“That’s your first concern?” Nash grumbles, squeezing Theo’s shoulder in greeting.
I shrug. “The realm has had it out for me since the day I was born, so the Idols organizing themselves with paperwork doesn’t change anything. Not really.”
If I say this enough times, surely it will make it true.
Hart snatches the parchment and glares at me. “No, now creatures far and wide have been offered life-changing riches to bring both you and Gwyneth to your knees before them.”
“There are only four men I’ll sink to my knees for.”
Malachi snorts, and Hart’s gaze turns heated with memory.
“How are you here?” Theo growls. His dragon is still riding him hard and needs reassurance.
“We can explain while we travel,” Nash says with a nod toward the path leading back to our horses. “I don’t want to be out in the open.”
It takes longer than it should to climb the mountain back to our campsite. The knights make quick work of clearing the evidence that we were ever here, and then we mount up and head on our way.
I huff at the indignity of the Idols’ desperate actions as they struggle for control. Control they should never have had in the first place. They warped this place, once ripe with wonder and promise, into a dreaded and predictable world. They sense the realm rearing to claim its independence. Creatures and beings might not have been alive long enough to remember the marrow of the land they exist on, but they know deep in their souls that there is something they need to fight to return to.
I don’t doubt that many will mobilize to try to bring me and Gwyneth to the Idols. They’ll fail because they’re operating within the parameters of their narrative, while we write it. You can’t alter the architect of destiny. You can get on board, or get out of the way.
Quest has become war. Breath has become blood. Intention has become violence.
“You’re doing a lot of heavy thinking,” Theo says, holding me tighter against him on the back of the horse. “Nobody, Idol or not, will steal you away from us ever again.”
I thread my fingers through his and turn to stare at him over my shoulder. “Agreed. But it is I who will burn them to the ground should anyone dare to come between us.”
His eyes squeeze closed, and he drags in a breath. His skin heats for a tempo before cooling as I skim my lips against his. “I think you stole a part of my soul,” he murmurs.
I shake my head. “No, we exchanged. Can’t you feel me here beneath your ribs?”
“I can.”
“Before I died, I made a wish,” I explain. “Let no story end because I was loved.”
“The genie couldn’t have informed us?” Theo snarls.
“It doesn’t work like that. One of you had to work out the loophole.”
“That would be me,” Nash adds. “I feel stupid for not having figured it out sooner.”
“You only had half the information,” I point out. “No harm done. I’m here now, and we are whole together in a way not even an army of Idols can deny.”
“What was your wish?” Theo asks Nash.
Nash grimaces as he faces the forest we are trekking back into. “For Daphne to return to us permanently and never leave us again. To never be at the whim of the Idols.”
“The wishes threaded together and did the unthinkable,” Theo says. “Impressive future-proofing, pretty mouse. I felt the shift in the stars and wondered for a split tempo if it was you reaching for me.”
“I was reaching for you, but back here where you could find me. I would never be so cruel as to taunt you with something you couldn’t have.”
“Do I?” His voice is raw and vulnerable.
“Do you what?”
“Have you?”
I hate that my demise shook their confidence and the way they live their lives. “Always,” I vow. It was true before I died, and now we are bound in a way that no one can undo.
