The Ever Cruel Kingdom

by Rin Chupeco

  “Oh, thank the goddess,” Arjun rasped, visibly relieved. “I thought I was going to crumble into dust as soon as I let go of it.”

  There was no time to ask Arjun what he was talking about, because Odessa was already running, her hand finding mine just as the demoness shook itself off.

  As soon as my twin’s hand touched the stone it suddenly flared with the same bright light we had witnessed back in the shrine. Power coursed through us, more than any we had ever felt.

  Ereshkigal roared and flung itself at us with shocking quickness. A swipe crumbled the wall behind us, cleaving easily through the thick stone. Odessa raised up a wall of Air just in time, but the demoness’ attacks made deep grooves in the dense patterns, sinking farther past the barrier with every slice.

  With a scream, Odessa went down. Her eyes were wide, her breathing stuttered, and she was clutching at her chest. Now that she had given up the radiances, her sickness returned with a vengeance. I cried out for Lan, but the Catseye was already scrambling for her, funneling her own energy into her weakened body.

  “No!” Mother and Asteria linked hands; even this deep below Aeon they could somehow summon lightning, and the shadow-goddess arched up, hissing as the energy lanced across its form. Arjun ducked to the side and shot more fire at it. All their efforts only seemed to increase its fury. With an inhuman howl it lashed out madly at anything that moved, carving fresh grooves in the floor and shattering more stones.

  “‘Place immortality into Its heart,’” Noelle quoted, grunting as she fought to keep the shadows out of range with her spear. “‘And bring her the freedom and peace I could not.’ That’s all we need to do, right?”

  “Let’s do it,” Odessa breathed, pushing Lan away so she could stand. “We have to do it now.”

  “Distract her,” Asteria instructed.

  We all obeyed. The caves lit up with the brightest of blues, the Janella-Ereshkigal hybrid thrashing wildly as the flames pummeled her on all sides. As one, Odessa and I ran, leaping together to shove the stone of immortality into that dark hollow where the creature’s heart should have been.

  And then the creature flung its arms out at us, trying to deflect our attack. Its blow when it connected with my side was the worst pain I’d ever felt in my life.

  It threw us several feet away. The impact sent the stone rolling across the floor, away from us.

  The creature screamed, and sharp tendrils made of shadow lashed out, striking madly at everything. I heard Noelle scream, saw Lan drag her away as red blood seeped through the steward’s breeches, where she’d been stabbed in the leg, before the Catseye braved the sharp talons to return for Odessa. I held tightly to my twin, who was in a half faint, overcome by exhaustion. The demoness shrieked again, then focused its attention now on both Asteria and Mother, its blades tearing through their shields like the latter was made of paper. Triumphant as it shredded through the last of their defenses, it stabbed its way past the shield.

  There was a harsh, agonized grunt. I heard Asteria scream.

  And Sonfei was falling, his eyes dimming. With a horrific tearing sound, a blade of shadow jerked away from him, its edges stained in bright blood. Asteria caught him before he struck the ground, and it was her turn to lash out blindly in rage. The demoness was hurled back in a surge of lightning.

  “Yexu,” Asteria wept. Lan had dashed to her side, her hands pushing down around the wound on the Liangzhu’s chest, trying frantically to put as much pressure on it as she could. But I knew that it was too late; the attack had pierced Sonfei through the heart, a fatal injury not even a Catseye could heal.

  “I do love you, you fool,” Asteria whispered.

  Sonfei laughed, a faint, gurgling sound. Something he saw in Asteria’s face made a warm smile break over his. “At last, I can protect you,” he wheezed, then let out a long sigh, and never took in another breath.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The Twins at the End

  WE KNEW WHAT WE WERE supposed to do now. We could continue the endless cycle, dooming more goddesses after us to sacrifice, or we could risk everything in the here and now and put Ereshkigal’s spirit to rest once and for all, even if it meant we were to die.

