Baz blanched at the words fromSong of the Drowned Gods. The scholar, the witch, the warrior, and the guardian hadbecomethe drowned gods, joining forces to face this darkness at the center of all things, just as the gods before them had done for centuries. A life for a life. The cycle starting anew. The sea of ash needed its keepers to guard the deadly beast within.
Blood and bones and heart and soul, combined to keep chaos and death from spilling across worlds.
His gaze snapped to Sidraeus, who was frowning at the fountain as if he were slowly putting the pieces together; then to his sister—Atheia’s vessel—whose brown eyes were open wide, her mouth agape, as she understood.
The god of balance confirmed Baz’s inkling when he said: “The only ones who can contain such chaos are the two beings who were made for such a thing. Sidraeus, the ferrier of souls, embodiment of sleep and death—and Atheia, who embodies life and healing.”
As above, so below.
There was no way to properly restore the realms, to undo the chaos spilling across them, so the two deities had to take it with them into the void, the dark beyond stars.
Jumping into the void would unmake them. But it would also unmake the chaos. Restore balance. Wipe clean the slate without actually obliterating the worlds and everyone in them, as the god was compelled to do.
“So,” the god said, clapping his hands together. “These are your options. You either fix this mess by taking the chaos out of hereand into the void, thus restoring balance… or the Tidecaller has to die so I can reset the clock, so to speak, and start everything anew.”
An impossible decision, here at the end of all things.
65ROMIE
THE HORROR ROMIE FELT WASmirrored on Emory’s face. Because no matter what they chose, at least one of them would die.
But Romie was not going to let it be Emory.
She felt Atheia’s consciousness raging inside her at this conclusion, screaming about the problem being Sidraeus and his creations, not her. She refused to see everything she’d worked for be for nothing, refused to suffer such an end. Even now, faced with the destruction of the worlds she so loved, Atheia was unwilling to admit defeat.
Romie understood Atheia’s anger and reluctance. She understood her refusal to die. And she understood, bleakly and all at once, that if Atheia were to die, then she would too.
Their fates were tied.
Once, Romie would have gladly embraced such a destiny. But now…
Now she wanted her own life, her own fate. To carve her ownpath. Because she had realized that the destiny she’d been chasing all this time hadn’t been hers at all, but Atheia’s. Always Atheia’s, this deity whose song Romie had followed until she was no longer herself but a vessel for someone else—whose song Aspen and Tol and Orfeyi had followed to their death.
They had lost everything because of their unwavering faith in Atheia, in this shared destiny of theirs. And after the fight Romie had put up to reclaim her body, to take control of her actions, she wanted to know what it would be like to keep going.
She wanted to earn the forgiveness her brother offered, wanted to set things right between her and Emory and all the people she had hurt under Atheia’s influence. She wanted to build a greenhouse and spend her days in it with Nisha. She wanted to travel and make connections of her own free will, not ones dictated by a deity. She wanted to let her feet wander aimlessly instead of marching on a path set by a god.
Romie desired nothing more than to live outside of this senseless quest she’d gone on. To find her own destiny outside of that one. To do somethingshelonged to do, not something her blood was predestined tomakeher want to do.
But she was done being selfish, too.
There would be no convincing Atheia to sacrifice herself. To carry this burden and follow this bleak path that would send her into the void. And though it made Romie sick to her stomach to decide such a thing for someone else, even someone as twisted as Atheia had become, she had to.
If she didn’t, then the universe would perish. Her friends would die. Her family, too. And Romie couldn’t have that.
What do you think?she asked Aspen and Tol and Orfeyi. Atheia’s opinion might not weigh on her decision, but theirs did. They were a part of her; and though they were dead, they deserved a say.
We’re with you,the three of them answered in unison.Every step of the way into the dark, we’ll be with you.
It was all the confirmation Romie needed.
“I’ll do it,” she said aloud, though her voice was so soft no one seemed to hear. Louder, she repeated, “I’ll do it.”
Everyone turned to her, wide-eyed. She didn’t blame them for their shocked looks; the decision was just as shocking to her, or rather the steadiness of her voice, the certainty in her blood, was what surprised her.
Atheia was pleading now,begging. But it didn’t matter what Atheia wanted anymore. Romie stood resolute, unwilling to let Atheia be a driving force in her decisions. Because this washerchoice, one she was making of her own volition, even if it went against all her broken dreams, because she was resolved to do what was right. To follow her damned destiny one last time, straight into the void if she must, if it meant those she loved would live.
At least this time, it was a destinyshewas choosing.
