“The garden’s completely safe. And Boo’s with her.”
“Boo is approximately the size of a loaf of bread and has the protective instincts of a friendly butterfly.”
Archer laughed. “Fair point.”
We stepped out into the garden, the night air cool against my skin. The moon hung full and bright overhead, bathing everything in its silvery glow. It took a moment for our eyes to adjust, but then we spotted Quill in a small clearing surrounded by rose bushes. She was spinning in circles, her nightgown billowing around her like a cloud as Boo chased his tail beside her.
Archer put a hand on my arm, stopping me before I could call out to her. “Wait. Look at her. She’s happy. So happy I can feel it. Can’t you?”
I hesitated, then nodded, moving back into the shadow of a tall hedge. From our vantage point, we could watch withoutdisturbing her joy. She needed that moment after the council of the gods. We’d all been on edge for days.
Quill continued her dance, her wild curls bouncing with each twirl. She laughed when Boo jumped up, trying to catch the hem of her nightgown, the sound pure and untroubled in a way that had become increasingly rare.
Archer whispered, “She deserves this. Moments where she doesn’t have to worry about gods or kingdoms or bonds.”
“Or me,” I added softly.
He turned to me sharply. “That’s not what I meant.”
“But it’s true. She worries about me. You both do.”
“Because we love you.” He squeezed my hand. “That’s how it works, remember?”
Before I could respond, a movement at the edge of the garden caught my attention. Minerva emerged from the shadows, her cane tapping softly against the stone path. She paused when she saw Quill, her normally severe expression softening as she watched the child dance. She stood there for several moments before she spotted us, dipped her chin and moved in our direction.
“I guess none of us are sleeping these days,” she said.
“Guess not,” Archer answered, but something in his posture changed, a sudden alertness that I felt more than saw. His hand tensed in mine, and his gaze darted around the garden with newfound intensity.
“What?”
“I don’t know.” His voice had dropped, taking on an edge I rarely heard. “Something feels wrong.”
I followed his gaze, scanning the garden more carefully. The shadows between the hedges seemed deeper somehow, more substantial.
Archer released my hand, already moving forward. “Stay here,” he ordered, his voice no longer that of my friend but of a warrior sensing danger.
“Archer—”
But he was already striding toward Quill, his movements fluid and purposeful. I felt the thrumming of our bond, the burning knot on my shoulder warming in response to his alarm.
Quill looked up as he approached. “Archie! Look at my dance!”
“It’s beautiful, Pencil,” he said, his tone deliberately light though his eyes never stopped scanning the garden. “But it’s late. Let’s get you back inside.”
The shadows behind the nearby statue shifted. Aeris lunged from behind the marble, snatching Quill by the arm. The child’s scream pierced the night as she was yanked backward against the goddess’s chest.
My Remnants exploded outward in a tidal wave of darkness, fueled by primal rage that scorched through my veins like wildfire. They surged across the garden, reaching, clawing as I raced forward.
“Let her go!” The words tore from my throat, raw and desperate.
Minerva was already moving, her frail appearance melting away as she raised her hand. But it was too late, everything was happening too fast.
Boo launched himself at Aeris, tiny teeth bared in fierce protection, but my Remnants wrapped around him like a blanket, holding him back, protecting him as they continued to race forward. If anything happened to that dog… Quill screamed again, struggling and twisting in the goddess’s grip. My shadows wrapped around Quill’s stomach, pulling her toward me, but Aeris’s grip on her was iron tight.
Archer was a blur of motion, covering the distance between them in heartbeats. His face transformed by a fury I’d never seen before. With one powerful movement, he tore Quill from Aeris’s grasp, shoving the child safely behind him.
Then the world stopped. In one motion. One fraction of a second. One devastating breath. Aeris plunged a blade into Archer’s chest with terrible precision. The sound of metal against bone echoed across the garden, obscene in its finality. Time fractured. I fractured. Archer stumbled backward, his eyes wide with shock. Blood bloomed across his white shirt like spilled wine, darkening from crimson to black in the moonlight. His mouth opened, forming words I couldn’t hear through the roaring in my ears.
