"We all have our paths," Jule said. "Doesn't mean they're easy."
"Yeah."
"Tell everyone I said hello and I'm being held hostage by one of the Others."
Darian's eyes widened. "Really?"
"It's for a good cause."
"A woman?"
"Something like that."
"Sofi said to tell you 'I told you so.'"
"Give her a hug when you get back," Jule said with a chuckle. Darian cocked his head to the side, as if hearing someone call his name.
"I gotta go," he said. "I'll see you in a couple of days. Things will get worse before they get better, but they should get better."
The Grey God disappeared, and Jule dwelled on his parting words. The Darian he remembered had never been brooding or hesitant like this man. Sadly, he realized his old friend truly had died when he became enslaved by the Black God.
Trust your instincts. Jule rubbed the back of his neck. His instincts told him the Magician was in danger-and needed to stay alive. If what the Watcher said was remotely true, she was a powerful weapon in the hands of the Others, and he had limited otherworldly ability to protect her from them. Some of his innate defensive powers remained, or she would've turned him to stone or the Other would've vaporized him.
He touched his swollen lip. He hadn't ever been without his healing powers. His thoughts darkened as he thought of leaving the Guardians defenseless to protect a woman he wasn't sure he should.
One life. It should've been so simple. He closed his eyes, remembering a time when he'd made a similar choice. He'd chosen a human over the immortal realm and been banned for it. In fact, he'd chosen a woman over his life in the immortal realm. A woman who died during the Schism. The memories surrounding his exile were deeply buried, but he did recall how pissed the immortals had been with him and wondered why his one choice mattered so much.
The Watchers must've gotten some sort of twisted pleasure out of dangling a similar situation over his head again after so long! The fate of humanity was on his shoulders, with only an innocent woman between him and his ability to help the Guardians.
"Little bastards," he muttered.
Trust your instincts. He trusted Sofi over the Watchers but couldn't help wishing the damned Oracle had been a bit more specific. If the Watchers went to Damian, and Damian wanted the Magician dead … she'd be dead. Jule would never cross one of his brothers.