Chapter 28 Quentin #2
“There is one more memory that I wish to share,” Gray said, looking directly at Archer. “But I’m only willing to share it with you.”
Archer looked back at the congregation behind him. He’d led the minor Gods as an unelected figurehead for so long that even cuffed, he still spoke for them. There were a few nervous glances before heads began to nod.
“Okay,” Archer said, the word stilted and hesitant. The cockiness he wore had slowly faded away.
Gray stepped towards him and reached out his arms. Archer didn’t flinch as Gray’s fingers met his temples and they fell quiet.
“What is he doing?” I heard Aria mutter from her throne.
But I knew exactly what memory Gray was sharing with him.
It was the same memory he’d shown me. The moments before Elara’s death.
The conversation he’d had with her was meant to remain a secret, but the circumstances had forced his hand.
I held my breath, watching the pair. The entire chambers froze while they shared a private moment of honesty.
When Gray finally dropped his hands and took a step back, my heart broke. Archer had lost all his colour, and a tear rolled down his cheek, quickly followed by twin streams that carved down his face.
“Thank you,” Archer managed eventually, barely getting the words out, “on behalf of all of us for sharing those memories. I believe we need to discuss what we’ve seen before we make a decision.”
“How long will you need?” Gray asked.
“I’m sure we can deliver an answer promptly.”
Archer turned away and back to the minor Gods. They swelled towards him before he was obscured from view.
Gray made his way towards the dais and stood beside me. His confidence had not faded, but there was a sadness that plagued his features.
“How are you holding up?” he asked, leaning down for a kiss.
“I’m fine,” I replied as we broke apart. “I’m more concerned about all of you. Reliving all of this can’t be easy.”
“It had to be done.”
The more time I spent in Elysia, the more certain I was that diplomacy and politics were not meant for me. Give me the solace of a lab any day.
“At least the truth is finally out there,” Erik said from his throne beside me.
“It doesn’t bring back their loved ones, though,” Elva added with a sigh.
Gray shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. But it might help them understand it wasn’t a choice we willingly made. Hunter was behind us every step of the way, making sure his plans played out the way he wanted.”
“Grayson.” Archer’s voice called out clearly.
Gray straightened up and turned around. “You’ve decided?”
“We have.”
He stepped down from the dais and back to the centre of the room.
“The minor Gods can see now that the decisions you made were not your own,” Archer said to him. “Hunter heavily influenced you all. We will not seek any further justice for what happened.” His voice quivered on the last few words and he coughed. “It’s clear that we already have our justice.”
There was a sense of relief that washed through the room, and my muscles that had been tense finally relaxed.
“I appreciate your willingness to see reason,” Grayson told them all.
“However, with Hunter no longer here, that leaves the question of who will lead us.”
Gray straightened up, pulling himself to his full height. “Before we discuss that matter, we need to consider that Hunter has gone and the circumstances surrounding the fact that he no longer exists.”
The silence in the room thickened. My gaze darted to Larkin, only Hunter’s vacant throne between us, but if she sensed my stare, she ignored it. After a few moments, I forced my attention back to the centre of the room, fingers tight on the arms of Gray’s throne.
“Archer, you’ve been accused of treason,” Gray announced. “Of killing Hunter without reason. In order to determine if you should be punished for your crimes, we ask you to share your memories and anything else you feel would help your case.”
“No.”
I blinked at Archer’s blatant defiance. When he said he could keep a secret, I thought he would manipulate his memories. Show them from a different perspective that didn’t involve Larkin. I didn’t expect him to just bluntly refuse.
“No?” Gray echoed, sounding just as perplexed. “You’re refusing to show us your memories?”
“Correct.”
“Archer, if you’re refusing to display your memories of the event—”
“He committed treason, Grayson. We all know what the punishment is. He’s refusing to show us because he’s already condemned,” Aria called from her throne. “Why waste our time?”
“Because a lack of due diligence is what brought us to this point,” Gray snapped, not bothering to spare her a glance. “Archer.”
“I murdered Hunter. I have no remorse,” he replied flatly.
