My lips quaver. I seal them tight, eyes stinging. If not for Eurus, I would have met my death in that ferocious water. But I was saved. The day is not yet done.
Less than a mile later, I spot the East Wind slumped against a tree, nursing a broken arm. It is a sight like summer, a brilliant, most vibrant sun.
My breath comes short. I vowed I would not break, not yet. I would wait until we had returned to the privacy of our palace suite.
But he is whole. A bit bruised, perhaps, and shaken, but not broken like those splintered trees. And as his eyes meet mine, a sob fights its way free of my clenched teeth.
Eurus limps toward me, mud-spattered wings trailing behind him. His expression is one of agonized relief. “Bird.”
I fall into his arms. How can I not? The brine of the sea fills my nostrils; I inhale it greedily. And his voice, hisvoice. It is a balm as he murmurs reassurances, a promise that I am safe, and he is well, and we are together.
“I thought…” Another wavering breath shudders out of me. No matter the years that pass, I will never forget the image of his hand torn from my grip, its disappearance beneath the rising flood. “Eurus—”
His mouth crashes onto mine, eager tongue parting my lips, and I’ve half a mind to rip off his cloak and finish what was started in the cave. As I press forward, he releases a soft hiss of pain. His arm!
When I attempt to pull away, Eurus growls, “No,” and hauls me closer.
The kiss is one of insanity. It is everything, every fraught terror, every broken thread of yearning, every sugar-drenched wish of tomorrow.
By the time we pull apart, I’m panting. “The beast,” I manage. “Was that the one everyone’s been talking about?”
Grave is his mouth, the narrowing of his black eyes. “Yes, but it is dead. I imagine the council captured it, thinking it would make good sport for the final trial.”
Of course they would. “When you were swept downstream, I—”
“Bird.” One of his large hands cradles my face. “I’m all right,” he whispers, brushing his lips with mine. “We both are.”
Thank the Mother of Earth for that.
It is then he takes me into his arms. The dripping fabric of his cloak sticks to my chilled skin, yet I do not feel cold in the slightest. But his trembling gives me pause. The poison!
I pull back in worry, only to find the East Wind laughing. “What is it?” I ask in confusion.
His chuckle tapers off, and he points. “Look.”
The door.
Perched on a distant hill, haloed by a red sun, its gold-plated frame is every dream realized. I have never seen a more beautiful sight.
“We did it, bird.” Eurus gazes down at me, and in his eyes, I see a depth of emotion I have yearned for, quietly, on those particularly frigid nights in the privacy of my bedroom. “We won.”
Biting my quivering lower lip, I nod, throat too tight to speak. So we did.
Together, arms wrapped around each other’s waists, we hobble toward salvation. With every step forward, the earth rises, but not once do we lose our footing. Then we are standing before the door, outlined in a ring of light. The East Wind offers his hand. It says,I am with youandYou are not aloneandTogether, always.As I slip my hand into his, Eurus turns the handle, and together, we stumble through.
26
IHAVE NEVER RESTED SOwell as I do in the hours following the third trial. I am nestled under thick blankets on one of the infirmary cots, a wall of windows overlooking the ivy-covered courtyard. Below, deities mill about, some reading on benches beneath the large shade trees, others congregating near the fountain to discuss the tournament.
Eurus lies unconscious on a neighboring cot. The grime of his clothes sticks to his skin, his every cut a vibrant red against the bruises mottling his face. I would reach for his hand were I not afraid it might wake him. After he was given the antidote to Gray Snare, the healer administered an incredibly strong sleep potion, to allow his body to recover. He will need to stay overnight for further observation.
One hundred and ten contestants entered the tournament, but only one triumphed, in the end. The East Wind claimed victory, but at what cost? Tomorrow, at the victor’s banquet, he will poison the Council of Gods with Eastern Blood. It may be his hand doling out the sentence, but what of his silent accomplice—me? Do I not hold some responsibility for the council’s demise?
Once my end of the bargain has been fulfilled, Eurus will take me back to St. Laurent, where Lady Clarisse lies in wait. The knowledge wedges a tightness against my ribs. Then again, what did I expect?The City of Gods is not my home, nor my heart. I will leave and he will stay. This is what was always written.
An hour later, I’m discharged from the infirmary. While Eurus recuperates, I return to our suite, where I pen a final message to her ladyship.
Dear Lady Clarisse,
