49. Kiera
Chapter 49
Kiera
A spray of sea salt air slaps me in the face as Ruen, Kalix, Theos, and I step onto the slated wooden boards of the Ortus Island docks. The dusky sun rises over the churning surface of the waves that lap at the sunken pillars beneath our feet, keeping us aloft.
A perpetual confusion permeates the crowd of Mortal Gods, recently awoken from their slumber, as they follow us and gather upon the grounds at our backs. No one can quite believe that the Gods are gone, but the truth cannot be denied. The sky as the sun pierces the clouds in the distance is brighter than it has been before—as if a shroud has been lifted away from us all. Ruen and Theos flank me and then to Ruen’s left, Kalix.
Ships as big as the ones that brought us here what feels like a lifetime ago now bob along the ocean’s waves, drawing nearer and nearer. This time, though, there are no macabre half-dead sea women carved into the front of their hulls. That, more than anything else, feels like a solidly good sign and I would pray that it is … except … well, there’s no one to pray to anymore.
Turning back, I glance over my shoulder and spy several familiar faces beyond. My lips part in shock. It’s not Maeryn and Niall that I’m looking at but the faces of Darius and Enid and even Malachi. My sight has splintered into two and I suspect it’s my father’s ability—now my own—that causes the lapse in vision.
Nestled amongst the Mortal God children of both Riviere and Perditia, are white glimmers of other God children from the past. Those who have been lost, their faces waxy and lean as if they’ve lost all their luster and life because their hearts no longer beat, are stationed along with the survivors of the last scar the Gods have left upon Anatol.
Us. We are the scars upon this land. The last remnants of what they did to these people. We are the present and someday, we will be the past. I am determined, though, that we will leave this place better than it was when we arrived. After all, that’s what generations are supposed to do, isn’t it?
Shouts draw my attention away from the ghosts of those lost before we ever knew what was happening to us back to the ships as they pull up alongside the docks. Sailors race around above, the sounds of running footsteps and commands being called telling me that they’re hurrying to settle the ship into place before it rocks forward and slams into the glassy stone crown that is the Ortus Academy’s corpse.
When a familiar face pops into view and a rope descends around the side of the railing before that face is racing down its length, sandy-colored dreads tied back away from his face, I release a breath of relief. I was wondering how we were to get off this island, but I should have known that Regis would come through for me.
I take a step forward, but the second his boots hit the dock’s planks, he’s running ahead and barreling into me. Strong arms close around me and his scent of a clean breeze and slight sweat is more nirvana to me than anything that has come before. I allow myself to be dragged against his chest and I hug him back.
Tears burn in my eyes, and for what feels like forever, I hold them off until I can’t anymore. They cascade down my cheeks, scorching their paths anew without a care for how it makes me look. Weak. Exhausted. Relieved to see him.
“Kiera.” Regis cups the back of my head and holds me to him, rocking the two of us back and forth. He doesn’t stop, not even when the distinct sound of a man clearing his throat pointedly sounds behind us or when Kalix’s low, deep growl of annoyance starts up. I know it’s because I haven’t let him go yet. I should. I don't want to cause any bad blood between my best friend—because yes, in spite of the past and betrayals, Regis is one of my best friends and someone I would die for—and my…
My thoughts drift and I straighten away from Regis. When he sees my face, his softens. “Oh, Kiera.” He reaches up and wipes away my tears. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
I shake my head. Okay? That feels like such a plain word for what I feel. It almost feels surreal, everything that happened mere hours ago, as if it’s all one of Ruen’s elaborately woven illusions of grandeur. But it’s not.
I can feel the absence of the Gods, of their so-called Divinity and all of its insidious shadows, in my heart, in my very bones.
“There’s—” Regis’ words are cut off suddenly as a second rope is thrown over the side of the ship and a new figure appears over it, descending to the boards beneath our feet.
Ophelia’s boots land with a loud thumping sound. She takes a moment to right herself as Regis turns to the side and then, she’s striding towards us. “What happened?” Her words are commanding, an order for information.
My spine straightens, and as if they sense my need, the three Darkhavens stride up to meet us. “The Gods are gone,” Ruen announces, directing the words to the leader of the Underworld. Her dark hair, striped with gray at the roots is pulled back into a tight braid that sways at the back of her head. She stands a good several inches taller than me, but even her height is no match for the men surrounding us.
“How?” she persists as if she doesn't notice the winds of change that surround us all.
Theos gestures to me in answer. “She made them leave.”
Ophelia’s eyes land on me, widening with surprise. “ Made them leave?” She repeats the word, somehow making them sound awed and like a question all at once.
I nod. “They contaminated this world,” I say. “They wrecked the people who originally lived here and it was time for them to go. They needed to return what was not theirs to take.”
