Chapter 36
SHARA
As I rose from my chair, Rik immediately moved to follow me, but I lifted my hand to his chest, my palm over his heart. “I would like some time alone. I promise I won’t take any risks. I’ll either be in the grotto or with the goddess.”
Rik’s jaw tightened but he nodded. “As you will, my queen. Would you like Okeanos to be nearby in case you need the kraken?”
“No.” To soften my refusal, I cupped Okeanos’ cheek. “Though I would appreciate it if you could reach out to Undina and ask about Basilia. Since I’ve been out of commission all week, it’s possible she already went to Mykonos herself.”
Okeanos nodded. “At once, my queen. I’ll wait here until you return.”
I paused beneath my heart tree, breathing in the musky perfume of its rosebuds. Silky blood-red petals dropped to flutter like butterflies, landing on my hair. Brushing my face like delicate angel wings.
A dull ache of pain speared through my chest, exactly where the largest thorn had impaled me. I died on this tree. Willingly giving it my blood and pain to bring the grove back to life around my nest.
I wasn’t afraid of dying. Even if I never returned to this earth.
I feared losing my loves. My Blood. My House. Not the physical buildings but the family I had built. I refused to allow any harm to come to them, especially because of me.
Thierry’s bird dropped down to sit on my shoulder. :What this queen takes, she loves, and what she loves, she keeps for all time.:
I’d never said those words to him directly, but he knew better than most exactly what those words meant. :I didn’t think about what that meant for you when I tried to heal you. I’m sorry you’re bound to me forever.:
:I’m not sorry. Never one second of infinity.
I’m home. I belong to House Isador for all time.
Few are as lucky as I’ve been to love both of my queens, as well as my alpha.
Love is never a mistake, my queen, and no one loves like you.
Big. Fearless. Forever. The might of your love is your greatest strength.
When the world attempts to check the boundaries of your heart, you will only ever lose yourself if you doubt your love. :
He fluttered back up to a low branch, his head bobbing as I reached up to puncture my thumb on a thorn.
For a moment, I stood on the flat, smooth stone set as the edge of the grotto. Eyes closed, breathing in the steam. The peace of my grove. My nest. Leaves rustled overhead. Birds chirped and sang. Even the air flowed around me in an invisible, gentle melody of whispers and magic.
Inhaling deeply, I stepped over the edge and allowed the hot spring waters to close over my head.
I sank through dark water, waiting for the world to flip and turn inside out.
Then I emerged, expecting to find the Mother’s Triskeles table in front of me.
However, I sat in a deep, black tub. There wasn’t even any water, and my clothes weren’t wet.
Soft, warm lights illuminated the papyrus covering the walls.
Red, green, and lapis blue inks glowed like jewels.
The tip of Isis’ pyramid gleamed like liquid gold beneath a crescent moon. Upon this house, She builds Her future.
I hadn’t intended to come to my mother’s sacred room where she’d birthed me, though of course it made perfect sense. When I’d been in turmoil before, she’d soothed me like no one else ever could.
I needed to talk to Mother—my mother.
“Most beloved daughter, how may I help?”
My head snapped around to see Esetta sitting on a low bench beside the tub. Exactly where Lew and Thierry had waited for me, though they’d been facing the door, not the tub. I’d killed Lew, so he could see and remember his beloved queen’s name.
She wore the same white sheath as before, her luxurious hair spilling down around her like a massive cape. The very same hair she’d gifted me.
I surged up out of the tub on my knees beside her, my head in her lap, cushioned on her hair.
Arms wrapped tightly around her waist, I breathed in her scent.
Smoky incense, blue lotus, and swirling, endless sands of our homeland so long ago.
She picked up a brush and stroked it through my hair, followed by her hand, a soothing, steady glide.
She didn’t ask or pry or make any demands of me while she hummed a soft tune.
A haunting melody that seemed familiar, as if my fetal cells remembered hearing it even when I was in her womb.
“How do I know who to save and who to kill?”
Her hand never faltered as she continued brushing my hair. “By your love, daughter of mine.”
“But I didn’t know I would love Leonie when I saved her.”
“You did. Your blood knew. Your magic knew. Your instincts never lie, Shara. If you saw Marne Ceresa chained and wounded as Leonie, would you have given her your own blood to restore her to power?”
