Chapter 2 #2
A strange noise sounded overhead, a hollow thump that pulled my attention away from Larka for a split second.
There was nothing but blue sky above us, as vast and as beautiful as anything I’d ever seen.
The sunshine felt so damn good against my skin, but it did nothing to keep my mind from wandering to the last moment I saw Cal.
He’d been sprinting for me over the rubble, his hand outstretched and his face twisted in terror as I was swallowed by the darkness.
He’d been alive then. At least I had that.
“I hope he’s okay,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut.
“The one good thing is that if he isn’t, he’ll be here.”
My breaths picked up speed, and I fought to keep them even.
Dread coiled in my gut, icy and covered in thorns.
No. I wouldn’t let dread take over. I imagined myself cloaking the dread with warmth, thawing it out until it was malleable enough to shape into something like hope.
I’d see Cal again someday. He’d be here, with his good heart and gemstone eyes.
I’d see them all again, Miles and Nell and Whit and Solise and even Ma, as angry as I was at her.
That was when I remembered.
I straightened, lodging a fist in Larka’s arm. Her face pulled up in surprise, her hand moving over the spot where my fist had made contact. “What the hell was that for?”
“Fuck you for not telling me about Elin!”
Larka’s eyes rolled dramatically. “So she did tell you?”
“ Yes , she told me you two were in love and planning to move to Zidderune. Would’ve been nice to know that!”
Larka turned her palms up and shrugged. “Well, you had to wait until I died to run off and become queen. So, I guess we’re even.”
“We are most certainly not even.” I reached out to place a hand on her shoulder. “I’m your sister, Larka. You could’ve told me.”
Larka opened her mouth to respond, but slammed her mouth shut as she nodded. “Yeah, I could’ve. I’m sorry I didn’t.”
I sighed. “Don’t be. I feel guilty for her death.”
Larka snorted. “Don’t. She’s here with me now,” she quipped with a smile, but the smile contorted. “That’s a bit fucked up to say, yeah?”
“I mean…” I trailed off, still trying to wrap my brain around the fact we were here. “Wait a moment.”
“What?”
“That must mean…”
As if pulled toward me by an invisible force, a figure crested the small hill at the side of the garden.
He stood straight as an arrow, strong, steady arms laden with firewood.
Each log fell to the ground and rolled down the slope.
But it wasn’t tremors that caused them to fall. Not this time. Never again.
“Petra?” he asked, disbelief lining his familiar features.
I shot to my feet, hurtling for the garden gate. “Da!”
◆ ◆ ◆
“You’re still my Da,” I whispered to his smiling face. The only thing I’d told him so far was of Katia and Rhedros, and he hadn’t even flinched at the truth.
“I know, love,” he answered, a familiar grin on his face. “Cannae lie and tell ye I’m surprised. Don’t think I could’ve produced somethin’ so lovely as ye.”
“And what does that say about me?” Larka asked, outraged.
“The mouth on ye Larka is proof enough y’er mine,” he laughed, ruffling her hair. She stuck her tongue out at him as she combed through the strands with her fingers.
The three of us sat at the table on the porch of the house, the breeze sailing pleasantly over my skin.
Sitting across from me was a perfectly healthy version of Da.
That, I could tell just by looking at him.
There was no sign of the tremors that had plagued him his entire life.
His voice didn’t shake when he spoke. He was tall, broad, and muscled.
My father, the way he should’ve always been.
And so came the recounting of my entire story again. Larka listened just as intently as she had the first time, filling in details she somehow already remembered. I’d finally reached the point where Castemont fell beneath the rubble of the castle, incinerated by drivas.
“Excuse me, what ?” Larka spat, her shoulders stiffening.
“Did you just say drivas ?” I rubbed at the back of my neck and shrugged apologetically.
“Elin!” Larka shrieked, and the woman craned her neck around the doorframe.
“Did you forget to tell me about the fucking drivas that flew in at the end of the battle?”
Elin’s eyes widened then blinked slowly. “Drivas? I must’ve kicked the bucket too early,” she joked dryly, but there was a look of wonder in her gaze as she disappeared in the house once again, giving us privacy.
“I guess I forgot that detail,” I said with a shrug .
Da’s palm hit the table, a raucous, hooting laugh rumbling from his chest. “What a thing to forget!”
“A lot has happened recently, okay?” I mumbled, rubbing my hands over my face.
Something dug into my gut — a small seed of something unsettling.
A restless uneasiness, as if I wasn’t in the right place, as if I didn’t deserve to be here.
Like I hadn’t earned this peace. I tried to will it away the way I had the dread, but it was rooted firmly in place.
I pressed my hands into my stomach in an attempt to staunch the discomfort that was so at odds with the beauty of our surroundings.
My feet began to tap against the wooden deck.
My father’s brows furrowed. “What’s wrong, Petra?”
A shuddering sigh left my nostrils. “I’m not sure. This just feels so final.”
“It’s a wee bit final, aye,” he answered with a smile. “Death is final, but it’s also infinite. This is where we’ll spend eternity. No pain, no strife. Ye can do whatever ye want without thinkin’ once o’ survival.”
I laced my fingers together in an attempt to keep myself from fidgeting. “Is there a way to find out who else died in the battle?”
Larka’s head dropped to one side as she thought. “We may be able to find out if we go to the Gates. That’s where we’re supposed to enter.”
Da raised a brow. “She didn’t come through the Gates?”
“No.” Larka’s finger pointed to the patch of grass, which was now unceremoniously squished in the shape of my body, and the pile of armor next to it. “Sort of just appeared over there.”
Da’s head cocked to the side. “Int’resting.”
“So,” I started after a beat of silence, “this is Heaven. Does that mean Soren is here?” I knew nothing about the Saint of Heaven beyond his name. Was he my uncle? Just a friend of my birth mother? An apprentice?
“Yeah,” Larka answered. “He lives down the street.”
“Very funny,” I replied incredulously .
Larka’s brow furrowed, gesturing behind me. “I’m serious. He lives down the street.”
She stood, gesturing for me to follow her as she traversed up the small hill.
I blinked in disbelief when I saw what lay before me.
A town nestled in between rolling green hills, houses and buildings all perfectly manicured under a sky full of sunshine.
Each house was unique, each yard and garden different.
“This is the Central District,” Larka explained as she saw the disbelief on my face.
“There’s also the Coastal District, the Mountain District, the Lake District, and the Meadow District.
Everyone ends up where they’ll be happiest. We can visit the other districts once you get settled.
There’s a patisserie in the Meadow District I think you’ll love.
” She gave a contented sigh before she pointed to the massive structure — no, castle — toward the right of the town, about a half mile from where we stood.
She didn’t need to point it out, though, because its rose-colored marble spires were impossible to miss.
Much of the castle was wrapped in vines with red flowers so bright I could see them all the way from here. Water cascaded from the highest turret, landing in a crystal pool at the base of the castle. I could count a dozen more small fountains tucked between the spires and stairways.
“You weren’t kidding,” I breathed, still in awe of the scene sprawled before me. “He really is down the street.”
Larka looked at me with a knowing smile and a raised brow. “I bet he’ll want to meet you.” She grimaced as she leaned in just a bit. “But maybe we should wash the blood off your face first.”