Chapter 68
Sixty-eight
Zellie
The impact of the arrow shredding layers of skin and muscle rattled my eyes in their sockets.
The pain is immense, and my hands shake as I try to reach for the piece of the bridge that is sticking out of me.
I shouldn’t have sent Orion away. But the residential area was under attack, and innocent lives were at stake.
Seb needed help—all of those people needed help.
I think the only reason he agreed to leave me was that he knew Pluto was mine to take down.
He had faith in me. It’s really my fault for not anticipating how fucking resistant Pluto is to going down. Orion will kill me if I die.
I safely tuck my dagger back into my pocket before gripping the makeshift arrow, my entire arm shaking from the pain. I can’t heal the wound with this in, so it has to go. Gritting my teeth, I slowly pull it out, whimpering with each effort. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this fucking hurts.
Pluto hasn’t advanced on me. Why hasn’t he taken advantage of this opportunity? Not that I’m complaining. That’s when I notice it—the eerie silence that travels on the wind. A whisper—no, a word, quietly carrying across the vast space, slicing through the violence.
Enough. Enough. Enough.
The stones beneath my feet vibrate, the crystalline holding the bridge up shaking and tinkling with a growing heavy rumble. The piece of crystal clatters to the ground as I look up to see Pluto not focused on me, but on something further down the bridge.
Shield to shield, humans formed a line. I could feel the lack of power from them, just as I could feel the cosmic power radiating from the person the line stood firmly behind, pink waves flowing at the charge.
“Enough,” Jada said, her voice filled with assurance.
My heart stuttered at the being before me. She was radiant, inside and out. And she was here.
A butterfly dances by her face, and she gently lays her palm out for the creature to land on. It must be a hybrid between a flarelet and a nymphalid, its wings aglow with luminous detail. The symbolism is not lost on me—a sign of transformation, of rebirth. It’s fitting, really.
Pluto scowls in her direction. “I knew. I knew when that bitch of a woman was bred.
She slipped past my guard somehow—posed as a human.
But she wasn't. Determined to plant such hope,” he spits out.
“ When you were born, the stars shook, and I knew the one spoken of in the prophecy was born. But you were utterly human. How was I to know? You were impossible to find. Underneath my nose this entire time.” Pluto chuckles darkly as Jada beholds him.
“But I knew what she was then, when the worlds trembled beneath my feet. I eliminated the line once, and I will do it again.”
“No, you won’t,” Jada replies, confidence glowing off of her. Not confidence—power.
Jada’s arms extend as a swirl of pink flames encircles her wrists, then her arms; the magic whirling in shades of pink and blue. Her eyes flicker to mine, asking an unspoken question.
And in this moment, the worlds shift, allowing for a moment of clarity.
This is what it feels like, to let go. This is acceptance.
I don’t need to be the one to bring Pluto down in order to move on with my life.
Through friendship, through sisterhood, through love—I can count on those in my life to help me shoulder the weight.
My chin dips in a nod, and so quickly, before Pluto even has a chance to react, Jada flicks her wrists and the flames spring from her arms, shooting out to cover the bridge. Pink twists lick up the crystals, holding the structure together before enclosing the bridge in bright flame.
I stumble as I attempt to stay on my feet; the bridge shakes as a heavy crack echoes through the night. I feel it before I see it—the ground splintering like a spiderweb. It burrows, barrelling towards where we stand at lightning speed.
Then the floor shatters.
In a free fall surrounded by stone and crystal and dust, I can’t help but look up to the orbit beyond. Only for a moment—that’s all I can allow myself—I search the stars until I find the brightest. I miss you, Lenny, but I can’t join you today. It’s not my time.
Snapping out of my daze, I locate my targets.
Jada’s unconscious, limply descending with her eyes resting shut, the wind whipping her hair in every which direction.
She must have expended all of her power, using every drop of her energy.
Pluto also falls, using his power to clear his path.
He looks as dazed as I feel—the overextension of our energy combined with our injuries has worn us down.
I don’t have much time—if any, at that. Needing to make a move, I take a deep breath, planning as I go. I hold the power of life and death in my hands.
It’s time to make it count.
I will make it all count.