Each part a key. A failsafe to prevent the total destruction of worlds.
And it worked—the worlds had not been reset, and Atheia’screations had been kept alive, her magic preserved.
But then this Clover person—thisTidethief—had imbibed that magic. He had stolen the previous incarnations of Atheia, gorging himself on the power of their bearers to make himself into this monstrous imitation of divinity. He had chased away the gods from their godsworld, had taken every last drop of the fountain for himself, and reduced the divine garden into a wasteland. So many lives slain for nothing, because now that stolen power was festering inside him, and he needed more.
The realms would fall to ruin because of him. At least Atheia could take comfort in the fact that he had failed at imbibing her own divine power, and Sidraeus’s, to make himself into a proper god. But she knew he would stop at nothing to try again. And if he succeeded, he would destroy all of Atheia’s magic to rebuild the worlds in his image. InSidraeus’simage.
The reign of the eclipse.
Atheia would have liked Clover to destroy Sidraeus in that damned fountain. Would have liked to do it herself, so she could be rid of the thorn in her side that was her former lover. And perhaps his destruction would have brought about the destruction of his creations.
A creator cannot die if their creations survive.
No. It wouldn’t be so easy. But she could damn well try.
The waves grew stronger around her. The tide was coming in at frightening speed. Atheia pushed up to her feet, shivering from the cold in her sopping clothes. There was a wrongness to the sea, a dark hunger that frightened her.
I cannot let this world fall,Atheia thought pleadingly to Romie’s sliver of consciousness.If the price of saving it is culling Eclipse magic from it, then I’m sorry, but I have to see it done. Please understand.
A thrum of empathy met her words. Still hesitant, there was nodoubt about it, but it was perhaps the best Atheia could hope for. She could feel Romie’s anger and disappointment at her Tidethief friend, feel her rage against the Tidethief god, two sides tugging on the rope of her grief. Atheia could use those feelings to further sour her against the Eclipse-born.
I don’t want your person to be erased by my presence in your body,Atheia told Romie, meaning every word.I want us to do this as one. Take my hand and let me pull you up from the depths your consciousness went to. Let us share this body and face this darkness together.
She felt Romie’s consciousness reach out to the metaphorical hand she extended, and Atheia pulled her up. Atheia had experience being split into multiple identities, so it wasn’t all that unfamiliar to share consciousness with Romie now. And they were so alike, she didn’t mind it at all.
“Welcome back, daughter of Quies,” Atheia murmured, the words swallowed by the tide.
Let’s save this world,Romie replied with resolve.Together.
16BAZ
BAZ WASN’T SURE HOW LONGhe waited in the Reaper section of the Decrescens library. Students came and went, and he remained, invisible, a ghost watching the living go by. Until one of those students sat across from him and looked directly at him, smiling.
“You got my message.”
Baz looked him over, wondering how he could have mistaken him for Clover before. There was the House Waning Moon sigil tattoo, for one thing. Plus, the boy’s hair wasn’t quite as pale or as long as Clover’s; his eyes were a deep blue, not the ghostly turquoise that haunted Baz’s every thought. And where Clover’s features were delicate and finely chiseled, like a god sculpted out of marble, this boy’s were sharper, like they were hewn from stone. Strong jaw. Strong nose. Rugged good looks. Younger than Clover, yet timeless, somehow. And his clothes…
Slacks and a sweater that were too modern for these times.And around his neck, hanging from a chain, was a pocket watch identical to the one in Baz’s own pocket.
“You’re him, aren’t you?” Baz blurted out. “The god of balance’s apprentice. The one that came before me.”
The boy gave himself a half-hearted flourish. “In the flesh.”
Baz frowned, remembering how the god had made it seem like his apprentice had died. “But if you came before me… how am I seeing you now?”
“Haven’t you learned by now that time isn’t linear?” He tapped the pocket watch around his neck. “Working for the god means existing out of time, being able to travel between moments at will.” He shrugged. “So two time travelers meeting in a time that holds significance for us both? Sounds pretty normal to me.”
“What significance does this hold for you?”
“From the looks of it, I’ve been at this far longer than you have,” the boy said, ignoring Baz’s question. “Being fate’s overseer… that’s my job. I’m here to ensure everything happens as it should.”
“That’s why you’ve been destroying my notes to Kai,” Baz said accusingly. “You don’t want me to change the outcome.”
At Kai’s name, the boy’s face dropped. “That’s not…” He looked guilty. Torn. “I’m mostly here for Thames.”
“Thames?”
A nod. “The way he dies is important. And you trying to mess with that could make everything worse.”
