“Azure will make their own ruin,” he said, glancing over his shoulder as he spoke, “and when they do, you will have the coordinates in your head. If you don’t, the secrets will die with them.”
“He’s firing a torpedo,” Myo said, his voice calm was the waters of a lagoon, his eyes trained on the scene before us.
Nol’s arms wrapped around me and his lips pressed against my hair. Tob squeezed his eyes shut, and Garren muttered the name of his child.
I looked at my mother.
It couldn’t be the end. We hadn’t even begun to know each other.
One of the sea creatures, a long snake-like one with a swirl of fins, seized the torpedo and began to swim back toward the ship.
The explosion belched black smoke into the blue. I shut my eyes as the others erupted in cheers of disbelief.
Berg said, with the air of a sage, “They don’t call it Perilous for nothing.”
Nautilus’s ship began to sink, a broken vessel, and my mother stepped forward and pressed her hands to my face with joy.
~ ~ ~
Later, I stood in the sunlight with Nol, absorbing what had happened.
“We were not far from these waters when we returned to Verdus from the Dron-Itlantean alliance,” Nol mused. “Perhaps that is why the ship was attacked? Not an Azure plot?”
I shook my head in wonderment. “Tob... those creatures... I can barely believe any of this.”
Nautilus was dead. Azure was rotting from the inside out. Tempest’s leader had been killed at Primus.
But.
Itlantis still needed so much work. I looked at the lush trees and flowers around me, visible through the open doors of the building we stood in, and wished I never had to leave this place and go beneath the waves again.
Nol touched my shoulder, a light caress that drew my mind away from my thoughts of Itlantis and Tempest. I followed him a short distance from the others to the solitude of a shadowed corner.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, pulling both hands on my cheeks, cradling my face as he peered down at me.
Sunlight dappled his face and turned his eyelashes golden. A rush of warmth filled me despite the numbness of loss, despite the shock and danger of the past few days. I pressed my cheek into his palm and made a soft noise in the back of my throat.
“I am still in shock,” I said, trying to parcel through the emotions and failing. “I don’t know how I’m going to feel in a few days, but today I am overcome with the beauty of this place. I don’t want to leave.”
Nol dropped his hands to my shoulders. He fixed my eyes with his, holding me in place with a single longing look. “Nor do I.”
The memory of his old proposition ran through my head. Run away and forget it all. Run away and live.
I hadn’t run away. I’d still lived. But now, I was so weary. I wanted to live in this place of sunlight and shadow, with the sea outside my window but the sky there too, and the sound of birds filling the air in the morning. I wasn’t meant to live under the waves. I knew it with a sudden rush of certainty, a rush almost as strong as the knowledge that I loved Nol and wanted him to stay with me.
His hands slid from my shoulders down my arms to hold mine. His fingers were warm, shooting sparks into my skin. His eyes were dark and crowded with things unspoken.
“Aemi,” he said, and stopped, just like he always did. We both smiled.
He leaned in and pressed his forehead to mine.
“I love you,” he said. “I was frantic when we were on Volcanus, and I didn’t know what was happening to you. I know that right now you are with the Itlanteans and I am with the Dron, but that looks like it matters less and less. These people have lived together peacefully for years as such, and Garren seems willing to throw all animosity aside for a brother who was raised Itlantean the last ten some years.”
I felt every breath as he spoke. His words poured over me. I reached up to pull his face down to mine, and he wrapped his arms around my waist and I knit my fingers in his hair. He tasted like hope.
When he drew back, my heart hammered against his chest and his lips brushed across my cheek as he spoke.
“I love you, and I want to build a life with you, Aemi. But where do we go? Back to Itlantis? To the Dron? To the surface villages?”
My answer came at once, surprising even me.
“Let’s just stay here.”
And so we did.
EPILOGUE
THE SUN SHONE hot against my skin as I padded across the beach. Beside me, my daughter danced on the wet sand where the sea kissed the shore, squealing whenever the surf caught her around the ankles. Her curly hair, yellow like her father’s even though her skin was brown like mine, blew into her eyes. Birds trilled above us, swooping and diving at the waves to get the fish that swam too close to the surface.
The stones of remembrance that hung around my neck thumped against my collarbone as I bent to pick up a shell.
“Lylie,” I called to my daughter, holding out my hand with the shell in it. “Here’s another one for Amma.”
She took the shell from me and dropped it into the pouch she wore around her waist. The shell clinked as it dropped among the others we’d gathered.
Out to sea, a ship rose from the depths, and I shaded my eyes to see. The hull was the hue of a freshly washed pearl, and it glistened as water streamed from the sides. My mouth curved as I recognized it.
“She’s here,” I said, and my daughter caught my eye with the grin of a child who had never known hunger or fear. My chest squeezed tight, and I swooped her up in my arms and kissed her cheeks. “I’ll race you home.”
She giggled and squirmed out of my hold to run ahead of me, kicking up sand as she headed for the path into the jungle. I hung back, letting her get a lead as we left the beach and entered the lush green of the forest.