Whispers hissed in the chambers. My teeth ground together and I thought I might be sick. Archer wasn’t even going to try and defend himself.
“Archer,” Gray said, his voice losing some of the calm. “Do you understand the repercussions if you refuse to—”
“I understand.”
“Archer didn’t kill Hunter.” Larkin rose from her throne. “I did.”
“Larkin,” I said, and for the first time today, she looked at me.
“Trust me.”
The whispers had crescendoed to a din. Outrage and shock spilled through the chambers laced with pure vitriol.
My aura fluttered in front of Larkin, forming a shield. It wouldn’t stop her from hearing the terrible things the Gods were saying, but it would hopefully offer her some protection.
“Enough!” Grayson bellowed, turning back towards the dais. “Larkin?”
“I am willing to share my memories with Elysia,” she told the chambers. “Including those that led me to the decision.”
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. Larkin’s responsibility was strength, and she basked in it with her decision to tell the heavens her story.
The room was bathed in silver, cloaking us all before her memories filled the space.
My jaw was set tight as Larkin exposed Hunter for what he was.
The things he had put her through. The abuse of his powers and the abuse of hers.
Scenes tumbled and changed, bleeding into one another.
Their marriage dissolved and scenes of the last few days came into focus.
Larkin attacking Mabel and finding a vial of liquid.
The moment she was at the clifftop, looming over Hunter until she forced the vial into his mouth with all of her strength.
It shattered, cutting his lips, cheek, and tongue.
It spilled out of him as he choked on it, and Larkin just smiled, leaning in to whisper her parting words.
At the time, when Grayson laid dying in front of me, Larkin looked terrifying. Watching the scene unfold from her point of view, there wasn’t a single moment where she wasn’t in control. She knew what she was doing.
When the memories crumbled away and brought us back into the chambers, the silence was deafening.
Gods and Goddesses who were usually so brash and defiant, confident and well spoken, were now pale and at a loss for words.
If anyone had proof of the truly monstrous nature that Hunter hid from the heavens, it was Larkin.
And she had unapologetically stripped the blindfold away from the rest of them.
“So, if you are looking for justice, then it starts and ends with me,” Larkin said, staring down at Gray.
“Don’t listen to her,” Archer hissed from behind him.
Gray approached the dais again, making a line towards Larkin. His jaw was set and his posture no longer radiated the cool calmness that he had handled everything with so far. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. “Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you tell us?”
“What would you have done?”
“Murdered him myself.”
There was a beat before Larkin sniffed, and said, “I didn’t need your help. I did it myself.”
“Larkin—”
“Well, I can’t take full credit. Quentin was very helpful through the divorce and other matters.”
Gray looked at me, and this time, I didn’t look away.
“She wasn’t on her own,” I told him. “Not once I knew.”
“Do whatever you need to do, Grayson. I won’t apologise for it and I won’t show remorse. I’m glad he’s gone. I’ve waited a long time for that moment, and it brought me nothing but joy.”
Grayson tipped his head back, staring up at the ceiling of the chambers. When he dropped his head and looked at Larkin again, his eyes were wet with tears. “I’ll never be able to apologise enough for what Hunter did to you.”
“I’m not asking you for an apology. You are not your brother.”
Gray nodded, but it was a stilted move. Turning back towards the crowd of minor Gods, he cleared his throat. “Given the circumstances of what we’ve just witnessed, I believe that seeking justice would not be the most appropriate course of action.”
Erik walked past me, making his way over to Larkin, looking like a broken man. He had never approved of their marriage, had probably sensed the way the love between them had vanished, but he’d never understood the horrors that unfolded behind closed doors.
“If there are any objections, I suggest you air them now,” Gray finished.
The room remained silent to the point that it stilled. Not a breath could be heard in the cavernous chambers.
“That’s decided. I think it would be pertinent for us to take a break before we continue with the last item on the agenda for today.” He looked over his shoulder at Ignacio. “Release Archer from the cuffs.”
It was as if he had breathed life back into the room. Voices began to clammer over each other and bodies moved.
I prepared to step towards Larkin, but Gray’s voice made me freeze.
“You,” he said, coming towards me with a face like thunder. “We need to talk.”