CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Iopened my eyes to a vast, empty room.
The air was so still that I heard the hitch of air in my own lungs.
I pushed myself up and looked around curiously.
The place was beautiful and unfamiliar. The floors were made of shining tile, with golden walls on either side and an elegant, arched ceiling.
A green skirt pooled around me, and I realized I was wearing a dress that I’d gotten over the summer.
The last day I’d worn it had been a happy one. We’d had a barbecue.
Was this … Heaven?
I knew I should’ve been terrified or uneasy, but it felt like I’d left those emotions behind in all the mud, blood, and chaos.
Slowly, I got to my feet, and the dress fell into place around me.
I started walking, studying the intricate ceiling with awe.
Why this place? I wondered. I had expected the dreamscape, but secretly, I’d been hoping I would wind up at that lake, with all its glittering water and cloudless blue skies.
The quiet shattered when shouts boomed from somewhere in the distance.
The sound was muffled, as if it had come from beneath a blanket.
I froze, holding my breath, worried that even the sound of my breath would make me miss something.
Moments later, I heard the unmistakable echo of wild, joyous cheers.
And that was when I knew for certain—it worked.
It worked. The Gate was shut. I’d achieved what Olorel couldn’t, and I hadn’t slaughtered an entire bloodline to do it.
As the cheering went on, I smiled faintly.
I imagined Gil clapping Adam on the back, and Laurie kissing Collith.
Longing shot through me. I wished I could be there to see it, to take part in it.
But I didn’t mind, I decided. I didn’t mind that it had ended like this.
My death had purpose, and more importantly, my family was safe.
They were stronger than I had given them credit for, and they’d already proven they could survive without me.
I could move on knowing they would be happy.
That they would live. Air slipped between my lips and my shoulders loosened.
I lowered my head to begin looking for a way out.
My mother stood in front of me.
All at once, those distant sounds went silent. My heart beat in my ears as I stared at her. I had to swallow before I could speak. “Mama? Is that really you?”
She pressed her hand against her mouth, muffling a sob, and ran toward me.
I launched into a sprint, as well, tears already streaming from the corners of my eyes.
We met halfway, and Mom’s arms came around me without hesitation.
She cupped the back of my head and we pressed into each other as if all those years of separation had never happened.
As if I hadn’t been responsible for her death.
The thought made me draw back, and a strangled sound left my throat. I bowed my head, composing myself, then forced my gaze back to hers. “Mama, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that I—”
She held my face in her palms, and God, I hadn’t realized how fiercely I’d missed this. Being with my mother. Smelling the oil she used to put on her hands. “Listen to me very closely, Fortuna,” she said.
Here she paused, and we both smiled through our sorrow as we remembered how often she’d said that during our lessons. Listen to me very closely, Fortuna. And what had I always said next?
“I’m listening, Mama.” My voice shook.
“Good. Good girl.” Mom pressed her own trembling lips together.
Then she took a breath and looked into my eyes.
Her voice was firmer as she said, “You have nothing to be sorry for. Do you understand? What happened that night—the creature you created—is not your fault. We do not blame you in any way. You are infinitely precious to us, and we considered it an honor to be your parents in the time we were given.”
I fought another sob. It felt like she’d pulled open the stitches of a wound I’d hidden away. “But if you hadn’t had me, if I hadn’t been born, you wouldn’t have—”
“If you were so unworthy, Fortuna, you wouldn’t have been given this chance,” Mom cut in gently.
My eyebrows drew together. “What do you mean?”
She squeezed my hands. “I’m here because you have a choice to make, sweetheart.
This is a special place, an in-between place.
This is where powerful souls decide their own fate.
The truth is, you’re not completely dead yet, Fortuna.
You still have the option to return to your body on Earth, and continue the life you have there.
Or you are allowed to rest, if that’s what you want.
I can’t tell you what comes next, because that is something everyone must discover for themselves, but I do know that it’s peaceful. ”
I hesitated. The strange sense of calm I’d felt when I’d first arrived here was gone, and now my insides roiled with indecision. “Will I be with you and Dad?” I asked.
