Epilogue
KIERA
One Year Later…
T aptaptap. My heart leaps into my breast at the sound and I glance across the desk before me, strewn with papers, but there’s no fuzzy black Spider Queen. The pain that echoes back to me from the loss of my familiar, so brave in the face of a God King that wanted to slaughter me, swells in me as fresh as if twelve months hadn’t passed.
She’s gone now, Aranea. Off to a different place where I hope she’s designing the most beautiful of webs and spinning to her heart’s content.
Taptaptap. This time, when the sound starts up again, I glance over to see the fluttering dark shape of a bird flapping its wings and pecking the glass with its beak.
“I got it.” Theos puts down the book he’d been going through and walks across the office that had once belonged to one of the Gods who had been an in-residence instructor within the walls of Riviere Academy.
Flicking the latch on the slice of square cut glass to the side of the depiction of what I now know is my mother’s incarnation painted into the transparent framework of the window, Regis’ crow flies in through the opening and lands on the edge of my desk. With a smile, I pat its little feathered skull, earning a demanding head-butting when I pull away to retrieve the note tied to its leg.
Unfolding the parchment and scanning the contents, I reach up and slide a fingertip over the bird’s head in a soothing motion. Theos ambles over. The heat of his body warms my side as he steps up and around the desk to peer over my shoulder at the letter sent by Regis from Perditia.
Theos hums in the back of his throat as he moves away from my side and around to my back. Hands dip and touch my shoulders, fingers digging into the sore muscles there. A groan emanates from my throat as the letter falls from my grasp and flutters to the surface of the desk.
“Seems like all is well with him and Ophelia, huh?” he asks despite already knowing the truth from what he and I both just read.
Planting both hands firmly on the edge of the desk, I let my head drop down towards my chest and relish in the feel of his kneading. “And Maeryn and Niall,” I mumble in response.
“Yes, I’m glad you asked her to go there and assist them in redefining the Perditia Academy. Maeryn’s got a good head on her shoulders.”
An unintelligible grumble escapes me, but no words. Sinking lower and lower into the chair as my bones and muscles liquefy into nothingness under his masterful touch, the sweet moment of relief is abruptly cut off as the door pops open and a heavy pair of footsteps intrude.
“If you’re here to tell me another young one has set fire to a building,” I say sharply without opening my eyes, “I’m going to tell you to throw yourself on the flames or face my fucking wrath.”
The rumbling, masculine chuckle that responds has my eyes fluttering back open to reveal both Kalix and Ruen standing shoulder to shoulder. A heavy snake curls around Kalix’s neck, its eyes shut as it rests against his massive pecs. I’m not bitter. Nope. Not at all. Even if I wish it were me sleeping on his chest right now. I sit up as Theos’ hands retract and rub my tired eyes.
“I’m still surprised you offered to train the younger Mortal Gods we freed,” Ruen says with a shake of his head. “I did warn you that they would be more than a handful.”
“What?” I snap. “Should I have left it to him?” I point to the Kalix. “Or him?” I turn my finger to Theos as he, too, walks around the desk to join his brothers, shuddering at the thought.
Reaching up, Kalix strokes a fingertip over the arrowed head of his serpent. The snake’s eyes open sideways in that unnerving way of theirs before closing once more. “My familiars love children,” Kalix replies. “They’re very tasty according to this one.” A glitter of that odd insanity of his in his eyes makes me question whether he’s joking or not. You never know with Kalix.
“That’s not why we’re here,” Ruen says with a shake of his head.
Leaning to the side, I crack my stiff neck and then push away from the desk, rising to join them on the other side. “Then why are you here?” I glance to the open door and a Terra— Iver is the man’s name, I remind myself, not Terra. There are no Terra anymore—pauses to offer a nod as he passes by with an armful of papers.
Kalix moves around his brothers, back to the door and quietly shuts it. I follow him, a frown pulling the corners of my lips downward. “What’s going on?” I demand, feeling a bolt of nervous energy strike through me. “What’s happened?”
Ruen puts his palms up in a placating gesture. “It’s fine,” he says, voice calm and even. “Nothing’s wrong. Nothing’s happened, but…” He exchanges a look with his brothers. “We do need to talk to you.”
I cross my arms protectively. In the year since the Gods left our world, much has happened and we’ve held many meetings between the four of us to discuss the future. Some instinct tells me that this one is different.