  Painfully, we picked ourselves off the floor. Lan looked back at us, her eyes full of grief. Poor Sonfei lay there, a gentle smile on his lips.

  There was no time now to weep. There would be more to mourn later.

  After its initial, rabid attack, Ereshkigal had weakened considerably, the shadows around it diminished somehow. Janella, poor Janella—her features had shrunk, the illusion of maintaining her appearance taking its toll.

  We ran to where the stone lay, bent down and seized it. It glowed again, instilled us with newfound energy.

  My twin looked at me. There was no anger there, not even fear. It was like the years we had spent apart had only made us stronger, had given us the time we needed to be better, even if it had taken close to two decades.

  “I’m not afraid,” she said. “Isn’t that odd? All those years, terrified and alone and wishing for more—and now I am not afraid.”

  “I feel the same way.” I wished we had more time together. I wished we hadn’t had only these last few days to discover who we really were, for her to know who I really was. But our short time together would be more than enough. It would sustain us for what was to come, for however long that eternity might be.

  Her hand was warm against mine. “I am sorry,” I said.

  “I am sorry,” she echoed, but it was I love you I heard, the same as she had.

  “What are they doing?” I heard Noelle cry from behind us, but we were already moving, and nothing above or below Aeon could have stopped us.

  The poor creature gave one last keening, shuddering cry as we pressed the stone of immortality against its chest. For so long we had regarded Ereshkigal’s spirit as a vengeful monster, blinded by its hate. Now we saw it for what it was; the goddess Ereshkigal lashing out, hurt and lonely, yearning for a love she thought she had lost, for the sister who had betrayed her.

  There was pain, but it was nothing we could not endure. The stone pulsed between our palms, our fingers intertwined. There was pain, but behind that lay the promise of peace.

  “The day of the Breaking—I couldn’t bring myself to accept the final gift. But it wasn’t Aranth’s life they asked for. It was yours. I’d always loved you best. I loved Aranth, too, but not . . .”

  “I know. And I love you.”

  For the briefest of instants, we saw Ereshkigal break apart. Her husk split open, revealing something dazzling underneath. For a moment, we swore that we could see something take human shape before fusing itself into that sparkling form.

  I am sorry, sister.

  We turned to look at our daughters one last time. They gaped at us, shock clear in their expressions. We smiled, at peace. Our time was done. Let them start new lives together, without the mistakes of our past.

  Let them be happy.

  Let them learn to love their sister better.

  We stepped into the light.

  Chapter Thirty

  The Twins and Aeon

  THEY WERE GONE.

  The cave was dark and empty. There were no more shadows crawling out to find us, no more galla seeking blood. Bereft of their presence the throne looked powerless, decrepit. Ereshkigal was gone.

  And so were our mothers.

  With a low cry I scrambled forward, convinced that this was yet another illusion. I saw Odessa doing the same, looking like she wanted to tear down the throne stone by stone, as if they were hiding behind it.

  But we knew.

  I cried. For Sonfei, for Mother and Asteria, for all the sacrifices we had made to arrive at this moment. Odessa clung to me, and our tears fell.

  “This is why the Devoted’s plan was always to separate the sisters.” I understood Noelle a little better now. Looking for rational explanations was her way of keeping herself calm, but her voice still shook. “Why they cou
ld not allow them to grow fond of each other.”

  I could sense Arjun before I could see him, let him fold me into his arms as I wept. To have him here after those painful days spent believing I had lost him, and then losing Mother—happiness and heartbreak were intertwined, and I could no longer distinguish the bitter from the sweet. Only Arjun could help chase away the pain of Mother’s death. I knew he must have gone through his own torments to reach us, and my heart swelled knowing how he must have struggled. “I love you,” I whispered, my voice muffled against his chest.

  “You bonehead,” came his fond reply.

  But even as I cried, there was a decided shift in the air. The weight of Ereshkigal was gone; in its place was something lighter, more hopeful.

