by Laura Kaye
“We’re not going anywhere,” Seth said. “I’m taking Laney home.”
Chrys refused to meet Laney’s eyes. He couldn’t bear to see whether she wanted to go. “Not up for discussion.”
Seth got right up in his face. “I agree completely. We’re leaving.”
The man’s eyes. They possessed an odd reflective quality Chrys hadn’t noticed before. Rage washed off Seth and, with it, the same hint of supernatural energy he’d felt before.
Aeolus shoved the two of them apart and glared down at Seth. He jerked his hand away from the human and stared a long moment. “What are you?”
Seth frowned, but Lacey stepped between him and the god. “He’s my friend.”
Aeolus gave the man another long, assessing look, then nodded. “Bring them,” he said to Chrys, then turned away. “Time is short.”
Laney wrapped her arms tight around herself. For a moment, she looked so lost and alone that Chrys had to go to her, hold her, touch her. He pulled her into his arms. Her fingers fisted into his shirt, as if holding on for dear life.
He held her for a long minute, and then he tipped her chin up with his fingers. “I am sorry beyond measure that I pulled you into the middle of this.”
She glanced away, toward Seth, then opened her mouth as if to speak.
“Please, let me finish,” he said. “We have to get Boreas back to the Realm of the Gods before the sun rises, and I can’t leave you here. Not now.”
Her eyes went wide. “I can go to the Realm of the Gods?”
“Normally, it is forbidden. But Father can invite you into his home if he so chooses.” When the Olympians found out humans had been there, there would likely be hell to pay, but really, so much shit was waiting to hit the fan that one more thing wouldn’t make much of a difference. “However, I must make you sleep for this trip.” Human consciousness couldn’t well tolerate the transition between the human and divine dimensions.
“I trust you, Chrys. Whatever you need, I’ll do.”
Were his heart not already buried under so much grief, the words would’ve pierced him.
One hand around her back, he pressed his other to her forehead. A warm, soothing wind poured over her and dragged her under. She went limp, and he caught and lifted her into his arms.
Seth lunged, but Aeolus blocked his path and forced him into unconsciousness. He hefted the man over his shoulder. “There’s something about this one,” he said.
Chrys nodded, but now wasn’t the time to figure it out.
Zeph and Livos repeated the process with Megan and Tabitha.
In the east, the first slivers of dawn threatened.
One by one, they shifted into their elemental forms and shot skyward toward a future that no longer made any sense.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dressed in long ceremonial robes, Chrysander stood at the South point on the giant compass rose inlaid into the floor of Aeolus’s Hall of the Winds. The ceremonial hall was huge and round, with a domed ceiling that gave it the soaring feeling of a temple. Murals telling the stories of the exploits and service of the Anemoi decorated the walls in muted hues.
At the start of the private installation ceremony, five of the sixteen spots stood open, the corresponding lanterns dark. A sixth spot stood open while the light still burned—Eurus’s cardinal spot in the East. In addition to Boreas and Apheliotes, the gods of the North Wind and Southeast Wind, the compass rose stood empty on its East-Northeast, West-Southwest, and South-Southeast positions.
They’d lost five good, nay, great men last night. His heart hurt so badly, Chrys still found it nearly impossible to draw in a full breath.
Aeolus made his way around the circle, first installing three new inter-ordinal Anemoi, all the eldest sons of their deceased fathers. He promoted Phoenicias from god of the East-Southeast Wind to become Apheliotes’s successor in the Southeast, and Phoenicias’s son succeeded his father. One by one, the new gods filled in and fortified their circle. New lights shone in each of their lanterns.
The ceremony was needed and it would strengthen them, but it also emphasized that nothing would ever be the same.
And then Aeolus stepped to the top of the circle, where a large ornate ‘N’ was tiled into the floor. Owen stood back from the circle, outside of it, in long fur robes reminiscent of the kind Boreas used to wear.
