Chapter 42
SORROW
A new God, the last God, will rise from the ashes of the immortals. Their intent as dark as spilled ink. Our final days will be forged in chains, broken and split, until only the God of Devastation remains.
— THE HISTORIES AND PROPHECIES OF THE STAR-CROSSED GODS: PROPHECIES OF MYRDDIN
I stood in the decaying remains of a falling temple, my sight gone, as the sky rent itself open, announcing the end of our world.
There were no Gods to blame or curse any more.
This was a wretchedness created by human hands.
An incapacity to recognise the potential of pure evil as she slowly cleaved her way through nations and crowns.
No. The end of days wouldn’t be wrought by some unseen force greater than us.
And the Gods, those fickle deities, fought my threads.
The screams, the crashes, even the sound of tearing flesh assaulted my ears, taunted me and my eyes as I saw nothing but darkness.
Cracking flashes tore at the edges of my sight, but nothing made sense.
My whole body erupted in a wave of purple ribbons, slamming into the fallen Gods, compelling, demanding they heed my cries.
Then Matthias’s scream, the heavy sound of his body crashing against the floor of the lost temple, hit me.
For a few frantic heartbeats, the world halted.
I craned my ears as Pablo nudged me, a whine, the first time I’d ever sensed true fear from the wolf.
The purple threads slammed back into me, as though they had no taste for the bodies of the Gods.
I exhaled hard as Matthias’s pants, pained grunts, reached me.
But he was hurt. And I would not lose him this day.
‘Go to him.’ My voice broke, but for once, the wolf answered my call without question. His claws scrabbling over the rocks.
Cursing, I sent out the threads again. There’d be no beasts on this isle, but I had a plethora of corpses.
Silver ribbons curled around their violet companions, and I swore.
Whatever Evella had said, I didn’t have the time to work out how to get these damned threads to work as one.
Time was not my friend. The Gods may defy me, but there was another corpse.
Ifan.
My heart twisted as the threads prodded the fresh corpse.
The youngest Elmswood. My pulse thudded as my legs threatened to buckle.
For the briefest moment, the ghostly whisper of Matthias’s fingers brushed mine, the brief scent of summer flowers whipped past me, the sun cascading through the canopy of the elm in the bower warmed my cheek, flooding me with unwavering faith.
The purple threads claimed Ifan. We braced our legs, steadied as the ground cowered.
Memories of the little boy in a darkened room flooded us.
A single candle, almost burnt to the wick, drew the moths.
The child sobbed, buried his head in his arms as the flame died and still the moths came.
A man, desperate for the praise of the brother he adored.
The fear in his heart as he realised his mistake, the girl he’d given his bruised heart to becoming the Illusory she truly was.
Terror gripping him at the final realisation.
That the Vyrium he’d allowed her to tattoo on his skin bound him to the Carushan monster he’d believed he’d escaped.
We grasped Ifan’s hatred, his agony and strength. We lunged for her throat. Our fingers skimmed the clammy flesh. We dived again, but our hand…
Ifan screamed into our mind. Frustration tore what remained of his soul as with a wave of her hand, she eviscerated us – him. Matthias cried out his brother’s name. A wild wind whipped up all that remained of Ifan Elmswood, scattering him to the Whispering Sea.
The threads snapped back as we screamed. My eyes snapped open to the fractured shadows that were now my sight. The silver thrashed, claiming the purple, but there was no time. I heaved against the ache in my lungs. Thrust out my threads. There were more dead awaiting my call.
We poured all our vengeance into the God who personified it. His power, his might flooded us and we—
No. The echo of his voice reverberated through my skull.
His still beating heart lay like a shield, denying us his form.
We shoved again, my body screaming and trembling as Vyrus opened his eyes, visions of the temple cracked against our mind.
Matthias, his face stained with gore and ash, dragging himself forward, his fingers reaching for the hearts now glowing amongst the rubble.
We tore at the God, desperate to allow us in. But though he didn’t move, his pulse thundered a warning.
We swarmed back, back towards the Goddess lying rent beside us.
She rose. We rose. Gasping, our pearly eyes locked on the man screaming, a stain of blood marking his path as his fingers grasped the chains.
My man. Delphine gazed at the wolf tearing her dress, her brows furrowed as with a flick of her wrist, the beast whined, slammed back against the broken archway.
We raised our hands as the wolf stood, shaking on trembling legs, snarling.
Delphine yelped, slammed her boot onto Matthias and grasped the hearts.
‘Mine,’ she screamed and starlight flooded our veins. The heavens trembled as we barely contained their ire. Ire we’d destroy her with. A burst of purest magic exploded from our hands, the force sending us tumbling.
Grinning, we swiped the strands of hair from our face. The smile fading as she stood there laughing. Delphine lifted the crystal heart and we groaned.
‘Protection,’ she sang. ‘I am protection. I am vengeance. I am—’
‘MY KING!’
Asher. The threads halted. Shivered as Asher crawled over the rubble.
My mind scrambled to make sense as the threads fled Evella. My scream at the final vision her eyes gifted me cleaved the world.
Matthias. My Matthias. Delphine on one knee before him, crowing, glee splitting her crumbling face before he—
I fell to my knees as the world stilled.