“Your boon.” He turns to Krokan. “Tell me how I can use it to stay with her. Grant us a life together where our world is safe and our future is secure.”
The old god regards him thoughtfully. His tentacles are slowly unfurling from the roots, relaxing as he’s slipping into the depths. For a moment, I think he will leave without a response. But then…
“Come with us, child,” Krokan says, finally.
“What?” Ilryth whispers.
“Come,” Krokan commands, the water nearly covering his eyes now. Ilryth starts toward the sea.
“No.” I grab Ilryth’s hand. “I won’t let you.”
“This is the only way.” He squeezes my fingers and gives me a brave smile. “You do what you must, as will I. We both bear the words of the gods and a duet requires two voices.”
“Ilryth…”
“Trust in me, as I trust in you.” He kisses me, and I kiss him back, savoring the taste and feeling of him one last time.
He follows the old gods underneath the sea, disappearing with the tentacles and radiant light that was Lellia. I wish there was more time. It’s all been so fast.
I march back for the tree. Alone but determined. Life is audacious. And even death isn’t eternal. Our song will echo into the ages.
The siren are still there, kneeling in the sand, howling in their grief. I ignore them as I march up to the core of the Lifetree. The opening where Lellia once rested. I crawl into the ether suspended in the trunk and curl into a ball, positioning myself just as she was. Closing my eyes, I begin to sing the song I learned from the last remnants of the old gods.
The wood closes tightly around me.
CHAPTER53
It isboth light and dark, day and night. Neither good, neither bad. Both simply…are. The world exists in a whorl that spins in time to my endless song.
But I don’t sing alone. There are others who join me. They sing tales of the human who took the mantle of a goddess. Of her lover who descended into the sea and was never heard from again.
There are voices I know. Of old friends, long gone. And of new kin that were left behind. My heart sings for a family that thrives, safe and sound in a distant, coastal town. It aches for man who waits at my door alongside those that aren’t his kind. Some of the songs are beautiful and skilled. Others are woefully out of pitch.
There are voices I don’t know and have never met. Souls that stretch across space, and time. A woman ascends to a wooden throne, connected by root and magic to this distant tree. A man encased in crystal, the soul of his lover singing a dirge of longing and loss. The squeals of a young child of two worlds being taught by a new fae queen whose father has yet to know she is so near. A spirit that screams for freedom during a bloodred night. The curl of magic that whispers in the last bloodlines of a Natural World. Forgotten peoples and distant forces that ebb and flow with the shifting of days and years.
And then… at long last, there’s another voice. One from deep below. One that somehow always knows the words before I sing them. Harmonies before I need them.
Even more time passes, I believe.Time is such a mortal notion. I understand that now, what those old gods meant when they tried to communicate as much to me.
But I am not one of those mighty beings from a time long before the age of mortals, not truly. Yet, I am also not what I was before, either. I have changed again. I am new. And yet also somehow ancient. Eternal but fleeting. The silvered and gold lines that coat my flesh tell the stories of the old ones that came before me. I am the keeper of the last vestiges of their magic, and their memories. The anchor for the final of the gifts they bestowed upon this world. I am also the overseer, the one who will help guide and protect the growth of all that might come after.
But I am not alone in this singular responsibility. Thatother voicecontinues singing. Louder and louder. He calls to me in a way that only he knows how. In a way that only I would heed.
I’ve come for you, just as you asked, he sings.We have given to the world. We have sacrificed and stabilized. There is nothing more to fear. Now it is time again for us to live.
At first, I am afraid to leave the confines of my new home. It is safe here and I am comfortable. His song is patient and reassuring, yet somehow also reminding me that being stationary does not suit me. Confinement, even one I choose, is not in my nature—it is what led to the downfall of the last woman who occupied this stasis, however alluring the comfort might be. For the sake of all those I care for, am responsible for, I must move.
At long last, I begin to wriggle against the confines of my tiny world. Stretching. Pushing. Trying to test the barriers that fight to keep me in place—keep me as I am. Already they have closed in around me, hardening into place.
No, that will not be the arrangement this time… I am not an ancient goddess, struggling to survive in a world no longer built for her. I was born of the mortal lands, molded by the people of them, I still bear their markings on my flesh. I am Victoria, sailor, explorer, lover, and fighter. There are too many different things within me to fade away quietly and allow these woody spears to pierce my heart and hold me in place.
It takes what feels like ages to push and pull, exploring my powers and exerting them over the cage I am within. All the while, my soul sings life into the world, and his distant voice calls to me. I finally find a way out. The tree finally heeds my commands and a tunnel forms before me. With a gasp, I wriggle and force myself through, pushing toward distant sunlight. I am bloomed back into the mortal world with the opening of soft petals and a whisper of promise.
The song is louder now. The duet that has filled the back of my mind for years. It’s as forceful as a storm. As demanding as the tides that swell against the shores collected in the roots of my tree.
“Vic—Victoria?” Kevhan is there on the beach. He is appointed with siren clothing and medallions. Markings have been drawn all over him. Songs of protection ring in my ears. I can read the inkings with ease now—especially since I was the one to sing them for him. He is stabilized while underneath my boughs, but there is so much more I can yet do for him.
“Hello, Lord Applegate. It’s been some time, I believe.” I step from the woody flower that bloomed where the door once was, off a large petal that has unfurled like a carpet for me to descend. A haze of swirling silver surrounds me, trailing through the air following my movements, condensing into silver leaves that dot the sand below.
