Chapter 35
Just as the gleaming gold spires of Kronos’ palace peeked through the clouds, Soren doubled over on Thessa's back.
“What’s wrong?” Anabeth cried out over the roaring wind.
Soren smiled through the agony. “I think he managed to injure Kronos.”
Thessa circled the gleaming structure. If she wasn’t in so much pain, Soren would have rolled her eyes at the unnecessary exuberance.
At least six towers spiraled into the sky, nearly reaching the clouds.
The entire estate that the palace sat on was at least twice the size of the one in Aren.
Gates surrounded it, lined at the top with spikes, patrolled by an innumerable number of demi-god guards.
Kronos had created a near-impenetrable fortress for himself—too bad she had been here enough to know the best way in. The pain had subsided; they needed to hurry.
“Flat against her back!” Soren shouted.
Anabeth obeyed and rasped in her ear, “How exactly are we getting in?”
“The quickest way: the ceiling of the throne room is made of glass.”
Anabeth screamed as they dove, her voice lost as the glass neared. Just before they broke through, Thessa let out a roar, and a stream of white fire billowed from her open mouth. By the time they shattered the ceiling, most of it was already melted by dragonfire.
They landed, the force of it sending glass and debris flying. Thessa roared again, the sound echoing as Heles circled.
Take Anabeth to safety, Soren ordered Thessa, already sliding off her back.
Godling—
Now, before she tries to follow. Please, Thessa.
Thessa took off with one final, ear-splitting screech. Soren knew the sound was a mix of rage and sorrow. Her dragon knew what fate she could be leaving Soren too.
Soren coughed, the air thick with smoke and debris. But as it thinned, and she saw ahead to the raised dais where the throne sat, her spine went rigid.
Kronos held Vane in what almost looked like a lover’s embrace, his broad, golden arms wrapped around Vane’s waist. He was saying something in Vane’s ear with a smile, and in his hand…
Kronos had embedded Vane’s own dagger deep in his chest.
There was a spot of blood on Kronos’ torso, but she knew, deep down, the wound was already healed.
Kronos finally looked at her, his expression crazed as he grinned, showing every one of his gleaming white teeth.
A strand of brick-red hair fell into his eyes, swirling with both silver ether and gold—the manifestation of life itself.
“You always knew how to make an entrance, Sora.” His voice boomed through the throne room.
“Vane, on the other hand, tried to sneak in. Foolish. No one enters my palace unseen or unnoticed. I do admit, his skill with a blade has much improved since I last saw him—ah, was it really a century ago now?”
“One hundred and four years.” Vane’s voice was strained, and Soren curled her hands into fists. As much as she wanted to act now, she must wait. Kronos was inches away from killing him, and he knew it.
“He kept count. How sweet,” Kronos sneered. “It really is all coming back to me now. The way you both screamed. The sight of your blood on my gleaming marble floors. The smell of your burning flesh—”
Vane jerked, a low snarl escaping him. Kronos laughed and dragged a finger down his cheek. “Careful, there. One slip, and I might just kill you. Then, once she and I are gone forever, you’ll be forced to live…again.”
Soren felt the breath whoosh out of her. He knew their plan, which had to mean someone betrayed them.
“Don’t think so hard on it, Sora,” Kronos mused as the door opened behind her. “A child could have thought of my plan. It’s a shame dear Nyx doesn’t vet her servants more closely.”
She turned to see a man with dark skin and a head of golden curls stride into the room, dragging along a young girl. He let her go, pleading on her knees and kissing his boot-clad feet. His silver gaze flicked down as if she were a mere nuisance.
“Hello, my darling, trouble-making niece,” Sol sneered with a cold smile, plucking a speck of dust from his gold-threaded black tunic.
Behind him, two more principal gods filed in.
Bella, the goddess of war, wearing thick leather armor, flashed a sneer Soren’s way.
With her high cheekbones, cropped black hair and sharpened nails, she looked like a blade personified.
Next to her stood Janis, the god of duality and Juno’s brother.
He looked downright bored, tipping his head back and sighing at the broken ceiling.
“Trouble is right,” he muttered. “This will take days to fix.”