“What do we need to talk about?” My breath is uneven and choppy and no matter how I try to calm my racing heart, using every tool I learned under Ophelia’s tutelage, the last year has spoiled me. There’s been no danger like that I once knew; just list after list of things to do, people to help, society to rework.
If I can do all of that, surely whatever they have to tell me is nothing that detrimental.
Theos steps up to one side of me and takes hold of one of my wrists. Withdrawing it from my body, he clasps his hand to mine, twining our fingers together. The gold circles of his irises bore into me.
“It’s been a full year, Dea ,” he tells me, his voice dipping in that gentle way of his. “It’s time for us to move on.”
My frown deepens and I cast a look back to the others. “Move on?” I shake my head. “We have moved on.” I gesture around with my other hand. “Do you not see all of the changes that we’ve made?” Do they think that I am still mourning the loss of my mother? Of the life we once knew?
Kalix moves to my other side, capturing my free hand and locking his fingers around my wrist, a manacle of ownership if there ever was one. Jade-green eyes shift as his pupils tighten and grow slitted like that of a snake’s. Fuck. They’re serious about something, but I don’t know what it is—Ruen cuts off my thoughts with the answer.
“The book, Kiera.”
All at once, the rapid thud of my racing heartbeat slows to a sluggish stop. The book. I close my eyes.
“We need that book,” I say.
“Not anymore,” he replies. “It’s time to let it go.”
Fear drives a wickedly hot blade through my chest, carving an opening so great and wide that it forces me to lift my eyelids and face him, to face them.
“We’re not ready,” I insist. Caedmon’s book is the last piece of them that remains. “It’s been instrumental in all that we’ve done. Why do you want to get rid of it now?”
Ruen takes a step forward and as his brothers are on either side of me, holding me captive for his audience, he goes to his knees before me. His big body separates my legs and forces me to recline on the desk so that he can kneel between them. The pressure of their bodies so close makes my insides warm and tighten, but Ruen’s dark blue and purple eyes are heated by something more than sexual desire. They’re full of another emotion—love and understanding, compassion.
I force my head to turn, as if looking away is me running from what he wants to give me. Comfort. A part of me hates that I’ve come to rely so much on the three of them, that they now often know me better than even I do.
“It’s a powerful relic,” Ruen begins, “and I understand why you have used it to guide us in the last year.”
“Then, why do you want to?—”
“But,” he says, holding up a hand to stop me, “the book is becoming a crutch.” I shut my mouth and he tilts his head, examining me as if he can see past my exterior down to the heart of my emotions. “You think we haven’t noticed you taking it out late at night?” he asks. “Every time there’s a big question for you to answer, a problem for you to solve, you go to the book.”
“It doesn’t always give me what I need,” I say defensively.
“No, which means its usefulness is waning.”
“It’s part of Caedmon,” I remind him, them. “Do you really want to give that up? Knowing the future might help.”
“There was a reason Caedmon couldn’t reveal all the details of the future, Dea ,” Theos says, backing Ruen up.
I shake my head. “It doesn’t reveal all the details.”
“Little Thief.” Kalix’s hand tightens around my wrist.
Fuck . I close my eyes. “Fuck,” I say again, this time aloud. If even Kalix wants to get rid of the powerful relic of the Gods that are no longer in our world, then that must mean they’ve all come to an agreement. When the hell does that happen outside of bed?
Answer: Never. Well, ‘ almost never’ it seems.
“Do you remember what you promised when you decided to keep the book?” Ruen asks.
I do, which is how I know now that this has been a long time coming. I don’t know how, but they must have known that I would feel the need for Caedmon’s book even all those months ago.
“You cannot use it as a crutch anymore, Dea ,” Theos says. “You know it and so does the book.”
Twisting my head to meet his gaze, I narrow my eyes on his face. “You’ve looked inside it,” I accuse. That’s the only reason they could know that the last thing the book had given me in terms of answers is a spell that will bind it and keep it hidden. After all, as part of the ‘Gods’ from another world, but not living as they were, we’re not sure of the ramifications of destroying a piece of history that can also write the truth of the future.
Ruen’s hand is warm on my inner thigh and despite myself, I feel my body grow taut at the light, nonsexual touch. “You know we’re right,” he urges.