Vines brushed my face as I followed her down the curling stone steps to the remnants of the old ruin on Perilous, where the domes were still covered in moss. Below us, men and woman called to each other as they picked fruit among the paths, and others cleared the ever-encroaching vines from the outer buildings.
We’d settled in the least-damaged parts of the city ten years ago, after the battle for Primus. Nol and I never left, and Dron and Itlanteans alike came to make a home with us and some of the lost children among the tangled trees and brilliant sunlight. Many from Celestrus, many from Magmus. Former soldiers, former Indentureds, former workers with magma and steel. People from as far as the colony of Brinewater came to build a new life in the lost city. Soon, surfacers from various islands trickled in, following the peculiar path that led safely to the island.
It was a tumultuous first few years, rife with misunderstandings and occasional fights between former enemies, but we were learning that trust was a gift exchanged over time, and old wounds, although not erasable, could be mended with mutual goals and hard work alongside each other. Now we had a proper village, filled with children and laughter, some of us fishing, some farming, some trading with the islands to the north and west. Some of our children, the ones who had come to Perilous as youngsters and who were almost grown now, had gone back beneath the waves to study at the schools in Primus, learning to be architects, doctors, designers, engineers. There were plans to use some of the ruins for a university here, on Perilous, a place where the historical and scientific knowledge of the past could be sorted, studied, and preserved.
My daughter reached the bottom of the stairs and skipped between the fruit trees toward the largest domed building, where we kept the community’s tools. As she ran, a black-haired little boy joined her, his hands and face sticky and stained with pulp and juice from the purple fruit. Behind him followed several other children, all various shades of brown, herded by a young woman with a patient smile. She waved at me as she corralled the children and suggested a game. She was Garren’s daughter, working in the village as a child keeper now, and almost old enough to choose her path as an adult. I’d heard talk aroun
d the fire that she was considering studying at a university on Arctus to become a scientist.
We truly had come full circle.
“Aemi!” a voice called out. I turned to see Nol striding toward me, his hands dirty from working in the dirt, his blond hair damp with sweat. He gave me a quick kiss. “Your mother is here.”
“I saw her ship,” I said, motioning to Lylie to join us. “We’re going to meet her at the dock.”
“Look!” Lylie said, running to his side. “We collected shells for grandmother.” She pulled the bag from her waist and thrust it into his hands.
Nol picked her up in the crook of his arm and nuzzled her cheek. He looked at me over her curly head, the bag of Lylie’s shells in one hand, our daughter cradled against him. “Would you like me to come with you?”
“I think we can manage on our own,” I said, watching him as he kissed our daughter’s nose and made her giggle.
Nol set Lylie down, and I held out my hand for hers. She slipped her fingers between mine, and together we headed for the north of the island, where a long dock stretched into the water between large white stones that jutted from the blue-green water like the teeth of an ancient monster.
Homes had been carved into some of the stones, creating a miniature village much like the Village of the Rocks of my childhood. Some of the survivors lived there now, including Nealla. People washed clothing in the sea and slept in hammocks strung between posts in the deep blue shadows that filled the tunnels carved in the rock. A few called out to us as we passed, and Lylie squealed a greeting when she spotted Garren knee-deep in the surf with a net in his hands. Most of the Dron lived inland, along with those who had come from Volcanus and Magmus, but Garren lived here with the surfacers. He said he liked to be close to the waves.
My mother waited at the end of the dock, her long black dress waving in the wind. Silver threaded her hair now, but her face was as ageless as ever, her expression carefully composed as always. Her eyes, however, gentled when they landed on Lylie.
“Amma!” My child, who knew no fear, ran straight to my mother and hugged her legs. I approached more slowly, choosing a friendly nod as a greeting instead.
My mother still intimidated and perplexed me at times, but less now that she used to. We were learning, she and I, to navigate the complexities of who we were and how that informed our relationship as mother and daughter.
“Aemiana,” she said. “It is good to see you.”
“Good to see you, too,” I replied.
For us, it was a warm interaction. We’d been working on showing more affection.
“I have news,” she said, and paused. “Your grandmother...”
Fear seized me. She had felt poorly the last time I’d seen her.
“She is well,” my mother assured me. “She’s been appointed speaker for the senate again.”
Annah had taken a role of greater leadership ever since Grimulus’s treachery had become known. She’d overseen the discovery and eradication of Tempest.
“She wants to know if you’ll be coming to visit with Lylie soon,” my mother continued.
I bit my lip. Since settling here in Perilous, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to travel back to the underwater cities. It was as if some part of me feared that once I’d relinquished the sun, I’d never get it back. My daughter had never been to any of the sunken cities, and I wasn’t in any hurry for her to visit.
I liked our life here. The other one held too many dark and terrifying memories.
My mother took in my expression and shook her head. “We’ll talk more when your sister gets here in the second ship,” she said. “I want to see these shells Lylie has promised me.”
I watched them head down the dock together for the green of the island, my mother’s hand around my daughter’s shoulders, and my chest tightened with a mixture of emotions.
