by Tamar Sloan
She straightens, and cool air slides against my torso. “Olympus isn’t far from here, is it?”
I nod, unsure of where this is going. “Yes, beyond the gates.”
Kadence turns around, her face full of urgency. “We need to tell the gods. Tell our parents.”
Kronos and Moira. Time and Fate.
Of course they would have the power to fix this.
But then I’m uncurling, too, as something strikes me. “You want to see your father?”
“It makes sense, Micah. He wanted me to find out what’s going on. Now I can tell him.”
She jumps to her feet, reaching her hands out for me to join her. Clambering up, I take them. “Are you sure?”
She nods emphatically. “I am. We don’t have the power to stop Hades. If I stop time again, he could go on another one of his soul-stealing sprees.”
And all I can do is teleport us so we don’t have to see it.
Kadence clasps my face, her palms warm and sure against my cheeks. “Maybe your mother can do something about it, too.”
Slowly, I nod. Surely, there’s enough evidence now. She wouldn’t sit back and watch this happen. “Not just a pretty face, huh?”
Against the odds, Kadence grins, her eyes sparkling.
As I lead her away from the tree, there’s almost a sense of relief. Maybe this was the part I was supposed to play. Now, I can step back and there’s no longer any risk of me making a wrong move.
The winding paths that take us to the gates slip through more acres of glorious gardens. I can feel Kadence tug on my hand occasionally, my guess is wanting to stop and admire, but each time she keeps going.
Deep down, I hope there’s a day I can show her everything.
We reach the gates, and I allow myself to pause. We came, we saw, and we didn’t run into anyone. It meant I had the honor of spending time with Kadence here, something that finally put heaven in Elysium.
I hadn’t realized how empty living here had been before Kadence. Not sure what that means, I file the realization away. Right now, we have some gods to talk to.
The path widens as it stretches into a veil of mist before us. I point toward it. “Olympus is that way.”
Kadence pauses. “Have you ever been there?”
I shake my head. “I’m top secret, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.” Kadence slaps her forehead. “Sorry, I forgot.” She angles her head, her lips soft in a semi-smile. “Must be because I can’t imagine a world without you.”
I swallow. Her words have my heart soaring, just as fear spears through me. “Kadence…”
I don’t know what I’m going to say. You are my world? I don’t know if I can ever be part of yours?
But Kadence is shaking her head. “I know. It’s okay.” She steps in close. “I don’t think you realize, Micah. Any time with you is a gift.”
How the tables have turned. I’m disarmed by her honesty, exactly what she said I would do to her up there on the rooftop.
I can’t tell her. But I can show her.
I grasp her face, framing her beauty with my palms. Her gray eyes smile and soften. Her red lips open and relax. Her body sways and surrenders.
I cherish her with my mouth. It’s a kiss of tenderness and yearning and hope.
A kiss overflowing with love.
Kadence sighs, but rather than being a vessel to be filled, she pushes up. She’s giving as good as she’s taking. She’s telling me she’s matching these emotions.
When we pull back, we’re silent, trying to catch our breath. It’s like all the emotion has sucked it clean out of us.
I rest my forehead against hers. “Kadence.”
She smiles. “Micah.”
A sound somewhere near the gates reminds me where we are. I step back. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
We haven’t spoken much about her father, but I get the sense demigod children don’t get to do home visits to Olympus.
“Totally sure. It’s the only way we can stop Hades.” She looks around. “Now, which way am I going?”
I point in the opposite direction of Elysium. “It’s down there somewhere. I don’t think it’s far.”
With a quick kiss, she spins around and starts walking away, a slight sway to her hips. The mist that surrounds Elysium quickly swallows her.
I shake my head, marveling that she can make me smile right now. This girl’s brave in a way I wish I could be.
Straightening, I pull in a breath. Now, it’s time to talk to my mother.
“Who’s the chick?”
I spin around to find Thomas standing on the path just within the gates, arms crossed. I blink, my surprise morphing to realization.
Thomas is no longer in his wheelchair.
I walk over, passing through the gates and striding past. “No one you know.”
Thomas quickly catches up. “We haven’t seen you around much.”
Frowning, I glance at him, almost wishing he was back in the wheelchair he never needed. It would be harder for him to keep up. “We?”
“Victor’s been wondering where you are.” Thomas pauses. “He thinks you’ve found your purpose.”
My steps falter. Is that what I’ve discovered?
“Of course, Edward is worried you’re messing up the whole system. Something about being an unknown variable.”
This time I stop. I don’t want to hear this right now.
“Thomas, it’s great to see you walking. It really is.” It means he’s accepting his new home. “But I’m kind of busy right now.”
I start walking again, only to find Thomas keeping pace with me.
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing the right thing.”
I flex my hands, like I can pump out the excess energy buzzing through my body. “Is that because I’m doing what you no longer can?”
Thomas shrugs. “Possibly. All I know, is given the chance, I’d do what I can to make things right.”
Our cottage isn’t far from the gates—it’s the first place new residents see. I used to enjoy welcoming them, being part of their wonder, giving reassurance to those who needed it. I thought that was my purpose…
Thomas crosses his arms. “She’s not here.”
