Epilogue
EPILOGUE
TWO MONTHS LATER
T he ground rumbled, and the building groaned for the third time that month. Nate rolled out of bed and pulled on pants as Rohan did the same. The first time, several houses had been destroyed, and a fire had broken out. The second time, a sinkhole had opened and swallowed the master blacksmith’s workshop and house. No one had survived.
A car had been found just outside of town, lodged up a tree.
Nate had spent the last fifteen days helping to rebuild the houses and forge, fetching and carrying and obeying others’ instructions because his building skills were not up to standard.
Everyone helped when they could.
No one understood what was going on.
Not even the Strega, which was far more terrifying than Nate thought possible. She was supposed to know about this kind of thing. It appeared as if someone from the human side was trying to open a doorway, even though that should be impossible due to the lack of magic.
Maybe.
Even magic was glitching, and the gods had no explanation.
Whatever it was, it was getting worse.
The ground shook, and the palace rattled around them.
“Get your shoes on. Something is wrong. It’s different this time.”
Nate muttered a curse and shoved on his boots. The metal chain around his neck bumped against his skin as he did. He pulled on a tunic and grabbed his cloak.
He hadn’t gotten it on before Rohan picked him up and ran down the stairs, carrying him as if he weighed nothing. Nate wrapped his legs around Rohan’s waist and held on. Something fell over, crashing to the ground. Other palace occupants were also making the scramble toward the door. They made it outside as the palace listed like a ship about to be swallowed by the ocean. Rohan wobbled as if unable to find his footing.
“Put me down.”
“No, the ground is…” A fissure opened to Rohan’s left, and he took a few steps away.
“Look at the stars,” someone shouted.
Nate looked up as the stars spun and began winking out. Terror turned his blood to ice. He wrapped his arms and legs more tightly around Rohan as he changed his mind about letting go. “Whatever happens. I love you. And these have been the best six months of my life.”
“Same, little human.” Rohan pressed his cheek against Nate’s. “But I fear for the next six months.”
The palace sank, swallowed by the ground, to the gasps and cries of those who’d lived there. Nate’s eyes prickled. The life he’d made was vanishing, and there was nothing he could do. He was about to lose his world again.
A ripple went through the air. A burst of magic or something else? The ground bucked as if trying to throw them off. Rohan crouched as the stars vanished.
Nate closed his eyes. “Don’t let go.”
“I won’t.”
Nate’s stomach dropped, and then he was falling.
He remembered the feeling, but he didn’t want it to be true. His back hit the ground, and Rohan landed on top of him. For several seconds, he couldn’t breathe, and he didn’t know if it was from shock, being winded, or because of the weight.
Someone screamed.
The earth gave another grumble and stilled. Whatever it was, it was over for the moment. And he was alive. Or at least he was reasonably sure he was, unlike last time when he’d been convinced he was dead.
Rohan groaned and pushed himself up. The thick gold ring in his nose glinted in the light. “Are you hurt?”
“I don’t think so.” Nate sat up with a wince. He might be a little bruised, but he’d be fine. They appeared to be in a park from the brightly colored play equipment. Though no one would be playing on it as it lay in a twisted heap. Rubble and people were littered over the grass.
“This is not Tariko,” Rohan said as he took in their surroundings.
“No.” Nate wasn’t sure where they had landed. He turned and searched for a street sign as an ambulance screamed past.
“A car,” Rohan spoke in English. “Your home.”
Nate listened as the wailing of sirens filled the night and streetlights flickered. While the people of Tariko had accepted him, listened to his tales of Earth, and taught him about their world, he did not believe Rohan, or the other non-humans, would be given the same kindness. He raked his fingers through his hair.
“Fuck. I hate this place.”
P an’s story is next in Magic and other Mishaps .