Despite the tears clogging my throat, I had to laugh. “No, absolutely not. She kept Okeanos chained at the bottom of her koi pond for a hundred years just in case she needed to use him.”
“Exactly. You would kill that fucking bitch as she deserves, and she would thank you for putting her out of her misery.”
“Will I love Basilia?”
“Only you know the answer to that question, and you may not know until you see her with your own eyes. Then, your heart will know.”
I lifted my head and Esetta smiled, her eyes gleaming with pride and joy at seeing me. “You saw infinite possibilities. You even saw me as Keisha Skye’s sibling.”
She nodded. Once. Already knowing what I would ask, though I, too, already knew the answer, so I simply stated the truth out loud.
“If I were to end up any other queen’s sibling, I would lose Guillaume.”
She nodded again, reaching up to tuck a wandering strand of hair back from my face. “The Triune Executioner is a prize any queen would kill to win, as I won him for you.”
My jaw tightened and I nodded. “Then I know what I must do.”
She kissed my forehead, her hair gliding around me like a black velvet curtain. Enclosing me in her scent. Her magic. Her love. “My daughter, how I love you. May I ask you to complete one task for me?”
“Always, Mother.”
“In my hair, you carry a golden disk called a Gorgoneion. It bears a likeness to Medusa. I once saw Basilia decades ago, and she wanted it desperately, but I couldn’t give it to her without revealing the truth about who had killed Desideria.
See that she receives it, and tell her I would’ve given it to her then, if I could have. ”
“It will be done. I love you, Esetta Isador, daughter of the Great One but not the last.”
I opened my eyes, not surprised I found myself floating on my back in the grotto, my own hair over my face, blocking out the world. I let my feet drop to the submerged stones near the bank and stepped out of the pool.
Rustling his wings, Thierry chirped on a branch.
:Thank you, Thierry.:
:Always, my queen.:
I strode back toward my house, every step arming myself. Building my arsenal. My inner fortitude. My determination.
Esetta once told me a queen must make terrible choices to continue her lineage and protect her house.
This is mine. Not the first, and by goddess, it certainly won’t be the last.
GUILLAUME
In times like these, being unable to die was a severe handicap.
My sanity wouldn’t survive losing my queen. Even if she lived as Basilia’s sibling, I was under no disillusionment.
An experienced Triune queen knew the worth of the Executioner’s sword in her court. If Shara was forced to give throat to Basilia, I would no longer be allowed to serve House Isador.
And I couldn’t even kill myself—or ask anyone else—to put me out of my misery.
Like any seasoned soldier, I would pick up my sword and await my orders, no matter what they were. I would fight for my queen until I was forced from her side, whether by a stronger queen or the Mother of All. My honor would allow nothing less.
“Well, fuck,” the general said. “That went better than I expected.”
Rik grunted. “She heard our concerns. It’s up to her to decide whether she wants to take the risk or not.”
“Name one queen who’d ever listen to her Blood when her mind’s already set on her course of action,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s between her and the goddess now.”
“Shara Isador,” Nevarre said. “She will listen. Not just to us, but the goddess.”
Though which goddess, I wondered. She Who Is and Was and Always Will Be? Or Scáthach and the Morrigan, both battle goddesses of the dead. Or even Despoina for that matter, one of the most mysterious and unknown goddesses of all.
Or since Shara was going toward the grotto, she might ask the Mother directly. Gaia was the creator of all life, but She was also destruction and death. All of Her creations died to prepare the way for the cycle of life to continue.
Except me, evidently.
Transformation through death could be beautiful, as the butterfly emerged from its cocoon and unfolded its wet, stained-glass wings to glitter in the sunshine. Though I couldn’t help but feel more like a caterpillar, slowly melting and turning into goo inside a death trap it couldn’t escape.
Minutes passed like hours, and then we saw her coming back to the house.
Dressed in simple jeans, torn at the knees, with a T-shirt announcing some band I’d never heard of with a hockey mask logo.
Her lovely face was as grim and hard as I’d ever seen, as if she’d been given terrible news.
Her hair whipped around her as she approached, twisting into a long, thick braid that dragged the ground behind her.
Though not a single leaf or stick dared tangle in those glorious strands.
Sekh opened the door in advance of her approach. Without breaking stride, she came straight to me. Not her alpha.