  I saw them sprout through the cracks in the stone; tiny vines that stole out of the rock, giving way to small buds that sprouted and bloomed, until a fresh, fragrant scent filled the air. As we looked on, we saw plants stealing across the once-dark throne, more flowers wrapping around it.

  Dazed, I got to my feet. “They planned this.” They’d put up too little of a fuss when we insisted on coming here. And the talk between them I’d overheard earlier this morning: But I’m glad we can make things better for our daughters now, Mother had said. I’m so glad we at least have today. . . .

  I was furious. I was heartbroken. “How could they?” I choked. “How could they?”

  Mother had promised me more time together. She and Asteria had asked us to become a family again. They’d lied. As always, they’d lied—

  Odessa blinked back at me, the palm of her hand pressed against her chest. She was weeping, but behind the tears was a stunned look of wonder. “It’s gone,” she said softly. “There’s no pain.”

  Lan fell to her knees beside my twin, held her close. “You’re right,” she said, awed. “The shadows over your heart—they’re gone.”

  I didn’t know what to think or feel. I felt lighter. The demons that had curled at the edges of my mind, since the last time I performed the Banishing, since I first saw the galla rise out of the oceans of Aranth, were gone. The black hole within my chest had disappeared. I was finally, blessedly, undeniably alone.

  But I wept. I wept for what Mother and Latona could have been, for everything that had been lost to bring us here.

  I wept for poor Sonfei. Lan had shut his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest to hide that terrible wound, and I mourned what he could have been with Mother. Hoped that wherever he was he would at least be with her, with them, and happy. Noelle guarded him, her own face drawn, but she turned at some sound I didn’t hear, and gasped when she saw the vines steadily climbing out of every nook and cranny the cave held, the scent of fragrant blossoms filling the air and overpowering the dampness of the cave.

  I reached out to touch one of those flowers with my fingertips, and it was then that I saw it; it felt like Aeon’s life force ran through my blood, because I could see the changes being wrought on its surface. I saw the plains flushing green, sprawling on for miles. I saw light rain showers blanketing them in soft dew. I saw the seas washing closer and closer toward empty shores, the black murky dregs changing into a clearer crystal blue. Gone was the dark mist that had always plagued the boundaries of the Great Abyss, dissipating as sunlight pierced through it for the first time. And this time, unlike the illusion Ereshkigal had woven for us, I could feel the sun’s heat, felt it spark against my soul. And then, from the depths of the chasm came a grinding sound. The earth rocked hard against our feet, but this time it was for a better purpose. Yard by slow yard, the Abyss began to close, the opposite sides inching closer until it narrowed, met, and was gone, without even a scar to mark its place.

  Aeon was healing. It had always been so with the sacrifice of every goddess, though man’s corruption had ensured the reprieve could never last.

  That cycle would end with us. I swore it.

  It wasn’t completely over. Ereshkigal’s vessel had been destroyed, but so had the stone of immortality.

  There must always be a steward within the Cruel Kingdom. Someone had to take Ereshkigal’s place.

  “What do we do now?” Lan asked me softly, her gold-and-ivory eyes worried. I smiled, overflowing with love for her. She had come intending to die. It was a miracle that she was still here with me. I intended to cherish her every day of my life. Just as I knew Haidee would do with Arjun.

  Haidee and I looked at each other.

  “‘A half-life is better . . . ,’” I began, remembering that curious phrase that had been etched on those shrine walls.

  “‘. . . than no life at all,’” she finished.

  We smiled then. We knew what we had to do.

  Epilogue

  “JUST AN HOUR MORE,” I grunted, rolling over on my back and taking her with me, so that she was draped over my chest. Morning light filtered through the window; six months after moving in, I’d replaced the wooden frames with something more stable: a metal alloy blend that proved capable of weathering bad storms without rusting. It was a recent invention of Charley and Imogen’s, one they hoped to mass-produce within the year. Bad weather was a rare occurrence on this side of the world, anyway, but I’d learned never to leave things to chance.

