-mah-to. A resurrection coin means two things: you either got it from the black market, or you created it. So far, you have demonstrated virtually no knowledge of the death-speaker world, so forgive me for coming to the alternate conclusion that you are the Eurydice.”

I uncurl myself from my position in the booth and lean forward, wiping sweaty palms on my jeans. I need to know more about the Eurydice without giving myself away. “You said the Eurydice can turn souls into coins, that she’s supposed to offer safe passage into Spirit. How?”

“She summons the Adamantine Gates and offers the coin to Charon, the gatekeeper.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait,” I say, holding up my hands. This is too much. “Charon? The ferryman from Greek myth?”

“The very one. Except he’s not a ferryman. He’s a gatekeeper. Always has been, always will be.”

A flash from my dream flickers in the back of my mind. A gate. No. It’s not possible. I stare at Thane for what seems like an eternity, waiting for him to say this is all a joke.

“I can’t really blame them for looking for you,” Thane says. “You’ve been gone so long…you’re practically responsible for creating Influence.”

Influence. That was what he called the thing that possessed Sean. Is it also what corrupted my poppa? I can’t be responsible for that.

“I can’t believe I’m the first one to discover the Eurydice,” Thane says, almost to himself.

“What?” I realize Thane’s already made his mind up that I’m the Eurydice. For now, I’m going to let it go in favor of learning more. “How am I responsible for that?”

“You didn’t incarnate for seventy years. Lost souls can’t move into Spirit, so they just stay. You know what their energy is like. It does crazy things to people, and it feeds darklings—monsters—and death-speaker magic. It also spawns new darklings, and all those darklings create Influence.”

“Why didn’t the Eurydice incarnate?”

“Remember how curfew began? With all those murders? Well, it started with the Eurydice’s murder. They say, as punishment, Charon dissolved the gates and prevented the Eurydice from incarnating.”

“But…why would he choose to let her incarnate now?”

Thane shrugs. “Things are pretty bad, Anora. Just turn on the news—plane crashes and riots and natural disasters. It’s all Influence. The more chaos, the more doubt, the stronger Influence gets.”

It feels like Thane just placed the weight of the world on my shoulders. Being responsible for Lily’s death is hard enough, but suddenly I’m also responsible for every bad thing happening in the world?