Mom gave me a faint, bittersweet smile. She reached up and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. “I don’t know.”
She didn’t say anything more, and somehow, I understood that it was because I had to make this choice alone.
The enormity of it hit me. I thought of the ones I’d left behind.
They could survive without me, it was true.
For once it wasn’t a matter of survival.
What did I want? Was I content to leave the story here, now that I knew there could be more?
It was a good ending, I thought. An honorable one, even.
I’d faced death too many times to count.
Every time it came, I had been all too willing to accept the darkness.
I’d played the martyr, when the truth was entirely selfish.
It was guilt, and self-loathing, and fear that had made me so eager to escape into oblivion.
But this was different. If I went back now I knew that I couldn’t pull my old bullshit anymore. The constant excuses were gone. Damon was safe. The world was saved. Today, I had to ask the question—did I want to live?
Surviving had been so hard. But the part that came after might be even harder. Could I really let go of the past and move on?
I tried to imagine it, the life waiting for me if I returned to that muddy battlefield.
I’d make more mistakes, that was a given.
I’d probably laugh a lot more, too. There would be more Matthew, more Damon, more …
everyone. More barbecues and celebrations and sunny days after so many long, dark nights.
The corners of my mouth tilted upward at the thought.
The uncertainty in my heart faded.
At last, I came back to the present. I wasn’t sure how long I had been standing there. The light hadn’t changed, and those distant sounds were silent now. Did that mean the battle was over? I refocused on my mother, reluctant to face what came next.
And even though she hadn’t raised me, or had a single conversation with me in over a decade, Mom knew. She smiled again and said, “You’ve made your decision, then.”
As she spoke, light passed over her features. I turned, looking for its source, and somehow I wasn’t surprised to see a door of light.
It was time.
Urgency gripped me. I faced Mom and hugged her again, holding her as tightly as I could without hurting her. My eyes squeezed shut, and I tried to memorize how she felt in my arms. What her perfume smelled like.
Mom cupped the back of my head again and whispered, “I am so proud of you.”
I pulled back, searching her gaze through a sheen of tears. Sometimes there was nothing to say that would encompass the universe of feeling inside you. No combination of words to express all the contradictions that were making your heart come apart. So I kissed my mother’s cheek and let her go.
This time, she wasn’t the one to leave—I was. I turned away slowly, part of me tempted to change my mind. To hold on even tighter and travel to the next world together, wherever that might be.
But that was just the fear talking.
I kept going.
It was almost identical to how I’d passed through worlds before.
I walked toward the light, and it got brighter and brighter, almost blinding.
The air felt warm and thick, as if a storm was gathering.
Just before the magic swallowed me, I glanced over my shoulder, wanting one final glimpse of my mother.
She stood there, young and shining and beautiful.
This, I decided, lingering there. This was how I would remember her.
I smiled, and she smiled back, raising her hand in a brief wave.
I waved back before I faced the Door again.
I closed my eyes, acknowledging the pain. Waiting for it to move through me.
Once it had passed, I took a breath and walked into that vibrant, looming beyond.
When I opened my eyes again, back in the midst of battle, Zara was crouched over me.
She was obviously in the process of healing my wounds.
The moment I became aware of it, the pain hit.
I gritted my teeth and looked around, trying to get my bearings.
Behind Zara, the Gate was still closed, and I almost sobbed with relief—part of me had worried it was a dream or a hallucination.
Dying made you see such strange things, sometimes. My mother’s face swam before me.
I told myself I’d have to think about that later.
The Gate was shut, but the fighting hadn’t ended.
The hills were overrun with demons, and they were inching closer and closer, despite the Guardians that had formed a protective circle around us.
Viessa was dead, along with countless others.
So much loss. So much death. And for what? My jaw hardened.
It was time to finish this once and for all.
Zara was frowning. She leaned back, her hands covered in my blood, but the wound she’d been pressing down on was gone now. The skin beneath my pierced armor was smooth.