Chapter 27 Daesra
DAESRA
WE’RE GOING home, back where we all belong.
Rather, the mortal realm is home for everyone except half of the huge chimera who trails us, once Sadaré and I regain our clothing and find him and Melé in the meadow.
My mother gives us a smile as soon as she sees our entwined hands, and then asks us if we had a nice stroll.
I pointedly ignore her, which only makes her smile grow as we walk.
I trust Sadaré to lead us to wherever this golden gate must be, so I eventually drop back behind her and Melé to approach the dark shadow still lurking behind us.
He’s forbidding enough to keep the shades of the Blessed Isles from venturing closer, which I don’t mind.
But there’s no need for him to hold himself apart from us.
When he sees me coming, he freezes on huge paws, but I don’t let that stop me. I walk right up to him and place my hand deep in the fur of his broad chest, feeling his breath rumble and his heart pound like a slow drum beneath my palm.
“I know how you feel,” I tell him in a low voice.
“You’re not yourself. You might not even know yourself, other than feeling part monster.
But I know what that’s like. I’ve been through several such metamorphoses on my end.
” I sigh. “I’m here for you. I’m patient.
And there’s no one better to show you the way than me, if you’ll trust me. ”
For a moment, the creature doesn’t move. And then he ducks his huge head down to rest gently atop mine.
We stay that way for a long moment, mostly until I’m sure my tears are gone.
I have to grieve, even though I know he wouldn’t want to see it.
Because he’s neither Pogli—my surprisingly ugly and yet adorable moral compass split off from me—nor Bereus, the ferocious beast bound by duty to the underworld’s master.
He’s unique. He’s his own self now. He only has to discover who that is.
I’m happy to wait with him.
“Would a new name make you feel better?” I ask to break the silence.
Those deep amber eyes flash open above me as if suddenly wary, but I keep talking, quiet and steady.
“We all need names that fit us. I gave you an awkward chimera of a name that suited one of your previous selves. I can do the same with less awkwardness, perhaps—piece two halves together to make a whole?” Horizon set the precedent, after all, so I can’t go too far astray.
I step back, holding out my arms so he can see.
“Pogli.” I lift one hand. “Bereus.” I lift the other, and then press my palms together. “Leus?”
The chimera stares for several beats of my heart, abruptly huffs, blowing my hair around my face—and then he licks me, leaving me with an absolutely revolting coating of saliva drenching my arms and face. I manage not to grimace as I swipe a handful of the viscous slime off my cheek.
“Leus it is, then,” I say, and I gesture the way forward. “Come on, friend. Let’s go.”
He walks alongside me after that—all the way up to the golden gate that appears at the end of a narrow trail through the gilded woodland.
The frame is composed of braided laurel leaves that overlap at the apex, and only the slight shimmering film in between the branches makes it appear any different from an ornate archway.
The look of sheer triumph on Sadaré’s face as she spins around in front of it makes me laugh aloud.
But everyone grows still as the surface of it ripples, and then we can all see Horizon standing on the other side.
They’re not in mortal form, other than a vague human shape, burning with twisting blue and gray light like fire.
They’re so bright I can’t make out what else lies beyond, though I assume it’s the mortal realm.
I catch my mother’s arm as her legs tremble beneath her.
Gods other than me, Sadaré, and Isha are terrifying and even deadly to look upon, though most would still probably find Isha terrifying enough.
Even though this veil between worlds protects Melé, I imagine she either wants to crumple to the ground or bow at the sight of Horizon… but she should do neither.
And she doesn’t. She takes a steadying breath and squares her shoulders, meeting the god’s unearthly gaze straight on.
I realize right when she must: Horizon can’t cross over, not without destroying the underworld or breaking some other divine rule. Only Sadaré and I—and obviously Isha—have the unique makeup as gods to enter this place. That’s why Horizon sent me to retrieve Melé in their stead, after all.
Which means Melé could remain in the Blessed Isles if she wanted to. Or she could take the exit I’ve offered all the other shades and return to the source, though of course I don’t want her to do that. But she has a choice. Either way, she doesn’t have to go with Horizon.