Kronos chuckled, shifting so Vane grunted in pain.
Bella snorted softly. “That is Vulcan’s heir? Pitiful.”
Soren kept her face blank, a mask for the rising panic inside her as Kronos drawled, “So, here we are again. Your plan was foolish, though I do commend you for getting this far. Now, the game is done, and you and I have a rather lengthy ceremony to attend. Though…you cannot wed me with a living husband. So,” he glanced down to the blade in his hand, “I better remedy that.”
Vane met her eyes across the room. I love you. I’m so sorry. I had to try.
Kronos’ hand jerked, and Soren screamed Vane’s name as the room plunged into an impenetrable darkness. The remaining ceiling and the stained glass windows lining the hall shattered, and a howling whirl of shadows swept up the pieces.
By the time she let the darkness clear, Soren was already running.
At the bottom of the dais, Vane took slow, uneven breaths, holding the dagger in his chest as he bled out.
Kronos was crumpled across the throne, his head hanging off the side and his unconscious body limp—for now.
She didn’t even look back to see where the other gods were, not as Vane began to choke on his own blood.
She reached him and fell so hard and fast to her knees, they cracked against the marble.
“Sora,” he choked out. Finish Kronos. Leave me.
“We said together, you eejja,” she snapped. “Just breathe and let me focus.”
His eyes fluttered shut, his breaths growing more uneven as she grasped at every hand Death wrapped around him. But Vane was crowded by the pull underneath the surface, where Death lingered.
“Father,” she rasped. “A little help, please?”
She swore she felt Death smile as he eased off, just barely, just enough for her to yank Vane free and shove him into the corner of one of those locked cells deep inside of her. Vane gasped as she pulled the dagger from his heart, pressing her hand to the wound to staunch the bleeding as it closed.
When he was breathing evenly again and fresh blood stopped coating his lips, she grasped for his hand. He took her offered palm, his grip strong.
“Incredible,” Janis murmured behind her, but she ignored him as Kronos stirred in the throne.
“Vane,” she whispered, turning her palm upward as Kronos pushed himself up, groaning and muttering. “I need you to trust me.”
Behind them, Bella muttered, “Oh, fuck.”
Sol reached for Sora, and she sent a wave of shadow at the gods, throwing them back as Kronos slowly lifted a hand to his forehead. His fingers were stained as he lowered them, coated in ichor the shade of darkest night.
Vane’s breath caught at the sight of the waning moon slicing directly in half by a curved Misean war sword. Not Nyx’s mark, but her’s.
“Together?” she said softly, touching his face with one hand and pulling a dagger from her belt with the other.
Kronos rose to his full height, blasting apart the shadow she tried to cage in him without a thought as he roared, “You are mine.”
Vane met her eyes as he grabbed the bloody dagger Kronos had shoved in his chest. “You are my beginning and my end, my love. You know I will follow you into whatever oblivion brings.”
Kronos lunged as she kissed him, whispering against his lips, “Oblivion can wait. I’ll find your soul when we wake again.”
Thessilnn. Heles. Kill him.
Vane’s eyes widened at the realization as the two largest Vemon dragons to ever exist crashed into the throne room.
Anabeth’s dagger, thrown from atop Thessa’s back, caught Kronos in the shoulder before he could reach Soren and Vane.
He staggered back, buying them just enough time to whisper goodbye.
“I love you,” she whispered, kissing Vane hard while thrusting her dagger into his hand.
He angled it at her chest, the cold tip pressing against her sternum. “Always. My heart is yours to take, as is my soul.”
Thessa reared back her head, flames gathering in her throat. We will wait.
We will hold on to your souls with honor, Heles agreed with a roar.
Soren took the dagger covered in Vane’s blood and pressed it to his chest. “I am not afraid.”
Their lips met at the moment each blade pierced skin and bone. She gasped but kept her eyes open wide, looking into Vane’s steady gaze as the dagger tore through her heart. As the light began to leave his eyes and Death’s arms welcomed her home once more, her mark appeared on Vane’s forehead.
“Sora,” he gasped one final time before his breath shuddered and held.
Death enveloped her as dragonfire surrounded them.
Kronos screamed as he died.
But Sora only smiled.