“Owen, chosen son of Boreas, son of Aeolus, step forward to claim your godhood and your rightful place as Supreme God of the North Wind and Guardian of Winter.”
For a long moment, Owen stared at the dark blue ‘N.’ Chrys could only imagine the grief weighing down on Owen now. In one fell swoop, he’d lost his father and the quiet life he’d chosen and built with Megan, Teddy, and the baby on the way. As a full god, his life was no longer wholly his own, and he came to power in the midst of war, when nothing was certain and no one was safe.
Owen stepped into place as the master of the North Wind. He repeated the words he’d said for Boreas during the night: “I accept the power, the privileges, and the duties of the North Wind. I will be a fair and faithful master and a true and conscientious guardian. From this moment until I am no more.” His voice was heavy with sadness.
Aeolus lifted the circular glass lantern out of the floor and opened a door on the side. Since Boreas had already bestowed his northern energy, the interior was empty. Except… Aeolus reached in and removed something. “Open your hand,” he said quietly. “The day you married Megan, Boreas arranged for these to be placed here. They each now contain remnants of his divine energy.”
Owen extended his hand and received the gift. For a long moment, he struggled to rein in his grief. His brow furrowed, his eyes squeezed closed, his lips pressed tight together. And then he nodded and opened his eyes. “Thank you,” he rasped. Just like Boreas to do something so unexpectedly thoughtful, whatever it was.
“Your light will guide and lead the North Wind. Place it within so all will know you as its master.”
Owen raised his other hand and turned it palm up. He looked at it, concentration plain on his face, and a small orb of bright white light lifted from his skin, hovered. He placed it within the lantern.
Aeolus secured the door with a skeleton key and lifted the lantern high. “Long live the North Wind.”
“Long live the North Wind,” everyone answered, the joined voices echoing against the cavernous ceiling.
Aeolus gave the key to Owen to safeguard, for the only one who should ever have access to that divine energy was the god himself, then he settled the lantern into its space on the floor, completing the circle. Once again, sixteen lights shined, although one threw a pall over each of the other fifteen.
But Chrys had seen proof in Eurus’s desiccated hand that the infernal dagger was effective against him. And that gave him hope.
As the group began to break up, Owen stood looking a little lost. Zeph must’ve seen it, too, because they both crossed the compass rose to him at the same time.
Owen glanced up, pain shining out of his strange eyes. He opened his palm. Three faceted crystal snowflakes glimmered in the low light. “He always gives us snowflakes.” He cleared his throat. “Gave.”
“You brought him back to life, Owen. These past few years were the happiest he’d had in a very long time.”
Chrys nodded. “That kind of happiness means everything, and the three of you gave it to him.” He felt Zeph’s gaze on him. “What?”
His brother arched a brow. “If happiness means so much, why are you throwing yours away?”
Owen crossed his arms and tilted his head, as if waiting to hear the answer, too.
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“Don’t,” Owen said, his eyes flaring with that new silver light. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what he’s talking about. Not on the day we lay my father to rest. Honor Boreas’s death by living your life.”
Chrys planted his hands on his hips, pressure filling his chest. Didn’t they know how badly he wi
shed he could just have what he wanted, consequences be damned? “It is her life I am trying to protect.”
“We are in the shit right now, Chrys. There’s no doubt about it,” Zeph said. “But this war will end. She’s here. She’s seen the worst. Maybe you should give her a say in it.” He gripped Chrys’s shoulder. “Just be sure before you throw away forever. It doesn’t come along very often.”
“That’s for damn sure,” Owen said. “Speaking of forever, I’m going to go find Megan. Thank the gods, her labor pains stopped, but I think she’s in shock.” He tugged his hand through his black hair. “We have a lot to figure out.”
“And you will,” Zeph said. “Go. She must be eager to see you.” The new god of the North Wind stepped away. “Oh, and Owen?”
He turned, the fur robes swirling around him.
“You are our brother as surely as Boreas was. Don’t hesitate to ask for anything.”