Stunned silence follows in the wake of my words, both Regis and Ophelia's jaws dropping in a synchronized motion of shock. It's almost enough to make me laugh, but I suppose it's more than enough for Theos because he releases a snort that breaks the quiet.
"I know," he says, planting his hands on his hips and dipping his head low. "I wouldn't believe it either if I didn't see what she did with my own eyes."
Regis stares at me. "What did you do?" he asks as if he can't quite believe what we're telling them.
I shrug, palms up and out. "I opened a way for them to return to their original world."
"That's not part of your abilities," Ophelia states.
"She has more than one ability," Ruen answers the unspoken question.
Ophelia glances between me and him before resettling on my face. "Your father?" she guesses.
I nod. "I know that not all Mortal Gods retained the abilities of their parents, but I guess I do. My father's ability was called sunder according to Caedmon and my..." I have to look down as I finish, eyes boring invisible holes into the wood at our feet as I do. "My mother."
A beat of silence passes and then, Ophelia clears her throat. "I see."
I lift my head, but she's not looking at me. Instead, she's looking past our little group to the students gathered yards away, watching us with both curious and fearful gazes. They have no idea what happens for them now. They're used to understanding one path—the path to follow the Gods' will and live under their control forevermore. Now, the whole wide world is open to them and it's a daunting realization for most.
When you've never had the chance to make a decision for yourself and you're suddenly asked to do everything on your own, too much choice can become a terrifying nightmare.
I pity them and I know, despite what I've always desired about having my own freedom, that I cannot leave them. They need someone to ease them into the world, to teach them how to survive.
"What happens now?"
For a moment, I'm sure my thoughts have somehow manifested themselves into the open air surrounding us, but that question wasn't spoken by me, rather by Regis. Suddenly, all eyes are on me—even Ophelia's. Everyone is staring at me like I hold the secrets of the world at my fingertips and only I can interpret them. I consider my words before I speak, and though they may sound uneven and blasé, they are anything but.
"I don't know." There are so many lives that hang in the balance with the absence of the Gods, so much reworking of society to do and I can't do it all. I am nothing if not honest in this moment. I have no fucking clue what we're going to do now, but I do know one thing. "We need to take it a step at a time."
Ruen's head tilts back and then down. "I agree," he states, eyeing both Regis and Ophelia. "I say we get everyone aboard your ships and head for the mainland first. We need to get back to Riviere."
"Why?" Regis tilts his head as he looks back at Ruen, true confusion on his features. "With the Gods gone, you don't have to go back there."
"No," Ruen says, "but for them." He nods to the gathered crowd of Mortal Gods. "It’s all they know. They'll feel safer in a place that they recognize as their home."
"What about those from Perditia?" I ask, turning to him.
Frowning, Ruen turns to survey those standing behind us. With his arms crossed and his feet braced shoulder width apart, he looks like a general looking over his army and coming up short with what to say. I bite down on my lower lip to keep from laughing once more, especially when several of the onlookers at the front of the herd take a wary step back.
Stepping away from Regis and walking over to Ruen, I place a hand on his shoulder, sliding it around to his arm as I move to his side. “Don’t scare them too badly,” I quietly urge. “They just lost their parents.”
Kalix snorts. “Their parents were a bunch of greedy assholes who wanted to strip them of their lives in order to live longer,” he points out.
I shoot him a glare. “So?” I snap. “It’s not the actual people they’re mourning, it’s the potential.”
Kalix waves a hand at me as if saying it’s all semantics to him and he couldn’t give a shit less even if he tried. I return my attention to Ruen to find his midnight gaze locked on mine. Since being freed and the end of our battle with the Gods, he’s washed up some, but there are still some healing bruises and cuts on his face and arm. He remains as handsome to me as he was the day I realized that this damaged, brooding man was one of mine—when that day was, though, I can’t guess.
“Those from Perditia are going to want to go back to their own Academy,” he says.
Quiet descends over the group and this is what I feared most about what is to come next and the true reason for my ‘I don’t know’ answer. I want to give these people the freedom to make their own choices, but doing so also puts mortals at risk. Mortal Gods have lived their whole lives being given what they wanted by mortals due to the hierarchy of our society, but now that’s gone and a new one must take its place.
“I will take them,” Ophelia announces.
As one, all heads in the nearby vicinity turn to her. “What?” I couldn’t have heard her right.
She nods and settles her hands on her hips as she strides to stand alongside Ruen and me. Her gaze scans the ground. “I will take them back to Perditia,” she says. “The Underworld is gone now, thanks to my son. Our headquarters was revealed and we cannot return.”
