Chapter 21
Silence.
The buzzing is gone. In its place, I hear the satisfying lap of water. A light breeze rustling cypress tree branches.
I’m bent over, hands on my knees. At some point, I lost Cary’s grip. I don’t know where. A knifing pain stabs my side. But I can’t take my stare away from the labyrinth.
Nothing else emerges after us. Slowly, the vines stretch and twine. They form a gate that seals the maze.
We’re safe.
As my breaths start to calm, I hear a slow clap from behind me.
My spine goes rigid. Sand kicks up as I hastily turn, panic cold in my belly.
Milos stands on Lethe’s shore. His smirk taunts me. Cary kneels at his side, face crumpled in agony. Milos’s fingers dig carelessly into his shoulder. The hiss he lets out vibrates through my body.
“Impressive,” Milos says. “No one has ever found their way out of my labyrinth. Though I had hoped you would.” Amusement glints in his eyes. “You truly are special, beautiful August.”
I ignore his sneer. Concentrate on Cary. His half-bowed head. The way he struggles against Milos’s grip, unable to shake him. He looks helpless.
No…powerless.
“The bargain,” I say roughly.
Milos’s mouth curves, sharp as a scythe. “My brother and his wants,” he tuts.
He watches me. Waits for every little dot to connect. It doesn’t take me long.
Of course Cary wouldn’t tell me what he gave up. What he offered Milos to get inside the labyrinth. It was too big. He didn’t want to put any more pressure on me to solve the maze.
He didn’t want to burden me.
“His power,” I say.
The light around Milos’s irises is the purest gold. “Only temporarily.”
He says it like it’s a consolation. A prize for surviving his game. His fingers push deeper into the space between Cary’s neck and shoulder. The skin purples in a way I’ve seen before. On a human.
“He was so worried about you,” Milos huffs. “I do not know why. Clearly you are more than capable.”
A low groan breaks past Cary’s clenched teeth.
“Why his power?” I seethe.
“To make sure the challenge was still fair,” Milos tells me, his lips pursed innocently.
I start toward him.
“Ah-ah.” Milos shakes a finger while gripping Cary’s tendons harder. His knees sink deeper into the sand.
“Let him go!”
Milos grins, teeth bared. “Soon. But first tell me—how did you two escape?”
My brows furrow. Irritation cuts across his features. My eyes fall to Cary. Through his strained expression, I see a warning in his gaze.
Do not tell him.
“The music,” I reply.
Milos balks. “What music?”
“I heard a melody,” I say, then smile. “And I wrote a song to it.”
It’s not a lie. Lethe gave me the notes. I simply composed my own lyrics over them: right, left, right again, three lefts, two rights. Not my best work. But it’s finished, something I haven’t done since London’s death.
“Liar,” Milos snarls. “You could not have solved my labyrinth with…music.”
“I did,” I say. “I beat your little maze. And now I can leave.”
“It is true, brother,” Cary adds, ragged breaths between his words. “You made a bargain. Now honor it.”
Snidely, Milos says, “Always the rule follower. Mother’s favorite. Her good, disciplined, obedient lapdog.” He snatches his hand away from Cary. Nudges him into the sand with his foot.
Cary catches himself, but only just. His muscles quiver. My pulse beats thickly against my throat.
“Are you sure you want to leave, August?” My name is a dissonant note on Milos’s tongue. So different from the way Cary says it. He grins kindly. “What about London?”
I flinch, eyes wide.
I hate that Milos knows who London is now. But I keep the fact that I saw London from him. That he’s no longer the reason I’m still here in Aides, rooted to this place.
When Milos realizes his words have no effect on me, his tone changes. “Think of what you could have here. Never having to say goodbye to those you love ever again.”
A cold sweat breaks out along my hairline.
I can’t control Death. I can’t stop who she comes for. When she comes. But if I accept Milos’s deal—a life in Aides for him to have access to whatever power he believes I have—then I could at least still see the people Death takes.
I’d never feel the waves of grief. Drown in my heartache.
Cary’s voice drifts through my head like the softest ballad.
Grief needs to be felt. It is not a burden. It is a reminder. You were given the choice to love. To be loved. And you took it.
I’m tired of fearing grief. Of thinking it’ll destroy me instead of remembering what it gave to me in the first place.
I raise my chin. “No.”
A deep shadow folds around Milos’s face. “No?”
“No,” I repeat, unflinching. Bold.
He throws his arms wide. “You would give all this up? If you leave, you cannot return.”
The reminder strikes like lightning:
A mortal can only cross over five times. After that, they are forced to make a choice.
“Remain here, for eternity,” I recite to myself. “Or never return. Not until death.”
“Look around, August,” Milos says in a syrupy tone. “This can be your kingdom. Your home.”
