Chapter Thirty-One
No more pain. No more Theron—Calroy.
Just the bone-white trees and the fog beneath my feet.
I stood in the land of the dead, chest heaving, tears still wet on my face, the dagger by my waist, the stone in my pocket. The keeper hovered where it had always been, watching.
I was Star. But I had just watched myself die as Yeri.
The name settled into me differently now, not like a stranger’s but mine. My hand pressed flat against my chest, half expecting to feel a wound that wasn’t there. Something clicked into place, and I saw myself in a new light.
And Calroy… I looked down at my hand, the one that had reached for his and never made contact.
I will find you. Not even our end can keep me away from you.
He already had found me.
On an auction block, of all places, standing in chains while men decided my worth in coin. He’d been there. He’d seen me. And whatever part of him still carried Calroy’s memory had recognized something I hadn’t yet understood about myself.
He’d covered for me when I killed Russo, stepped between me and consequence without asking for anything in return.
He’d pulled me onto his horse and carried me through a field of impossible grass, his arm around my waist, his breath warm against my shoulder.
He’d held my hand in the dark as the shadowroot pulled us under, his grip loosening last, like even unconscious some part of him refused to let go first.
He’d even kissed me like he’d been waiting lifetimes to do it.
Because he had.
I found you. He’d said it twice. Once on the ship, standing over me in the dark—I found you, that’s all that should matter tonight. And again in the woods, catching me watching the winged figures in the trees—I found you.
I’d thought he meant it literally both times. That he’d simply come across me. But he’d meant it the way Calroy had meant it with his last breath.
Across death. Across lifetimes. I will find you.
I’d thought Theron was a ruthless pirate with no loyalty but to himself. But he’d been looking for me through every kingdom and every sea. Not knowing my face, not knowing my name, just carrying something in his chest that wouldn’t let him stop.
He knew I was Yeri.
He’d always known.
And I—I pressed my fist to my chest, breathing hard, chest tightening at what we had been through.
Theron… my Calroy. I remember you. I remember me. That one memory was enough for now, until I fully understood the god power within me.
“You choose wisely,” the keeper said.
I met his empty space where his face should be and with a newfound confidence I demanded, “Take me to my friends, now.”
Energy shifted in the air, charging and humming, like a plucked string held too long.
“Yes.” The voice dropped to almost reverent. “My Lady.” It bowed. “The goddess Yeri has finally returned.”
“You knew,” I said. “This entire time you knew who I was.”
“I have always known.” It straightened. “The god of the afterlife paid me with gemstones to guide you to one wish in this realm, to ensure you would recall who you are.” He opened his cloak apart. “Aren’t they beautiful?”
“No. Oh, gods, no.” I covered my eyes. “For the love of gods, don’t show me—”
This pervert was going to flash me. Show me his… show me what? If he didn’t have a face, did he still have a body? I lowered my hands, laughing to myself. He didn’t want to show me his man or ghost hood, he carried gemstones.
Emeralds, sapphires, and rubies were hovering all over the dark hollowness of his chest.
“I was waiting for you, My Lady. Took you long enough.” The keeper was oblivious of my thoughts and actions.
My laughter faded as fast as it came. Because underneath the absurdity of gemstone-clad spirits and pervy jokes, something heavier took root.
I didn’t know what to say. This revelation, of me being Yeri, released something heavy I hadn’t known I was carrying. Somewhere between the absurdity and the weight of it all, a full belly laugh broke loose anyway, half joy, half disbelief.
If my memory served me right, Nam knew who I was. Nam, who had taught us the names of animals from drawings in the dirt, who had shown us how to endure. Who had told us stories of the gods by firelight in the cavern.
And The Priestess, who had looked at me the moment I walked through that grass like she’d been expecting me. Not the group. Not the stones. But me.
And Sable, the one the king had called a witch, hiding somewhere in a forest, had known too. Nam and her sister protected me all those years. They knew I would be reborn.
I pressed a hand to my own chest, half expecting to feel something different underneath—a second heartbeat, maybe, or the absence of the one I’d always known.
But it was just me. Star, who had cracked oysters until her fingers bled.
Star, who had buried a dagger in a man’s throat and cried after.
Star, who didn’t know how to be anyone’s goddess, only how to survive as herself.
Yeri was supposed to be ancient. Powerful. Worth an entire war. But when I searched myself for her, I only found the girl I had always been—just with a much longer memory I hadn’t earned yet, and a name I hadn’t chosen.
Maybe that was the answer. Maybe I didn’t have to become someone else to be her. Maybe Yeri had always just been Star, waiting to get her memory back, waiting to believe in herself.
“My Lady, we’re here,” the keeper said.
Too caught up in my thoughts, I hadn’t realized I was moving.
The fog and the bone-white trees dissolved around us, replaced by a gentle waterfall catching what little light existed in this place, a garden spreading out beneath it, flowers in every color of gemstone.
Theron, Minha, and Ranis stood at the water’s edge, staring at me like I was the one who’d come back from the dead. Their expressions were different. Not the hollow look of people who’d been through hell, but more like a door had opened somewhere inside each of them.