I blink. Carcel. I’d completely forgotten about Carcel and the soldiers of the dead he’d attacked Regis with. Whipping my head to my friend, I part my lips to ask when the question is answered by Ophelia before the words can even spill forth.
“He was working with one of the God Council,” she states. “To take over the Underworld.”
“Take over the Underworld.” I shake my head in disbelief. The Gods would never have allowed that. They must have been using him. “Where is he now?”
Ophelia’s face grows tight and her gaze distant. It’s Regis who answers. “We tracked him back to the headquarters,” he says. “He was attempting to set up the soldiers he had as his personal guard and new assassins.”
I want to ask how that would have worked since, according to Regis before, they’d been dead men walking—corpse soldiers without a will of their own. Regis steps around our trio—Ophelia, Ruen, and me—and rocks back and forth on his heels. “Obviously that would never have worked.”
“Do you know which God he was working with?” Ruen asks.
Regis blanches but nods. “Azai.” I close my eyes. Of course. The Darkhavens’ father was nothing if not intent on getting what he wanted. Killing off those in my background to garner more information for Tryphone is just the thing he would have done.
“He doesn’t have the ability to raise the dead though,” Theos points out from behind us.
Regis turns his head, looking back at my golden-haired Darkhaven. “No, but he had lower Gods under his control,” Regis answers. “He was using them as the go-between and it took a lot of hunting to find the God on the mainland and get information from him. Once he was killed, though, the dead soldiers were no more.”
“So, Caedmon wasn’t lying,” Ruen says lightly, “about mortals being able to kill Gods.”
Regis’s brow puckers. “No, I suppose not.”
Unsure if I should reveal what I know, I gaze at my friend for a long moment. Ruen says something and Regis responds before Theos comes into view, his eyes flickering between us and the crowd. In the end, though, I don’t offer up my suspicions. Telling Regis that he’d most likely killed a someone who’d somehow survived and escaped a power siphon won’t help. To know that he’d killed someone who needed help more than murder might hurt him and he’s had enough of that now.
“So, where is this Carcel now?” Kalix asks, bringing me back to the conversation at hand. “You never did say.
Ophelia and Regis exchange a look. The secret conversation between Zalika and Nubo before Makeda had rescued me comes back to my mind and I know the truth, before either of them answers.
“I killed him,” Regis casts a look down at the wooden slats as he says the words.
My attention flickers to Ophelia and she makes it a point not to look at Regis or me as she speaks. “It appears Caedmon revealed the existence of our group in an effort to lead the God King away from information about you.” She shakes her head and without looking at me, continues. “Azai found Carcel and struck a deal with him to get rid of the current head—myself—and place him in charge. In return, he wanted information on your abilities and skills and anything else about you. My son was planning to get him that information before killing us all.” She releases a delicate snort of disbelief. “Were we caught, we would have been tortured regardless of whether or not we could provide information so the fact that he thought he was doing us such a favor by playing the great betrayer was foolish.”
“You would have given over exactly what he was trying to hide,” I guess with a sigh.
Ophelia’s head turns and she arches one fine brow at me. “Absolutely not,” she snaps. “My people and I are far more discreet than that.”
Confusion and surprise collide within me. “What?” I gape at her. “But you always told me that one life is not worth the lives of the many.”
With an eye roll, she waves a hand at me in far too similar a fashion as Kalix had. “That may be true, but we are assassins and thieves,” she states. “Even we have honor, and knowing you’ll be killed regardless of whether you give your enemy information or not only tends to make one more spiteful. I know I, myself, would have died before I offered them a damn thing on you.”
My heart slams to a stop within my breast. All this time, I’d assumed that Ophelia would sell me out in a heartbeat, that I was never truly a part of the Underworld, but merely a tool she used to get what she wanted. All that torture. All that training. I thought she and the Underworld were the only ones to receive that kind of loyalty. To find out that she would have protected me, that they all would have, even if it meant their deaths … this time, when my laughter comes, I don’t try to suppress it.
A bubble of amusement creeps up my throat and I find myself crying as I double over, hands planted on my knees as I heave in great big bursts. Laughter flows forth, over and over again as tears stream down my face. I arch up and press my hands flat to my belly.
In hindsight, I suppose, I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, the younger me didn’t think she deserved loyalty or love. The younger me blamed herself for her mother’s disappearance and father’s death. The current me, though, she and I know the truth. Life is all about looking back and seeing the reality that you couldn’t while you were in the midst of it all.
When the laughter drifts away, I find myself reaching for Ruen’s hand and then the closest other Darkhaven, which happens to be Kalix. Theos joins us as I look out at the sea of Mortal Gods, all of whom wait for an announcement from one of us to decide their fate.
The truth is far greater than anything we could tell them. Their fate is their own and we intend to give them the chance that the Gods never would.