The moment the words escaped, he recalled what Darkyn had said.
There were days when he wanted to talk to past-Death like this, but he never would. He didn't quite feel calm enough to take a gentler approach.
Gabriel tried to leave by a different direction only for the wall to pop up again.
Reining in his anger, he went back to the Lake and sat beside it. It took a few minutes for his frustration to subside, and he shook his shoulders free.
"I'm here and I'm listening," he said with difficulty. "Right now, my friends are in danger. I need you to talk to me. Somehow."
He waited.
The Lake said nothing.
Gabriel sat back against a boulder. Every part of his being screamed at him to leave, to help Rhyn and his mate and Deidre.
But he stayed. Darkyn's wise words circulated through his emotions, assuring him that his domain was trying to work with him, not make his life worse. The underworld wanted to show him something, and he was going to figure out what.
Hopefully without losing those I care about.
"There's over a ninety nine percent chance that you'll need a succession plan before this is over."
Darkyn ignored the deity Fate, intent on getting as close as possible to the palace to assess what it'd take to conquer Harmony's forces. He had nothing but cold dispassion for the living forest and its lost master. With a healthy respect for Gabriel as Death's top assassin, Darkyn was waiting for the newly turned god to realize his power and end the disorder of his domain.
A rebellion in Hell would be met with nothing short of the crushing might of Hell. It would never be permitted to grow this far out of control.
"Same chance I gave you of ever getting your mate," Fate added.
"So clearly you've been wrong before. You will be again," Darkyn snapped.
"Except you knew coming here that something was going to happen."
Darkyn paused and turned to face the deity with golden skin and eyes of ever-changing hues. "It's always a risk."
"There's more to lose this time."
"I don't lose."
"Except for the first time you tried to takeover Hell and then the human world," Fate pointed out.
Darkyn had never understood how his father, Zamon, was on such good terms with a creature that knew neither discipline, war nor self-sacrifice for the sake of victory. He barely tolerated the godling and did so only because it was generally expected that deities gave each other the courtesy of speaking before acting. He'd seen how his own mate was played by Fate and had more reason not to trust the youthful deity.