“What?”
“Your mother. She’s been gone since you left.”
I frown, having no idea how long that’s been. A day, maybe two? Teleporting between time zones can have you losing track. “Do you know where?”
“Ah, the goddess of fate doesn’t keep me posted of her whereabouts.”
I realize I don’t even know where my mother goes most of the time. I always assumed she avoided Earth—it’s not like she’s ever gotten involved. That leaves Olympus or the Underworld.
“Micah.” There’s something in Thomas’ tone that has me tensing. “I’ve been watching Tyler.”
I sigh. “Maybe it’s time to let go, Thomas.”
Thomas shakes his head. “He’s not doing well. He needs someone, someone to believe in him. He needs hope, Micah.”
I spin around, frustration exploding through my body. “And what do you want me to do about it? I’m the son of the goddess of fate. The balance of fate is one that we don’t disrupt.”
Thomas arches a brow. “That same goddess had you. That certainly involved some contact with a human.” He angles his head. “And changing his fate.”
The frustration is gone as quickly as it detonated. I used to be okay with the contradictions life is based on. I accepted that uncertainty was certain.
I just hadn’t realized it would be so painful.
Thomas turns away, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Can you give him a message for me?”
I open my mouth to tell him I can’t do that, but Thomas must be expecting it, because he doesn’t wait for an answer.
“Tell him I wanted for him to believe.”
Thomas is gone before I can respond, not that I knew what I was going to say. I’m left standing in our front yard, cult
ured gardens around me, everything else a mess inside me.
And lost as to what to do next.
If my mother isn’t here, then I can’t have the conversation we’ve already hashed over.
We need to do something, Mom.
We can’t interfere, Micah. The balance is fragile.
But you’ve seen it. Darkness is coming. And now we have proof.
You will change the outcome, Micah. That is certain. It’s not guaranteed whether it’ll be for the better.
For some reason, I head inside anyway. Maybe it’s because I have time to spare and I’d rather not run into anyone else. Maybe it’s because I’m hoping the familiar comfort of home will help the pressure that’s feeling more and more like a live volcano in my gut.
Everything inside is the same, which makes sense, but feels strange. So much has changed in such a short space of time. The sound of the Loom greets me, the tick, tick, ticking filling the air with its rhythmic whispers.
I realize the Loom has the ability to answer my questions. The future I’ve created since I decided to return to Kadence has now been recorded in its intricate threads. The world is either better for it…or it’s not.
My nerves feel jagged as I approach it. My chest is too tight for a heart beating too hard. My feet feel like stones as I move toward the room.
The door is open, welcoming me. I hope it’s a good omen.
The Loom is weaving like it always has and always will, powered by the destinies it’s weaving. I swallow, discovering my mouth has gone as dry as the desert beyond Elysium.
My gaze falls to the fabric, scanning the braided threads. I’ll need to find the section of time and place where my presence has touched.
I gasp, finding it quicker than I expected.
Stepping back, I blink. Then blink again.
I stare as I desperately wish I wasn’t seeing what’s before me.
The darkness has bloomed, almost exploded across the threads. New York is the worst, a growing stain of coal. It’s spreading like a virus, intractable in its momentum. There’s no balance anymore, it’s only a matter of time before the stains start to join. The shadows are swallowing the light of humanity.
The ugly black blotches tell me we haven’t made this better.
We’ve made it worse.
Kadence
The mist envelops me almost instantly, as if it was waiting to absorb me, and the world around me becomes swirling white. I swipe my hand through it, noticing there’s no dampness. The pearly mist is warm and glowing.
I can only see a few feet in front of me, so I follow what little path I can see. It feels like I’m in some strange limbo, time and space are around me, but indistinguishable. I figure my best option is to keep going forward, hoping my destination isn’t too far away.
When it parts only a few minutes later, I find my breath picking up in excitement. Am I there? Am I finally about to see Olympus?
Instead, a woman appears, the fog parting as she steps through. I know instantly this is Moira, goddess of fate. Maybe it’s the white lab coat, or her hair piled up high in an intricate weave of braids. Maybe it’s the way even the mist seems to hold its distance from her.
But I realize, it’s the eyes. She has Micah’s Mediterranean blue depths.
She doesn’t smile, but she’s not frowning, either.
I stand frozen where I am. I’ve never met another god. Am I supposed to curtsy? What do I call her?
“Hello, Kadence.”
I startle. She knows who I am. Of course she does. She knows who everyone is. “Hello. Ah, Micah is back at your, the, ah, house.”
Moira doesn’t move. “My son already knows how I feel about the choices that are being made.”
The nervousness evaporates. Micah is torn enough about what’s happening, he doesn’t need that sort of crap heaped on him. “I don’t think you realize how serious—”
“I’m the one who is watching this unfold, child. I am well aware of the seriousness.”
“Well, then—”
Moira takes a step forward, her body stiff and tight. “I’m also the one who knows the cost of interfering.”
