Chapter 35 Seth
Seth
Ididn’t know why I started walking, or where I was headed. Shadows moved in the distance—monsters lurking near the edges of the Empty.
Maybe I’d be lucky, and one would descend upon me to silence the searing pain in my heart.
My anger toward Aethra had faded the moment I’d departed the city. She was right—I would have stopped her. El would have stopped her. Even Seraphim would have made her hold back.
Only Percy understood what she wanted . . . because he was every bit as stubborn as she was.
Ma’at city was far behind me, and only darkness loomed ahead. I raised my head from the sand beneath my feet, noticing something white that pierced the shadows. A woman in a white gown, standing atop a nearby hill.
Mother.
I rubbed my eyes, trying to dispel the hallucination, telling myself it was just sleep deprivation and stress. Gods knew I was suffering from both.
When I blinked my eyes back open, Mother was still standing there.
Her black hair shimmered beneath the faint moonlight, straight and neat. The same circlet I wore rested on her brow, golden like her eyes. Wings fell from her shoulders and spread across her back—the cape she always wore that made her seem so much larger than life.
Aethra had mentioned seeing Ainwir, trying to follow his shadow, but failing. Was I seeing ghosts, too?
“Mother?” I called.
Ma’at turned and walked away, descending into the shadows behind the hill.
I stood there in disbelief, trying to convince myself she wasn’t real. The other half of my heart raged, straining to hope.
Gods, I wanted to see her, to speak with her.
I’d give anything just to hear her voice again.
Breaking from my frozen stance, I chased after my mother. Her ethereal form remained ever out of reach, a faint glow against the infinite darkness swallowing the world. My heart thrummed painfully, and a sense of dread washed over me, turning my bones to lead.
Mother merged with the shadows—but she had not vanished into the night.
She’d stepped into the Empty. The void rose before me like a great black wall. Two paces from my boots, a sheer cliff tumbled into a perfectly still sea. Colorless. Dead.
Swallowing, I stepped back.
Even my mother’s ghost was lost to the Empty. Everything I loved had been taken by its cold embrace.
Hearing someone approach, I grabbed my dagger hilt and whirled around. Whisper bounded over the dunes, head lowered in concern. He cautiously approached me, sniffing vigorously as if to ensure I was still alive.
Kneeling, I held out a hand. “I didn’t realize you’d followed me.”
“He didn’t.” Seraphim’s voice rang through the night. “He followed me.”
The red-haired woman marched toward me, holding a flaming ball of blood aloft. Fire danced across her face, painting scowling shadows on her severe mien.
Lowering my head, I turned back to the Empty. “I can’t do this, Seraphim.” My voice emerged as a horse whisper. “Not again.”
Seraphim joined me by the Empty’s border. “Were you following someone, just now?”
“Yes,” I sighed. “I thought I saw Ma’at.”
She nodded gravely. “I keep seeing Rhea.”
I turned to her, surprised. “Your wife? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I know she’s not real.” Seraphim stared wistfully into the void. “Even if part of me hopes she is.”
“She might be. You said the two of you were sent to a labor camp.”
“Yes.” Seraphim’s pale blue eyes flicked to me. “Lord Aristaeus owns most of the farmlands near Hades. There were a great many of us there.”
“Lords normally don’t kill their slaves,” I said. “Are you sure she’s dead?”
“I am.” Seraphim closed her eyes. “Rhea passed in childbirth.”
I stepped back. Childbirth? Oh, gods. The father must have been the lord who owned them.
Nobody wanted to hear, ‘I’m sorry.’ They were empty words.
I asked a question, instead. “What happened to the child?”
“She lived, for a little bit.” Seraphim met my eye. “The good lord, in his benevolence, allowed me to hold her. Just once.”
“You thought of her as yours.”
“How could I not? Aristaeus had his fun with Rhea and tossed her away. I was the one who held her, each night.”
Nothing, I looked down. “What was her name?”
“Ilena. Our little light in the dark.” Seraphim grabbed her wrist and watched the stars. “My deepest regret in this life is that I didn’t get to bury them.”
“Neither did I,” I said softly. Whisper jumped up on me, and I smoothed out his ears. “You wanted to travel through the cities because you hoped to continue what she started. Didn’t you?”
A smile crept across Seraphim’s face. “Cerys and I discussed as much when we spoke privately at the Duat. I hoped to spark a new uprising, and she hoped you’d lead it.”
“I should’ve known,” I sighed. “Part of me thinks you joined the insurgency for fun.”
“I can’t deny that.” She smiled. “Fighting impossible battles is my life’s calling. But Phaedrus is to blame, as well. His passion was infectious. So, I thought, while he’s fixing our world, I can fix this one.”
Neither succeeded in the end. The brief levity between us evaporated. “Even if we win, it won’t bring her back.”
“No,” Seraphim agreed, eyes flicking across the void.
Setting Whisper down, I turned to face her. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“You told Aethra you don’t believe in the gods. That you think we live in a cold, meaningless world. How do you deal with your grief if you think you’ll never see her again?”
Seraphim extended a hand toward the Empty and retracted it. “I don’t claim to know everything. Maybe there is life after death, and we’ll be reunited. Or maybe I’ll simply die and join her in the silence.”
Maybe she found comfort in the thought, but I didn’t. An eternity of silence, a promise to never hear their voice, to see them smile.
“But. . .” Seraphim bit her lip. She tried to hold back tears, but her next words emerged with a sob. “I’m so happy Phaedrus got to see Eleos again. I would have given anything to meet my daughter. To see the woman she’d become.”
Grabbing Whisper’s scruff, I steered him toward her. Seraphim kneeled beside him, gratefully pulling the furry mound to her chest.