  Over the months I’d tried to add little flourishes to our house; things I hoped Haidee would enjoy, like a glasshouse and a small atrium so she could enjoy the sunlight while she read, even finally splurging on a bathtub with connected plumbing. Haidee had protested; she was happy with how things were, she said, and didn’t need anything else. But I didn’t mind; I liked the permanence of it all, the idea that we could both put down roots after a lifetime of roaming.

  It felt right to settle here, in this small village. It felt fitting, too, since this was the very same place we’d stopped to rest on our way to the Great Abyss all those years ago. This was the very same house, the same bed I’d once stretched a canvas over in lieu of a mattress, nervous about our sleeping arrangements and stammering over how I respected her too much to take advantage of the situation, until she’d surprised me and made the first move.

  It had been Haidee’s idea to make our home in this village. “We had some good memories here,” she’d said then, placing her hand on the rickety wood, trying to figure out what parts were salvageable and what parts we had to build back up from scratch. “What’s the first thing you’d like to improve?”

  I’d given her a slow, shit-eating grin. “A bed,” I said, knowing exactly why Haidee had such fond memories of this place, and watched her blush.

  We never knew the original name of this village; any records of it had long been gone. We were overjoyed when Mother Salla and the rest of my siblings elected to make this their home too, together with most of the Liangzhu tribe. Mother Salla had been in her element, planning, organizing, and overseeing the construction of more houses, with an eye toward expanding.

  Farthengrove was as good a name as we could think of christening it with.

  The first thing we’d done after coming here had been to lay Sonfei to rest. “He would be very much liking it,” Oda told us, “being as close to her as we are able to. The presence of the goddesses through the ages smiles down on this place now. It would ease his soul, knowing this.”

  They’d been gone for three years now, but Haidee told me one of the other reasons she liked it here was because she could still feel her mothers close by.

  The Salt Sea had finally returned to the Skeleton Coast, and we’d received word from Yeong-ho that they’d finally been sighting fishes larger than salmon. Tamera and the Gila clan had elected to remain there. They had formulated a plan for sustainable fishing, among many other things, and it was keeping them busy. Lan and Odessa were scheduled to travel there in a month’s time, to oversee that and other policies the council was hoping to implement before the year was out. They’d already extended an invitation to me, to travel with them.

  I’d been tempted to turn down their offer, but Haidee had talked me out of it. �
�Lan told me all you did the last time was mope around the house,” she said firmly. “I know you’ll be lonely, but I want you to keep busy. Help Lan and Odessa run things. Lan’s been invaluable to us while Odessa’s been gone.”

  “Are you saying I’m useless?” I couldn’t help it. Maybe it was easier for Lan to compartmentalize, but those six months were always rough on me.

  She giggled. “Yes, when I’m not around. Go with them, boss people like I know you’re itching to do. You have some sway over policy, too, and you can speak for me as my official consort.”

  She took special care to emphasize consort every time she mentioned it. I had been clueless as to why, until Lan had taken pity on me, took me aside, and told me they were not-so-subtle hints; Haidee was expecting me to formally ask her to become something more. Courtships and betrothals were things I had little experience with, and Haidee had previously been skittish when it came to talk of marriage, since her suitors in the past had offered their hands with politics in mind instead of love. Lan and Odessa had wasted no time getting married six months after spring first returned to Aeon, but I’d always thought Haidee didn’t want or need it.

  I’d ask her when she returned from this next trip. I’d drag Lan and Odessa into it, wheedle them into helping me make the preparations. I wanted Odessa to have as much input with the planning as she could, perhaps have the wedding exactly half a year from now when they could meet again, so she could take part—just like Lan and Odessa had delayed their own nuptials so that Haidee could attend. A short ceremony or a long, drawn-out one where the whole of Aeon celebrated—I didn’t really care, as long as Haidee was willing to settle for me.

  Haidee laughed, snuggled up against me. “You know I have to go,” she said softly. “Lan misses Odessa too, you know.”