For a moment, my eyes scan around. Aides is beautiful. Alluring, unpredictable. Veiled in a power that still leaves me breathless. There’s a whisper-quiet part of me that feels a belonging.
I’m welcome here.
Santa Barbara is haunted by ghosts. By incomplete dreams of the August I was. Reminders of the August I never became. I wanted so badly to run from it. To escape.
But my parents are there. Max is too.
Santa Barbara is where I fell in love for the first time.
And, unknowingly, it’s where I fell in love for a second time. In a pizzeria. On the steep wooden steps above a beach. In a clock tower high above the city. Between red larkspurs and fiery poppies in my mom’s greenhouse.
Santa Barbara is where the first part of my story was written.
And it’s where I’m deciding to write the next chapter.
I stand as tall as Milos. On equal ground. I may not know how to call forth my power. How I made flowers bloom or vines move. But I won’t let Milos feel more powerful than me.
With finality, I say, “No. I’m leaving.”
From his spot in the sand, Cary smiles weakly.
Fire burns in Milos’s scowl. “You think it that simple?” He raises a hand. Wisps of black snake between his long fingers.
I take a step back.
“I am the prince of Aides,” he half growls. “I have a role. The one my brother gave me.”
His hand touches the back of Cary’s neck.
Cary stiffens, grimacing. He pulls sand between his fingers. His body trembles.
I lurch forward. “No! Stop!”
A cruel glimmer lights Milos’s eyes.
I don’t have time to react. Cary lets out a long, hoarse cry before Milos releases him. He pants, chest heaving. But when his head lifts, I see his eyes. Gold poured around obsidian irises.
His power is back.
“He is the ferrier of souls.” Milos holds my gaze. “And you will never have him.”
The harsh truth nearly knocks my legs from under me. No matter who I am, what power I do or don’t have…I can’t change the rules of Aides.
“When you step into the waters”—there’s an unnerving calmness to Milos’s voice—“you will forget this place. Forget us. Forget him.”
I watch Cary’s face pale.
Milos approaches me. “Are you sure you want that?”
No, I want to scream, instinctively.
I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want to forget him.
I look at Cary. Every hard, delicate line in his face softens. I used to believe he was unreadable. Unknowable. But that’s so far from reality.
He’s a nerd about reading. He loves animals. Loves sweets, music. He’s careful and protective and warm once you give him a chance to talk. He loves to tease and laugh. He’s made mistakes, felt guilt over them. But he survived.
Just like me.
In his expression, I see what he wants to say:
It is okay, Auggie. You will be fine. You are more than what you give yourself credit for.
“August?” Milos prompts.
I can’t tear my eyes from Cary. Shuddering, I whisper, “Yes.”
Waving his hand dismissively, Milos snaps, “Then leave us. The same way your pathetic ancestor did.”
He slips past me, disappearing.
I stumble forward. My knees hit soft sand as I kneel in front of Cary. His face tips up, sweat slick against his brow. That single curl rests on his forehead. When I reach to brush grains of sand from his shoulder, he catches my hand.
I’m scared to look at him, fully. I know the next part. Just like in the hospital two years ago, the moment I touched London’s cold skin.
Cary squeezes my hand. And this is the worst part. Saying goodbye to someone who’s still here.
My throat tightens. “Is it true? Will I forget you?”
The gold fades from his gaze. I stare into ocean-deep black as he nods once.
“There has to be a way to keep my memories. I’m Cora’s descendant, damn it,” I argue, feebly.
His lips dip the tiniest amount. “There are things in Aides I cannot explain.”
Tears well in my eyes. I snort despite them. “Seems like everything here is unexplainable.”
“Maybe to a mortal like you.”
His playful smirk keeps me from breaking down. His thumb traces my palm, then my wrist. It’s as if he’s trying to memorize me.
As if, after I’m gone, he’ll forget too.
“You gave up your power for me.”
Cary shakes his head at the shock in my voice. “It is the least I would give up for you.”
My eyes flit to Lethe. “Will you take me back?”
He says the one thing I wish he wouldn’t: “I cannot.”
“Then how? I can’t do it without you.”
His fingers skim along my forearm. “You are August Clarke.” His lips lift higher. “Kind, thoughtful, strong. A pain in my ass.”
I let out an indignant noise. His smile goes tender.
“And you make me want things I could never have.”
“Hmm. I sound like a keeper.”
Cary rests his forehead against mine. “If only I could.”
For a beat, we stay like that. Our eyes locked. Breaths synchronized. My hands gripping his biceps. His hand tracing the lines of my tattoo.
“I want to be yours,” I tell him.
“I am the ferrier,” he says, voice cracking. “I only have moments.”
“Then give me those,” I half growl, half sob.
“Is that enough?”
“It is for me.” A tear slips over my grin. “One page at a time. Remember?”