I snap my mouth shut, not sure how to counter that. Maybe I need to try a different approach. “Micah is special. He’s…” I shrug. There’s no other way to put it. “Amazing. There’s so much good in him, and that good is only going to help others.”
“Of course you’d think that, foolish girl. Your human emotions are clouding your judgment.” Moira stalks toward me, and I brace myself, but she strides past. “I watched gunpowder as it was created for medicinal purposes. I’ve watched every soul who has ever started a war begin as a baby being rejoiced.”
I clench my hands. “Why are you so convinced this is going to end badly?”
Moira maintains her momentum as she glides past, only looking over her shoulder once she’s past me. “If you know my son at all, then you’d see he belongs in Elysium.”
The mist inhales her and she disappears.
In a blink, she’s gone, almost as if the whole conversation never happened. It reminds me of the first time I met Micah. Appear, talk, disappear…never realizing the life changing impact their non-involvement just sparked.
Hearing Moira say those words just cemented my belief that Micah belongs where his heart is. I wonder if she’s ever asked him that.
Pausing, I wonder if I should head back. If she’s going to say that sort of stuff to Micah, maybe I should be there. But something tells me Moira isn’t heading toward her son. She knew he was here but had no intention of talking to him.
And I need to talk to a god who’s actually going to do something about this.
With a new purpose, I begin walking again. No matter what Moira says, Micah is part of this. And I refuse to believe that’s not a good thing.
When the mist abruptly dissolves, the light assaulting me feels too bright. I shield my eyes as if someone just blasted me with their headlights. I squint and blink, waiting to adjust, and the world around me slowly becomes discernible.
I quickly realize why leaving the mist made if feel like I just stepped out of night—Olympus is blazing with light. It’s like we’re too close to the sun, although the sky is nothing but brilliant blue. It refracts and ricochets, highlighting everything, missing nothing. It has me wondering if this is even something I’m supposed to see.
My father’s hall is in front of me, like the universe knew this is where I wanted to arrive. It’s colossal in magnitude, as if the gods themselves are giants, and I suddenly feel like an ant. Long, pale steps lead up to soaring columns of marble marching around the square structure, holding up a roof that’s as massive as it is delicately designed. Everything is pale white, absorbing the abundant light as if it’s a luminescent being.
I gawk, taking in the bold lines and intricate architecture.
The stairs beckon, and although I feel completely out of place, I climb them one at a time. I wonder absentmindedly if they feel as warm as they look, seeing as they’re perpetually heated by the sun.
Inside, it’s a vast expanse of more marble. It should be shadowed beneath the vast ceiling, but the infinite light even reaches in here. Despite the magnificence, it’s the center of the room that draws my attention, captures it, and doesn’t let go.
The Wheels of Time are everything I’d imagined they’d be…and more.
In a trance of awe, I creep forward. The wheels…there are so many of them. Floating, none touching, all interconnected, they spin at different angles and different speeds. There’s a gentle scraping, grinding sound, although there’s nothing to create friction.
Seconds. Minutes. Days. Years.
I step around, trying to grasp the enormity of it.
Decades. Millenia. Eons.
And I have the power to stop them all. It intimidates and fills me with privilege all at the same time.
“Daughter, what are you doing here?”
Spinning around, my heart vaults to my throa
t. “Dad…”
Dad is looking around, like he expects me to have company. When he realizes I’m alone, he looks at me incredulously. “How did you get here?”
Deciding to keep Micah out of this, I keep my answer short. “Teleported.”
“You learned to teleport?”
His question has me pausing. We can learn to teleport?
My father comes to stand before me, concern etched across his young features. “Kadence. What are you doing here?”
I pull in a steadying breath. “I’ve discovered what Hades is doing. He’s stealing souls for the Underworld.”
Dad’s chest fills as he realizes the consequences of this. “How?”
“A human has built health centers, all on Crossroads. The people are lured in with the promise of free services.”
My father begins to pace as he scratches his beard. “Crossroads are the only place Hades can access the upper world. But that still doesn’t explain how he’s harvesting their souls.”
The word “harvesting” has a shudder rolling down my spine. “We think he’s using photo booths. Something must happen when they go in to have their picture taken.”
Dad’s still pacing. He nods thoughtfully. “Photographs. For the briefest second, they preserve time.
I gasp. “They stop time!” I almost feel like face-palming. “How did I not see it?”
“See what, daughter?”
My gut roils as it hits me. “My guess is when I stop time, it creates an opportunity for Hades to take a whole bunch of souls.”
Any poor human who was in the health center the moment we found Hiroko.
Dad pauses in his pacing. “That makes sense. When time is stopped, the Crossroads would be easily accessible. Hades can harvest to his heart’s delight.”
There’s that word again…harvest.
The gut churning intensifies, making me feel a little nauseous. Hades’ plan has been unfolding for longer than we realized. “That’s not everything, Dad. He has more than one demigod child.”
Dad was about to start again, but he doesn’t get a chance. “Twins?”
I shake my head. “One is male, the other female, both born of different mothers. Heath has a half-sister, Hiroko.”