Theron said nothing. Just watched me with those beautiful knowing blue eyes.
Ranis’s grin broke. “My Lady.” He dipped his head. “We know.”
“Just to be clear,” Minha added. “We know what you know.”
Then they dropped to one knee, heads bowed low. The gesture so unexpected it knocked the breath from me.
And Theron, tears cut silent tracks down his face. My mate. My love. How he had suffered, searching the seven kingdoms and seven seas, never given a date, never given a name, never given anything but a promise made by Palto, who had condemned us.
I couldn’t stop my own tears at the sight of him, at the memory of our final moments, experienced as if it had just happened. I ran and jumped into his arms.
The moment we collided, an invisible force wrapped around us both, warm and electric, threading through my body like gentle lightning finding its path.
I felt it move from my fingertips to my chest, settling somewhere deep.
From the way Theron went still, the sharp intake of breath, the tightening of his arms, he felt it too.
Powers coming back. Finding their way home.
“I found you.” His voice was rough against my hair. Then he pulled back just enough to look at my face, the way he had on the ship that first night, like he was memorizing every detail of me, and kissed me, like a promise kept across years.
He spun me once, my feet leaving the ground, and I laughed… laughed in the land of the dead despite myself.
Calroy put me down, raking his fingers through my hair, his eyes finding mine with a softness that melted my heart.
“I’m sorry you had to endure Russo.” His thumb brushed my cheek. “But I had to save Minha from Zenito, the pirate who took her. She could handle herself, but not a boat full of men. They would have tied her down and each man would have taken her.”
“No.” I placed my hand on his chest. “You did right by her.” I smiled, my heart so full it ached. “Thank you for never giving up on us. I never doubted you, Calroy.”
The name felt strange on my lips. Foreign and familiar at once. Not Theron the pirate. Calroy, god of the sky.
He smiled, nothing like the smirk I’d grown used to.
Ranis and Minha turned and kept their bowed position, one knee to the ground, heads low. And beside them, the keeper descended, hovering lower than it had before, its faceless head dipping in the same reverent motion.
Calroy and I turned to our friends.
I was Yeri, goddess of the sea. But I was also Star, the girl who had grown up in a cavern, who had learned the names of animals from drawings in the dirt, who had never seen a pig or a cow or a canteen until days ago. That was all I’d known for twenty-five years of my life.
Yeri felt like a dress that belonged to someone else, but not anymore.
“You can all get up,” Calroy said. “Please.”
When they rose, I stepped forward and pulled Minha and Ranis into an embrace, one arm around each of them. Then I gave the keeper a curt nod.
“How did you know I was Yeri?” I looked between them.
“He told us.” Minha pointed at the keeper. “We believed him because Theron… I mean… Calroy confirmed his statement.”
“But he was with me the whole time.” I narrowed my eyes at the faceless figure.
“This is the land of the dead, Yeri. My name is Oscan. I am its keeper. I can be everywhere and anywhere at once.”
“Fair enough. And I suppose you also said those things to upset me. Is it true you do the Seelie queen’s bidding? Does she know I’m here?”
“No.” The keeper’s voice carried something that might have been regret. “I apologize for my rudeness. I had to light a fire under you.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. I had questions. Many of them. But they dissolved when a spirit-like form rose from where the waterfall pooled, the water parting around it.
I recognized him. The god of the afterlife. Tall and thin, pale skin, dark hair pulled into a top knot, the golden threads of his tunic catching the dim light. The same face from my memory.
Minha gasped, her dagger out before the sound left her throat. Ranis pivoted beside her.
But Theron was already moving. One moment he stood beside me, the next he crossed the distance in a burst of speed that didn’t belong to any mortal man, stopping inches from where the spirit hovered above the pooling water.
He couldn’t grab the deity. The god of the afterlife was mist and water, but the power rolling off Calroy was enough to churn the waterfall behind the spirit, the air crackling and charging.
I’d never seen the look of rage on Theron’s face before. This wasn’t the pirate captain. This wasn’t the man with the smirk and the carefully measured words. This was something older and far more dangerous—jaw tight, eyes dark, every muscle coiled, the air around him electric and alive.
The god of the sky with his power back.
“Calroy.” My voice came out stern. “Wait.”
He turned to look at me. The power still crackling in his eyes. Beautiful and yet so deadly.
“I see you’re still as dramatic as ever, sky god.” The spirit hovered, unbothered by the crackling power. “Stand down. You can’t harm me in this condition.”
The power in Theron’s eyes didn’t dim, but he didn’t move forward either.
“It’s about time you found her.” The spirit looked between us both, heavy in its expression. “I wasn’t sure you would. I hoped. But hope is a fragile thing, even for gods.”
The waterfall churned softly behind him.
“Once the Seelie queen learns that Yeri’s memory has returned,” the spirit’s voice rippled across the surface of the pool, “everything changes. What is coming will require all of us working together. And time is running out.”