I admired her. The strength she displayed despite the pain she carried within.
This was the first time I’d ever seen her cry.
“You’re stronger than I am,” I said quietly.
Seraphim shook her head. “We’ve all stood here, at the brink. Me, Percy, Aethra . . .” She wiped her eyes. “And we all faced a decision: to step into the Empty’s embrace and let the silence take away the pain, or turn our backs, and keep going.”
I wandered closer to the Empty, trying to imagine Percy in the same position, working up the courage to step into oblivion. His voice had shaken with pain when he’d shared his most vulnerable tale, one night after sparring. I hadn’t quite understood, then.
When Aethra had cleaved a path through the Empty, she’d described the emotions it brought her: Emptiness, silence. Comfort in the stillness. Everything washed away.
But you were free. Free from pain and grief. From the throbbing agony that never ceased from the piece of you they’d taken with their passing.
My fingers reached toward the Empty, tempted.
Was I not to blame for Aethra’s condition? Every woman I’d loved had developed Elpis magic. They’d faced death and suffering, and I’d failed to save any of them.
Perhaps her chances for survival would be better without me. Without my curse looming over her.
A figure stepped from the Empty, like a swimmer breaching the surface of the ocean. Clammy skin clung to its bones, and its sallow eyes were hollow and dull. A keres.
Keres were always there, by the Empty. To drag others into darkness with them. No one knew why.
Limp strands of black hair fell from its skull, bound by a golden circlet. The ragged remains of a white gown clung to its bony figure, and torn-up feathers trailed down its back.
I gasped, tracing the edges of the faded golden collar wrapped around her throat.
“No,” I breathed, backing away, not wanting to believe the truth before my eyes.
I saw Ma’at in the keres’ fading golden eyes, in the white gown and feathered cape she’d departed this world in. I remembered the sight of her so clearly: looking over her shoulder to smile at me before her boat disappeared into the Acheron.
Seraphim watched me closely as the keres reached for me, claws brushing my skin.
Gods. The Keres were the Elpis maidens. How many had I killed? What if one had been Cassandra?
Seas. One day, Aethra would join them.
Ma’at’s claws wrapped around my arm and yanked me forward, drawing blood. Seraphim shot to her feet but did not intervene.
With unnatural strength, Mother’s keres dragged me back to the Empty, intent on pulling me into the void with her.
Did I want to fight back?
. . . did I even want to live? Percy was going to die. It was anyone’s guess if he or Aethra would pass first, but neither would last long. My mother, my best friend, and my love. Gone.
What point was there in continuing when you had nothing but gravestones to keep you company?
Closing my eyes, I gave up.
Ma’at yanked, pulling me to the ground. The Empty swirled a breath from my nose, and the motionless sea stretched before my eyes.
Whispers echoed inside the abyss, though all I’d heard before was silence. Strange emotions stirred within me, and I twisted my neck in discomfort.
I’d never felt such unease before. It wasn’t quite fear or pain. More like a warning whispered in the dark.
But I felt happiness, too. Like I’d been reunited with Mother, like Aethra had fallen into my arms after weeks spent apart. Memories of my childhood flashed before my eyes. Aching and nostalgic.
Something moved in the abyss. Nothing—nothing—had ever moved within the Empty. The keres appeared without warning; they could not be glimpsed traveling through the abyss before they emerged from its bounds.
An enormous shadow darkened the already oppressive void. It slithered across the sea, disturbing the eternally still water.
“Seth?” Seraphim shouted.
Ma’at’s claws dug deeper. Blood streamed from my shoulder and rushed down my arm. It swirled around me, but I wasn’t casting any spells.
My eyes widened, remembering the day I’d carried Aethra through the Empty.
“How did you manage it?” I asked.
“The day Ainwir saved me, I’d given up. I no longer cared if I lived or died.”
The shadow surged through the Empty, growing larger and larger as it approached. Bursting from the abyss, it coiled around me, blazing red eyes peering down from above.
The hood of a cobra obscured the moon. Scales faintly gleamed on its shadowed body, its tail writhing through nearly transparent water pooling beneath its great body.
I recognized it. The same creature was carved on Father’s throne—and appeared within the shadows of Cerys’ mural.
Mother released my arm and stepped away, becoming a tiny spot of white against the serpent’s great swath of shadow.
A flame in the dark. Ma’at had always been the spark of hope keeping this country from ruin.
How could I let everything she’d labored for fall apart?
That serpent had never been Father’s. It had been mine—and Mother had always known that.
The prophecy of the final maiden depicted me, not Haimyx.
Standing, I extended a hand, feeling the new magic rush inside me like a tempest. The snake moved at my command, gracefully dipping into the Empty and emerging again, like the silks of a dancer. It coiled around Seraphim before returning to me.
Seraphim laughed, staring up in awe at the creature. I grinned as realization struck me.
I was wielding Elpis magic.
I could forge into the Acheron and slam shut the Empty.
I could save Aethra. She needn’t die at the end of our journey—I would take her place.
Ma’at turned, shambling back toward the sheer cliff. Grabbing her wrist, I pulled her back.
What did I say? Was mother still in there, able to hear me?
“Thank you.” I managed.
She didn’t turn her head, but whispers carried from the void, caressing my face like the touch of her hands when she still lived.
“Do me proud, Set.”
Pulling from my grip, Ma’at returned to the Empty. She stepped past the border and vanished.
A piece of me went with her. A piece that had been with her for years.
Closing my eyes, I said my final farewells.
When I opened them again, Seraphim was standing beside me. “What will you do now?”
Gathering myself, I turned to her. “I’m taking my Godsdamned city back from Eris.”
She grinned. “Then let’s go kill the bitch.”