Everything that Sea did after she met this mortal woman has led to this point, including becoming Horizon, the most powerful god there is. Including creating me, twice over. But now the mortal has the power. The decision rests only with Melé.
For once, a god has to ask.
Horizon’s voice resonates from the other side of the shimmering veil. “I am the god who destroyed your mortal husband and became the sole focus of your devoted worship. I am also the god who killed you. Will you have me?”
“The gods are cruel,” Melé murmurs. “The gods are good. What am I to you?”
“My greatest love,” Horizon says simply.
My mother smiles tremulously, and she’s never looked so lovely. “Then I will have you.”
Sadaré and I both glance at each other in surprise.
I don’t know what I expected—for Melé to make Horizon wait a bit longer?
Suffer uncertainty for a few more moments?
That’s something we would have done to each other, to be sure.
I can see my thoughts reflected in Sadaré’s too-brilliant green eyes, the both of us amazed that Melé could so easily forgive the one who wronged her—the one who incinerated her.
Even for the sake of love, that’s a lot to move beyond.
But I’ve forgiven Sadaré for nearly that much. It makes me wonder: If one is open to it, can love burn away absolutely any obstacle in its path, however large?
Isha flashes through my mind before I violently cast him out.
Not yet, I think. Maybe not ever.
And I can tell Sadaré is thinking the exact same thing, my mirror once more, her eyes haunted, but also considering at the same time.
We both break our stare of understanding when Melé shifts forward.
“Wait,” I say. “Let’s make sure you cross without anything… happening.”
Sadaré nods along with me, and together, at my lead, we both sidle partway through the frame on opposite sides of each other, leaving a sort of aisle between us.
Coolness washes over me where I cross the barrier, almost like the mirrors in the maze, and yet I feel a warm breeze on the other side—somehow so different from the air here and so familiar.
It feels alive. It feels like home. I can’t wait to duck through, but I need to make sure that the other three make it first.
Melé steps up to us, giving us both tender looks filled with gratitude, but I only toss my head toward the gateway.
“Don’t do that,” I say. “No farewells. And definitely no thanks. This is the very least I could do for my mother.” My voice hitches as she blinks away her own tears. “I’ll find you on the other side—as soon as you want me to.”
“Always,” she murmurs, and then she lifts her hand to meet Horizon’s on the other side. As she reaches through to touch the god, every part of her turns to blazing light… and then they’re both gone.
Both my parents, now divine.
All I want to do is seize Sadaré and follow after her, but I have to do one last thing.
I step out of the gateway to face Leus, who’s sitting some ways away, much too large to fit through the laurel frame. His huge shoulders are hunched, like he knows what’s coming.
Or like he doesn’t want to come. But I won’t accept that.
“Leus,” I say gently. “Friend. I know you have this in you. You have to become smaller, so you can leave with us.”
A whine escapes through his huge teeth, and he begins to pant.
“Come on,” I coax, and walk up to him, taking his massive jaws between my hands and giving them a scratch, heedless of the saliva. “You can do this.”
“Come with us, Leus,” Sadaré coos softly. “We can be yours, if you’ll be ours.”
Leus whines again. And then vanishes from under my fingers—except he’s not gone.
He’s still here, merely standing below me, the size of a normal dog.
He still has sharp horns, long feathered wings, and a spiked tail that could gravely injure one’s shins, but those are all manageable obstacles for me.
I grin at him and bend over to ruffle the fur between his horns. He growls at me, but it’s playful. His tail lashes, forcing me to dance back, and he follows me with a leap and a bark. As I turn toward the gateway, he dashes ahead of me and dives right through it.
Sadaré sniffles and wipes her eyes. I put my arm around her and pull her tight against me. “He’s going to be fine.”
“I know,” she says. “It’s just…”
“I know.” I kiss the top of her head.
She blows out a breath. “Now, shall we get the fuck out of this godsforsaken place?”
I grin down at her. “I’m so glad you still have that beautifully filthy mouth.”
“I’m still me.” She purses her lips. “I think.”
“You are. You’re more yourself than ever.” So am I. It only took me a while to realize that, while I was looking for her.
Instead, I found myself, and she found herself. Only then could we find each other.
Hand in hand, we walk through the gateway together.