It would be good to see Laimila. Our relationship had begun to blossom, and she was now making regular trips to visit despite her hatred of direct sunlight. She preferred to spend the majority of her time at Perilous in the ruins below the surface, and I was practicing patience and allowing her to adjust as slowly as she saw fit. We’d discovered we both loved trying to make sense of the old books from the Perilous library, and we spent many hours reading passages aloud to each other and laughing over the words we didn’t know how to say.
“Aemi!”
I turned. Tob was climbing from the hatch of the ship, a wide smile stretching across his face as he spotted me. He threw his arms around me as soon as he was on his feet.
“How is business?” I asked when we drew apart.
Tob grinned. “Fantastic. I just opened a new location in New Celestrus and I’ve got a killer new dish made with kelp and sea snake venom.”
Tob was now famous throughout Itlantis Reunited for his skills as a shock cook. He visited us often in order to see Garren and his family, usually tagging along when my mother came surface-side. They had an uneasy friendship—my mother appreciated Tob’s frankness, and Tob, now that he’d gotten over his fear of her, seemed to like her brusque ways.
“How is Lyssia?” I asked.
The serum from Perilous had revived Merelus from his coma, and he’d lived for another eight years in fine health and even made a trip to see Perilous (and pronounce it “exquisite”). After Merelus had passed, our friend had finished school, settled in Arctus, and was working as an engineer.
“She is well,” Tob assured me. “And my niece? Did she get Lyssia’s letters?”
“She did,” I said. “Garren almost burst a blood vessel when he learned of her plans, but she has his temperament and can’t be told what to do, you know. It seems she will be headed to Arctus before too long.”
“And how is Olis?” I asked, linking my arm with his. “And the baby?”
Tob sighed. “Olis is well. The baby is wonderful, except he never sleeps. It is his mission in life to make sure we don’t, either. What sort of magic is it that allows him to cry so much?” He paused, reflecting. “But he is wonderful. We must be mad to think so with all the crying.”
“It will pass,” I said, grinning. “I remember those days with Lylie too well. It is why we haven’t yet had another.”
“I can’t wait until he’s eating more than mother’s milk,” Tob continued. “Then I shall introduce his palate to so many wonderful flavors.”
“Has Olis relented and given you some breastmilk to experiment with?”
Tob rolled his eyes. “She says she doesn’t want her bodily excretions to be featured on my freakish menu. Her words.”
I laughed.
“And what does the new city look like?” I asked as we followed my mother and Lylie down the dock.
“Beautiful,” Tob said. He waved at Garren as we passed him, and they shared a nod of brotherly greeting. “Half the city above the waves, half below, as the new type of Itlantis strives to be. Everything glitters in the sunlight. I’m surprised you haven’t been to see the statue of you in the middle of the city.”
I laughed, uncomfortable. “I told them not to do it.”
“You and Merelus uncovered the truth about the destruction of Celestrus, and then of course you rallied the surfacers, a key part in ending the war, and you helped find Perilous. People like to have something to celebrate. We need heroes.”
“I’m not a hero,” I said. “They should have made statues of every person in Magmus who died. Every surfacer who fought for her village. Everyone who helped to liberate Primus.”
Kit.
Tallyn.
Neither of us said their names. They hung in the air between us, like an old secret we both felt comfortable pretending not to remember. I touched one of the glowing stones at my throat.
I missed them both.
“Well,” Tob said. “If the past is any indication, people also like a simple narrative. Heroes, villains, none of that messy in-between business. But maybe we’re learning. They named the newest university after Valus, you know.
I was at the opening ceremony.”
I didn’t know that.
“Well, it was established in Volcanus,” I said. “And he did donate the entire family fortune to improving the lives of the workers on Magmus.”
“That was only a political move to keep him from being executed for treason.” Tob shrugged. “Valus always looked out for himself.”
“Not always,” I said, remembering.
We reached the edge of the dock and stepped onto the path. The ground was warm beneath my feet, and the wind gentle against the back of my neck. I stretched, feeling the sun on my skin and hearing the sea singing behind me as I followed the stone path toward home.
A NOTE TO MY LOVELY READERS
I hope you enjoyed reading this book as much as I enjoyed dreaming up all the beautiful cities of Itlantis. Stories cannot exist without their readers' imaginations giving them life, and I thank you for joining me on this journey.
If you enjoyed Of In Dawn and Darkness, consider writing a review. I would deeply appreciate it! Reviews are a great way to help other readers and authors. Reviews help other readers know if a book will be a good fit for their reading taste, and they help raise awareness about the book. You have even more impact writing a review when it's the last in the series and less likely to be reviewed. Your review could cause someone else to discover his or her favorite book! Plus, they make authors so happy. We check our number of reviews on different websites (hey, we're human), and seeing that someone has written a new one can spur us to write more. True story. Everybody wins when you write a review!
Sincerely,
~Kate
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kate Avery Ellison lives in Atlanta, Georgia, with her geektastic husband, two sweet children, and two spoiled (but lovable) cats. She loves dark chocolate, fairy tale retellings, and love stories with lots of witty banter and longing looks (hello Pride and Prejudice!). When she isn’t working on her next writing project, she can be found reading, watching one of her favorite TV shows, dancing for the exercise, and hanging out with friends. She also loves hearing from readers!
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