Chrys nodded. “That’s the damn truth.”
“Thank you…brothers.”
As he watched Owen stride toward the ornate doors, Chrys didn’t envy the challenges the new god of the North Wind and Megan now faced. At least Ella was a goddess, and she and Zeph could live together in the Realm of the Gods. While Boreas had found a way to extend the span of Megan’s life, she was still a mortal, still human, and as such could not live in this realm. Zeus strictly forbade it.
Now that he thought of it, their situation offered yet another reason why Laney was better off without him. How many sacrifices did he expect her to make for him? Not that he’d ever voice such a thing. Owen had enough to deal with right now, and Zeph often regretted that Ella never had the chance to choose her goddesshood for herself. He’d made that decision for her, though there wasn’t a chance in hell she would’ve chosen any differently.
What would Laney choose? The thought slid insidiously through his brain.
He knew the answer. He could still hear her voice declaring her place to be with him. No matter how much he yearned to make that come true, he wasn’t worth that kind of sacrifice, and Chrys would never ask her to make it.
…
Laney woke up with a start and sat bolt upright. For a moment, she had no idea where she was. The bedding below her fingers was silky soft. Ahead of her, the wall seemed to be made of light. She scanned her vision over the space, attempting to assemble the puzzle. The details she gathered told her it was a bedroom…
Memories returned to her in a rush. The fire, the battle, Boreas’s death. Her throat went tight as she recalled the devastation in everyone’s voices as they’d said their good-byes. The love they’d all shared was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever witnessed, and their loss of it, one of the most tragic.
“I don’t want to lose you, Chrys,” she whispered into the silence. But she already had, hadn’t she? Her heart of hearts demanded that he loved her, too, that he’d showed it time and again even if he’d never said the words. Wishful thinking, no doubt.
Now, it was just a matter of time before he returned her to Summerlyn.
Nearly overwhelmed just about every way you cut it, Laney took a moment to scan her gaze over the floor. It appeared clear of obstacles. She got up and crossed the room. Was this truly the Realm of the Gods? How long had she slept? Where was Chrys? And what had happened to Seth?
Seth. Laney sucked in a breath and spun her feet to the floor, a strange memory flooding back to her. When Seth had hugged her upon their reunion, Laney had gotten the oddest image in her mind. It was Seth, but not as a man. As a lion. Sorta. He’d had wings, too, and a great bird’s head.
Voices sounded outside in the hall.
Debating for a moment, she slowly crossed the room toward the muffled conversation and dragged her hand along the far wall. Her fingers found a handle and she cracked open the door.
Owen’s bright white aura was the first thing she noticed—brighter than it had ever been before. Megan walked beside him.
“Dada, Dada,” Teddy’s voice called out.
After everything they’d been through, she didn’t want to intrude, but they spotted her before she could retreat.
“Are you okay, Laney?” Megan asked.
“Oh, yes. I just woke up and I…” She shrugged.
“Things just broke up,” Owen said. “I’m sure Chrys’ll come find you in a few. Aeolus has had a feast prepared.”
“We’re going to get Tabitha,” Megan said. “We’ll see you there.”
Laney’s stomach flip-flopped. A divine feast in the Realm of the Gods. How much more magical and fantastical could her day get? That strange lion-bird image shot into her mind and she didn’t let herself answer that. “All right. Thanks.”
Owen lifted Teddy into his arms and turned. A flapping of heavy fabric sounded out.
She scanned her gaze over the retreating family. It was very possible her sight was failing her, but she would’ve sworn that Owen was wearing long, silvery robes. Just like the ones she’d seen in her mind’s eye when he had taken her hand to lead her to safety.
“That’s not possible,” she said to herself.
“Oh, but it is,” a voice said from behind her.
Laney whirled, her heart in her throat. Judging by the grey, metallic aura, another god stood before her. “Who are you?”
He hobbled closer. “You don’t remember?”
