“I can see them,” she whispered, the Moirae’s power making her eyes glow from within. “Everyone in our weave-line. Everyone I’ve ever loved.”
I pressed my face against Theron’s chest, shaking. I didn’t want to watch, but I couldn’t turn away, either. Enyo’s magnificent wings were already fraying, individual feathers dissolving into strands of silver-blue. The process looked methodical, almost surgical. Not violent destruction but careful undoing, each thread returning to its original state.
As Enyo’s flesh came apart, the light she emanated streamed toward her children. Where the energy touched Phonos, his body stopped fading away. Alecto’s blurred edges sharpened back into focus, and Megaera’s aged features returned to their proper state. They were going to live.
“Thank you,” Enyo said to her children as her face began to disappear. “For being mine to love.”
I didn’t hear the words being spoken. Her vocal cords, the same ones that had cursed Agrion, must have already vanished. But I felt her goodbye, anyway, as if she was reaching out to me too.
“Always, Mother,” Phonos replied, no longer sounding as weak as before.
Enyo smiled and closed her eyes. There was a bright flash, and just like that, the last of her existence dissolved into pure death energy. When it was over, only a single black feather remained where she had knelt.
I stared at the feather, my throat tight with conflicted emotions. No matter what Enyo had done or believed, the kindness she’d shown me felt real. No matter what secrets the Keres had kept, they’d cared for me. And now, Enyo was gone. Forever.
The Moirae began to fade from the chamber. “When you are ready,” Lachesis said to us, “complete what was begun between you. Your threads have found their proper pattern.”
And then they vanished, leaving us in the ruins with three healing Keres and the memory of a mother’s sacrifice.
Phonos picked up the feather, his hand steady despite everything he’d endured. He looked at me with eyes that held no blame, only weary acceptance. “This wasn’t what any of us wanted, but... I think she would have wished for you to have this.”
When he offered me the feather, I couldn’t bring myself to refuse it. Everything still felt so wrong, so complicated. He didn’t seem to be mourning Enyo the way I’d expected. But I believed him when he said she’d wanted something different for all of us.
Cradling the feather against my chest, I leaned against Theron. His arms offered the only stability in a world that had shown me too much, too fast.
“We should go,” he said gently. “Let them heal.”
I nodded, and he picked me up and carried me through the shattered window. Neither of us spoke. We both knew that weneeded time to grasp what we’d witnessed, what we’d lost, what we’d gained.
Below us, Asphodelia kept glowing with gentle light. My new home, where people were woven from the deaths of others, where mothers could unmake themselves to save their children, where the massacre of my village wasn’t considered murder.
I was learning to live in this world. Today, I’d learned that understanding it might take much longer.
Chapter 12
Secrets of the Lake
Theron
Oneweeklater
The workshop under the Stygian Docks had never welcomed visitors. I descended the steps carved into Lake Acheron’s shore, each footfall echoing through the dark tunnels. Callista’s hand found mine as we navigated the narrow passage.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked my mate. “Aion’s down there, and I need to see him. But you don’t have to come with me.”
Truth be told, the last thing I wanted was to have Callista in Charon’s presence. She’d lost so much to him already. His touch had stolen the sanctity of her mind. But Callista had never been one to shy away from a threat. “I’m not letting you see him without me,” she said, and I didn’t have the heart to refuse her.
At last, we came up to an ominous, dark door. Crafted out of Stygian iron, it reminded me of the chains Charon had swung at me when I’d been in my monstrous, three-headed form. My fur stood on end, but I reached out to knock, anyway.
The door swung open before I could touch it. “The destroyer comes to survey his handiwork,” Charon sneered from the doorway. His fathomless eyes scanned me from head to toe and obviously found me lacking. “How thoughtful.”
Callista glared at the ferryman, clearly not appreciating his sarcasm. I squeezed her hand. Charon wasn’t wrong, and the sooner we got out of here, the better off we’d both be.
“We’re here to see Aion,” I rumbled. “How is he?”
Charon stepped aside, gesturing us into the cavernous space. “Perhaps you should come see for yourself.”
Heat washed over us as we crossed the threshold. Tools older than memory cluttered every surface, their purposes lost to time except in Charon’s immortal hands.
