Chapter 16 #2
"A replacement lure," Hecate corrected. "Since the princes proved... uncooperative. She intends to birth a being of pure, concentrated magic. A beacon brighter than any sun. She will cast it into the void to draw the Devourer away."
My hands curled into fists. "I won't let her. That child... it would be made from me. I won't let her create a life just to feed it to a monster."
Hecate lowered her torches, the flames turning blue. "And there is the knot in the thread."
She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper that sounded like danger.
"If you stop her," Hecate said, "if you destroy the project, if you deny her a lure... the Devourer will not stop. It is already at the gates of Olympus. If it isn't distracted, it will consume the High Seat. It will eat Hera and every other god. It will eat the very history of the stars."
I stared at her, the weight of her words settling onto my shoulders like a yoke of lead.
"You are telling me," I said, my voice trembling, "that if I save myself... if I save the child she wants to make... I am committing genocide? I am dooming an entire race of gods?"
"An entire reality," Hecate clarified. "Millions of spirits. Countless histories. Gone. Digested."
The moral dilemma was a physical pain in my gut. I looked back at the vision of the crumbling city. I saw families running. I saw beauty turning to dust.
"That's not fair," I whispered. "That's not a choice. That's a trap."
"It is a crossroads," Hecate said simply. "My domain."
She circled me, her robes whispering against the misty floor.
"You are the Unbound, Aria. You have broken every chain they put on you. But freedom has a cost. If you unleash your wrath on Hera, if you storm Olympus and bring it down... you doom them all to the void."
"So I should let her kill me?" I demanded, tears of frustration stinging my eyes. "I should let her use my blood to make a snack for a cosmic horror? I should let her kill us?" I pointed toward where my frozen princes lay in the dark.
"I did not say that," Hecate said. She stopped, lifting a hand to touch my forehead. Her finger was cold as ice. "I am not here to tell you what to choose. I am here to ensure you know what you are choosing."
The fog thickened, obscuring the vision of Olympus. The silence of the cavern bled back in.
"We have to go there," I said, desperation making my voice sharp. "We have to find another way. There has to be a way to stop the Devourer without sacrificing an entire world."
"Perhaps," Hecate murmured. "Or perhaps some things are meant to end."
"Why help me?" I asked. "If you're an Olympian... doesn't this doom you too?"
Hecate laughed again, that dry, rustling sound. "I am older than Olympus, child. I was here when the first stone was laid, and I will be here when the last one falls. I do not fear the dark. I am the dark."
The world blurred, and the edges of my vision turned grey. The sound of water dripping returned, faint at first, then louder.
"Wait!" I reached out for her. "If I enter Olympus... will you help us?"
Hecate began to fade, dissolving into the mist. "I cannot interfere, Aria. The eyes of the High Seat are everywhere. If I tip the scales, they will notice. They will burn me, and they will burn you."
Her voice became distant, echoing as if from the bottom of a well.
"That is why you will not remember this conversation."
I stumbled, my legs feeling heavy. "What?"
"Knowledge is a weapon," Hecate’s voice whispered, surrounding me. "But it is also a burden. You cannot walk into the lion's den with the scent of my interference on you. Hera would smell it. She would know I betrayed her."
"No!" I tried to hold onto the memory, tried to clutch the image of the crumbling city, the truth of Hera’s desperation. "I need to know! I need to tell Kaelen!"
"You will keep the feeling," Hecate promised. "The seed of doubt. The understanding that your enemy is not a monster, but a mother. That will be enough to stay your hand when the moment comes. It will be enough to make you look for a third path."
White light swallowed me.
Wake up, Little Door.
I gasped, my body jerking violently as air rushed into my lungs.
My eyes snapped open to the dim, bioluminescent gloom of the cavern. The silence was gone, replaced by the steady drip-drip-drip of water and the comforting, rhythmic sound of heavy breathing.
"Easy," Flynn mumbled, shifting in his sleep. His arm tightened reflexively around me, pulling me back against his heated chest. He nuzzled the back of my neck, his stubble grazing my skin. "Still here. Still got you."
I stared into the darkness, my heart hammering against my ribs like a caught bird. I felt... terrified.
Why was I terrified?
I scanned the cavern. Kaelen was still keeping his vigilant, fake-sleep watch by the stalagmite. Thane was a silent boulder by the tunnel. Elias was curled in a ball. Steve the Skal was twitching in a nightmare.
Everything was exactly as it had been.
But I felt a profound, aching sadness in the center of my chest. It felt like grief. Like I had just watched something beautiful die.
I sat up, gently dislodging Flynn’s arm. I needed water. My mouth tasted like dust.
"Aria?" Kaelen’s voice was a soft rasp in the dark. He didn't open his eyes, but his head tilted toward me.
"I'm okay," I whispered, my voice shaking. "Just... a bad dream."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
I frowned, trying to grasp the edges of the nightmare. There had been a woman... and fire... and falling...
It was gone. Smoke in the wind.
"No," I said, rubbing my temples. "I can't remember it. Just a feeling."
I looked at the obsidian amplifier across the black water. It loomed in the darkness, silent and waiting.
"Kaelen?"
"Yes?"
"When we go there," I said, and I didn't know why I was saying it, but the words felt heavy, important. "When we face them... we have to listen. Before we burn it down. We have to listen."
Kaelen opened his eyes then. In the gloom, the gold irises seemed to glow. He studied me for a long moment, sensing the shift in my mood, the sudden weight I was carrying.
"Okay," he whispered. "We listen first."
I nodded, settling back against Flynn’s warmth, though the chill in my bones refused to leave. I closed my eyes, but the darkness behind my eyelids didn't feel empty anymore. It felt crowded.
It felt like I was standing at a crossroads, and every path led to a cliff.