Chapter 22 #2
Nya’s breath caught, a mix of relief and apprehension turning her stomach. That was Morgen’s voice.
“Apparently, they need you now, but they don’t need me! I’m just the reincarnation of some dead baby, and now, I’m going to be a dead—”
“Carus, calm the fuck down. You’re giving me a headache.”
“Sorry to break it to you, but I think your headache is just a result of all the bleeding you did out of your face. You can’t blame me for that.”
“Try me.”
Their footsteps shuffled closer then stopped abruptly. She bit her lip when it started to wobble, tears threatening to spill over her cheeks.
“Nya.” Morgen’s voice was even, but she could detect the hint of alarm in it, in the brush of his magic stirring the air. “What are you doing?”
She didn’t turn right away, forcing what she hoped was a composed expression before she twisted and found Morgen leaning slightly against Carus, who had an arm slung around his shoulders to support him.
“I really hope you didn’t portal here,” she said. Her voice was as flat as she suddenly felt, as if all the emotion had drained out. She was an open wound, but even the worst wounds stopped bleeding eventually. “Otherwise, I’m going to have to agree with Carus and call you stupid.”
Carus let out an exasperated sigh. “I told you, Morgen.” He shook his head, catching her eye. “I told him, but he would not listen.”
“You shouldn’t have let him.”
Carus barked out a harsh laugh. “It was that, or let him attempt to kill everyone in that house when they tried to stop him.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Does anyone else know I left?”
“Not yet,” Carus muttered. “But they will soon, and they will not be happy!”
She ignored his outburst, glancing at Morgen. “You knew, though.”
“Of course,” Morgen said, voice impatient. His eyes kept darting to where her legs dangled, and she wondered if he knew just how dark her thoughts had turned. “For several reasons, which I will explain once you get off the cliff.”
“As if I’m going to jump,” she said bitterly.
His eyes grew hard. “Why? Because you don’t want to, or because you know it will kill me too?” When she didn’t bother replying, he paled, eyes so dull, they looked nearly black. “I thought so.”
“It would be for the best, and I would do it if I could,” she said in a hollow voice.
Carus’ eyes widened, and he opened his mouth, but Morgen cut him off with a snarl. “Don’t ever fucking say that again.”
She didn’t reply, staring at the churning water below, imagining how easy it would be. Easier for her to not have to feel this pain, easier for this world and especially for the council of principals. She did not actively want to die, but she was so tired of the burden of living.
“Nya,” Morgen said, his voice much softer now, almost a plea. “Come away from the cliff.”
She shut her eyes, digging her fingertips into the dirt below.
Breathe, he said down the pathway. Just breathe. You’re not alone in this, I promise.
She opened her eyes, finding a pale white moth flitting through the air in front of her.
It flapped its delicate wings and then disappeared behind her, toward Morgen and Carus, away from the cliff.
A small thing of simple beauty, one of many tiny facets that made this world what it was.
If she died, so would Morgen, and everything would be reduced to ash. She did not want that.
She wiped the tears from her eyes and scooted back, away from the edge. When she settled on the ground, picking at the small blades of grass beneath her, Carus eyed her warily.
Morgen ducked out of Carus’ grip, his eyes on Nya as he said, “Be somewhere else for a while.”
To his credit, Carus didn’t hesitate, meandering towards the nearby patch of trees. Once he was out of sight, Morgen sat down next to her. She didn’t look at him, not even as she whispered, “This is my fault. All of it.”
He was silent for a long minute. Then, he said, “Maybe it is.”
She turned her head in surprise. “So why are you here?”
He lifted a hand and brushed his fingers under her chin, tilting it so she had no choice but to look directly at him. “Lots of reasons.”
“Care to explain this time?”
He didn’t balk at the bite in her tone. He just stroked his thumb up her cheek and said, “Because if it’s your fault, it’s mine too.”
“That’s not—”
“Because Carus wasn’t lying—I would have done anything to reach you now. Having a bunch of dead principals on my hands would definitely not help my cause.”
“Which you need to return to. There are lots of people counting on you—”
“And because if you’re going to throw in the towel and decide you’re done with it, I’d prefer to be there with you than die alone in some stuffy room.”
Her breath caught, and she shook her head. “I wouldn’t have actually done it. The world might be better without me, but it needs you.”
