I whip my head back to a falling fireball, and the panic returns. “No, no, you’re wrong. They are stars, not gods.”
“And yet, I’m not. The gods are falling, dying, or dead.” She looks up and wipes her cheek. “We can’t live in times of green and joy forever. Every forest has its shadows.”
“What does that even mean?” Mordecai growls in frustration, turning to watch another star fall.
“It means that bad times are upon us,” Kaida whispers.
“Smart girl,” the old lady says with approval. “I wish I were wrong. It would be so much better if this didn’t have to happen.”
I watch her carefully.
“When he tells you about the gods dying, remember this conversation, young man,” she says to me. “You remember this moment. And remember what I told you in your dreams.”
I stare at her, my mouth dry.
“Remember your sister, Sorcha,” she says regretfully, with so much sympathy that her words take a moment to register.
The name lights up my insides like a fire.
“Remember that there will come a time when you will need to remember that the gods died. They didn’t desert you; they didn’t leave or abandon you; they never lost faith. They died.”
“How do gods die?” Kaida asks. “That seems so impossible.”
“Well, you need the cooperation between an alpha and omega god or goddesses, but that’s my point. She couldn’t find anyone to help her, no one but the betas she blackmailed and conned.”
“So, they aren’t dead?”
The old lady shrugs a frail shoulder. “Perhaps they are not dead; perhaps they are. But if they could be revived…we could undo everything that’s going to happen.”
I’m already starting to think this old woman is crazy, but she just shrugs and takes a few shuffling steps to the edge of the building.
“Hey, what are you—”
“The Anarchy Wolf will save you,” she says and then steps back into the air. She disappears so quickly, just there and gone.
Kaida screams, but I grab her and hold her tight. We huddle on the roof, staring at these falling gods until dawn when they just suddenly stop.
“The stars are gone,” Kaida whispers.
My hands ache from how hard we’re holding onto each other, but when I look up, the sky is grey and cloudy; the stars are gone.
But that’s when the screaming begins.
And everything gets so much worse.
Jarek
Haven; Resistance Camp
Present Day
I sit up gasping. I climb to my feet, stumble out of the tent, and just manage to get to the bushes before I throw up. When I finish, I rinse my mouth out and spit until I feel human again.
“This keeps getting worse and worse,” I mutter when I’m crouched over, waiting to see if the nausea passes.
Mordecai sits down beside me. “How much do you remember?”
“Every time I say I remember it all, I remember something else.”
