Then, with justice served, I could walk into the Empty and . . .
I heard someone move behind me. Spinning around, I lifted my blade in time to deflect a crimson scythe burning with fire.
Seraphim leaped back and smirked. “Not bad. I thought I had you.”
“Were you intending to kill me?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Just testing your reflexes.” She tossed the scythe aside, and it turned to ash. “Were you hoping she’d have forgiven you by now?”
Sighing, I looked away.
“You know what I think you need?” Seraphim sauntered toward me. Her face softened when she met my eye. “To say goodbye.”
“What do you mean?”
“My pain didn’t start to fade until I said goodbye.” She smiled sadly. “It still aches, but . . . less than it used to. I was able to move on.”
“How could I?” I asked, stabbing my blade into the ground. “They didn’t get funerals.”
“Neither did Rhea,” Seraphim said softly. She’d never mentioned her wife’s name before. “Come with me,” she said, turning on her heel and marching off.
Pulling my hood up, I followed her. She found her way to the channel and walked along its edge, following it back to its source.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“There’s something you need to see,” she said, directing me to follow her across the road into the thick wood growing along the riverbed.
Brushing a tree-branch out of my way, I looked around as we forged into an overgrown copse. A sense of familiarity struck me, and I stopped.
We’d wandered into Mother’s garden.
Nobody had tended it in years. The flowers had wilted, the grass had overgrown. Only her beloved trees remained, swaying gently in the breeze.
A wind chime rang, drawing my eyes to the boughs. Old feathers hung from a cord, decorating the makeshift ornament. I’d made that for Mother decades ago, as a child. And she’d hung it there with pride.
“Why . . .” I trailed off.
“I remember a time when this was beautiful.” Seraphim spread her arms. “But nobody cared to tend it anymore. It’s in a poor spot of the city, not the noble district.”
“Mother built it here specificallybecause—” I bit my tongue. Seraphim didn’t need to hear those words. She already knew.
Joining my side, Seraphim looked up at the rusted wind chime. “It’s a small thing, but I thought you needed to see this.”
It wasn’t a small thing. My teeth ground together, and I curled my fingers into a fist.
This city had once been the only spot of good in this damned country, and when Mother died, the last spark of hope went with her.
I closed my eyes, repressing a sob. If traveling into the Acheron would claim Aethra’s life, then I would ensure it claimed mine as well. I would not return to a world without her.
For there would no longer be any reason to live.
18
Aethra
The taste of Seth’s lips lingered on mine as I stared at the dark ceiling of our tiny hideout.
A bundle of cloaks and a worn mat fashioned my royal bed—a queenly comfort after weeks of travel and imprisonment. Eleos sat beside me, flipping through his journal.