My head sinks down, chin against my chest. Closing my eyes, I allow myself to give into their demands, to the truth that I’ve known was coming for quite some time but have refused to acknowledge.
“Yes,” I say, the word a whisper on my lips. “I know.”
Their hands on my skin become kinder—even Kalix’s—petting, understanding, loving.
“It will be okay,” I hear one of them say—Theos or Ruen, I’m not sure. It’s not those words that ease the tight ball of anxiety in my heart though. It’s Kalix’s snake. Cold scales, warmed by his skin, slither from him to me, over my wrist and up my arm until the coil of the serpent’s tail curls around my throat.
If I have to give up the last part of our past then I want to do it with them next to me.
Night descends, and with it, a hushed quiet that only comes when the majority of people sleep beneath vast dark skies and stars that glitter in the distance. The moon hangs fat and heavy above our heads as the four of us stride out of one of the Academy’s side entrances. Now open to all who wish to leave or enter, no one watches us as we ascend a path towards the rocky cliffside where the ocean beats at the rocks and land that juts out of its depths.
Ruen strides ahead of our group and Kalix behind. At my side, Theos hovers close, but not touching as I hold Caedmon’s book to my chest. The leather-feel of its cover reminds me that it’s not animal skin that binds it together, but the divine flesh of a god—or rather, the magic flesh of an Atlantean.
My breath saws in and out of my chest the closer we get to the cliff’s edge.
Step after step, I follow behind Ruen’s strong back and though I’ve never wanted to admit weakness before—certainly not since the night my life went up in flames and my father was slaughtered by those bandits—I know that, no matter what the future brings, I will remain protected. By Ruen and Theos and Kalix. It’s enough to make me lift my chin and suck in a deep breath.
After several more minutes, the four of us slow to a stop where one of the stone statues from the courtyard has found its new home. I look up at the carved features of Caedmon’s face, taking in his full lips and resolute brow. Wherever he is now, I hope he’s found happiness.
“Kiera?” Glancing over, Ruen holds out a hand, reaching for me.
I step away from Theos and release the book with one palm, taking what he offers. He helps me into position before Caedmon’s statue and then, I flip open the book, letting the wind that swirls around us scatter the pages back and forth until they stop, landing upon the last bit of writing.
Goodbye, my children.
Grazing a fingertip over those words at the top of the page, I feel my chest squeeze tight and then, I recite the ancient words spelled out below. I say them once and the wind picks up speed spinning around us.
Ruen says them, mimicking the same syllables, and the ocean at our backs roars its answer.
Kalix recites the same passage, voice cold as the sudden chill that sweeps through the air.
Theos repeats them and all goes silent.
Close your eyes.
Biting down on my lip, hating the words written at the end, still, I follow the command. I know without checking that the others have done the same.
All at once, a warm hand touches mine. It’s not Ruen or Kalix or Theos. My fingers grasp the edges of the book, trembling.
“It’s alright,” a low male voice whispers. “It’s time to let go.”
His hands ease my grip with a tender touch and soon, the book is leaving my palms. When next I open my eyes, it’s to see nothing before me. No ghost of Caedmon. No whisper of the book itself. I don’t realize I’m crying until a male chest appears in front of me and Theos is crushing me to him, hushing my sobs with delicate murmurs.
He pets me, stroking my hair from the top of my skull down to where it falls at the small of my back. Though normally I would have kept it in a contained braid, tonight, I felt as though it needed to be free, and the curls dance in the renewed wind that spins all around us.
“It’s not the end,” Ruen says, a hand on my shoulder as I lift my head from Theos’ chest to look his way. Beyond him, Kalix has moved away and is standing at the edge of the cliff, staring out over the vast distance as if he can see something beyond in the darkness.
“No,” Kalix says, agreeing before looking back, green-slitted eyes glimmering beneath the light of the moon. “It’s a beginning.”
I sniff hard, the sound as indelicate as I am as a woman. Theos chokes on a laugh before turning his head away when I glare up at him.
“I want to go back,” I announce.
Ruen nods, but despite that, no one moves a muscle. Not for a long time.
It could be minutes or it could be hours, but when we finally leave the statue by the sea’s cliffside and walk back to the Academy, I think to myself, They’re both wrong.
This moment, right here, is both an end and a beginning.