“Screw the world.”
“You don’t mean that.”
He looked towards the cliff, slowly slipping his hand from her face. “I do. I’ve always known what the embers meant, and once Kronos was gone, I understood what would happen if I wasn’t here to carry them. That doesn’t mean there weren’t a few times I considered…not caring.”
Her eyes widened. “Morgen,” she whispered when she realized what he was insinuating.
“So, if you’re feeling selfish right now, imagine how I felt when Imeria or Carus, or even Varax, had to pull me away from some cliff edge, or even from the bottom of some creek bed.
Highly unpleasant, not to mention demoralizing, especially when your body pretty much refuses to die no matter what you do.
” His lips twitched in a sad smile. “But alas, the world needs me, even if it has never loved me.”
She almost said the words, but whereas before, when she’d hated and feared what she felt for him, now, her love just felt selfish, a chain he would never be able to detach himself from. Perhaps never saying it aloud would at least make the shackles of their connection less heavy.
“Thanatos and Vulcan suggested drugging me.” She laughed, the sound a little hysterical. “I have no idea with what, or if it would even make a difference. Maybe I should take them up on it. I’m sure whatever they have growing in Arcadia is stronger than gardroot.”
Morgen frowned, his nostrils flaring. “Did they happen to mention how long they planned to keep you drugged?”
She had the distinct feeling the question was more rhetorical, because he already knew the answer as well as she did. Even still, she muttered, “Probably forever.”
She laughed again, tipping her head back to stare at the dawn-hued sky.
She was vaguely aware she was unraveling a bit, especially when she rambled on, “Do you think they’d wake me up so I could pop out a few heirs for you?
Or do you think they would enlist someone else?
I bet Imeria is interested, which is probably for the best, given my magic.
I’m sure they don’t want a repeat problem. ”
When he didn’t respond, she lowered her gaze from above and found Morgen staring at her with something akin to horror on his face.
“What?” she whispered. “All the principals need heirs. It’s not that far-fetched to think they’d go to horrible lengths to get one.”
His throat worked, the scar pulling taut against his worryingly pale skin. “They can kill me and find a new king if they want that. I am never fathering children.”
She blinked a few times, taken aback. Someone else might automatically assume he meant children with her specifically, but she knew enough about him that it took all of a few seconds for her to understand why he felt the way he did.
His mother. All the women before and after her who had died because Kronos had impregnated them and their bodies could not withstand the embers the unborn child within them held. He thought that would happen if he… To her.
“Does it work like that?” she asked quietly. “Since you’re only a demi-god?”
“I’m not finding out.” He took a ragged breath.
“All those women he brought into the palace wasted away within weeks, and they died writhing in pain and begging. And he enjoyed it, just like he loved telling me how he had to chain my mother up to keep her from trying to cut me out of her belly because she knew what would happen to her if I was born.”
His eyes were so dull, he looked nearly mortal for a moment, until a tear slid down his cheek, clearly imbued with silver ether. Clearing his throat, he swiped it away quickly.
“I would never risk that. Not with anyone, and especially not with you.”
They both fell quiet, the roaring of the waterfall below a constant in the background as dawn bled into morning.
Now that it wasn’t dark, she could see the wide expanse of the lush field she had trudged through, dotted with wildflowers and long grasses.
Birds called to each other in the forest Carus had walked into, a mix of pine and spindly trees with trunks of peeling white bark.
Life.
Morgen was right. Having children would be a mistake, especially knowing what kind of magic she could pass on.
Still, some long-buried part of her quietly mourned the death of the idea.
It would be a lie to say she had never glanced over at him during those hazy afternoons in Mise and wondered if their children would have his eyes or hers, or if they would be tall or short. Not that it mattered anymore.
Nothing mattered, except finding a way to break their connection and save him and everyone else.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said.
She was sure he did, and not even because her thoughts had been ferried down the pathway. He knew her too well.
“Even if we managed to find a way to break the blood binding—which, by the way, is impossible—it wouldn’t change anything.”
“I could ask the principals,” she pushed. “There might be a way. Maybe Thanatos knows—”
“Nya.” His eyes were wide and intent. “It wouldn’t change anything.”
She had the distinct feeling he wanted her to know what he meant without him saying it.
Think about it.