“Should I?” Now that she thought about it, there was something familiar about his short height and gruff voice… The old man from her dream. She gasped. “But it was just a dream,” she murmured.
“Incorrect. It was a visitation. And I bestowed upon you a gift.”
“Gift?” She focused on the god and struggled to bring his details into focus. Unkempt brown hair. Hunched back. Gnarled hands. It was the man from the dream she’d had the day Chrys posed as a contractor.
“The gift of prophecy. Life is about balance. You lost one sight. I gave you another.”
Another? Dizziness threatened. “I don’t understand. You mean…the things I’ve seen were visions? Like, the future?”
“Yes. Your ability will get stronger with time.”
“Seth,” she whispered, her mind reeling. How could what she’d seen be his future?
“Is safe. And he is also a griffin. Or, at least, he could be. The blood runs through him, if distantly.”
“A…griffin? What is that?” she asked, not sure she really wanted to know.
“King of the beasts. Guardian of priceless treasure. Part lion, part eagle. Very strong. Very courageous. Paired with your line long, long ago. For protection, of course.”
“My line?” she asked, mind absolutely swirling with all this information.
“Distant descendant of Auxesia, one of the three Horae—the one who watches over nature’s growth in summer.”
Laney shook her head, absolutely speechless. Both their names actually meant something? Actually connected them, even if only in a small way, to this magical world? Her heart drummed a fast beat against her chest. She pressed her palm there to keep it from flying away. This was all so crazy. Starting with the idea that she would be able to see the future. What could she do with an ability like that? How could she help people with it? The possibilities were overwhelming. “Your gift…it’s truly amazing,” she finally said. “Thank you. ”
He gave a small bow. “I am Hephaestus. I have been keeping an eye on you.”
His words should’ve brought fear, but for some reason they didn’t. “Why have you watched me?”
“Because I am always curious how things work and what makes people tick. And because we are alike.”
A nervous laugh spilled from her. “How so?”
“Both of us have bodies that could hold us back, but we haven’t let them now, have we?”
She thought of the hunched over way he walked, recalled an image from her dream of gnarled feet and hands. This god felt some affinity with her because of her blindness? As if he hadn’t already honored her enough with his gift. She grap
pled with how to respond. “We all have our challenges,” she finally said.
“Indeed. And there’s that genuine, selfless character again, rare and unusual qualities in my experience. ”
She struggled to keep up with the unusual god’s pronouncements. “I don’t…really know what to say to that. Thank you,” she rushed to add. “But…I’m just like anyone.”
“Ach. You are not. Three times you have risked your life for another.”
“Chrys? It’s what anyone would do for someone they—” Heat spread across her face. She hugged herself.
“Ah, yes. So you do love him?” He stepped closer, and Laney realized she was taller than him because of the way his back and shoulders had curled.
What did it hurt to answer? If he’d truly watched her, he already knew. “Yes.”
“Then I have a question for you.”
The hair raised on her arms and the blood raced in her veins. Laney’s stomach tingled, like she was balanced on the edge of a vast cliff. “Dare to know,” she whispered to herself. She met the god’s expectant gaze. “Okay. What is it?”
“If you had the choice between the return of your visual sight or remaining blind and gaining long life, which would you choose?”
A shiver passed through Laney’s chest and over every inch of her skin. Such a thing was possible? And this god had the power to offer it? Laney’s whole life narrowed to this one moment. “What do you mean by long life?” she asked, nearly breathless.
“The ability to stay with immortal Chrysander for as long as you wish, but mostly blind, as you are now.”
The walls of the room swam and buckled. Laney swayed.
Hephaestus’s rough, calloused fingers gently caught her arms. “Steady, lass.”
“I wouldn’t grow old or die?” She shook her head. “I don’t even know that he wants me.”
“And what if he did?”
Her heart thundered, sending blood roaring through her ears. If there was even a chance, Hephaestus was offering them a way to be together forever. “The choice would be easy. I would choose love, so I would have to choose long life and blindness.”
