He growls, tugging against my shadows.
“This crusade of yours, this endeavor to raise the old gods—it was doomed from the beginning,” I tell him. “The world changed, yes, and so have we. Manannan’s control over water and storms is impressive, but it’s nothing like the power he used to wield. And I am…something else. Something new.”
“You’re a mistake,” he snarls.
“Face me, man to man, and tell me that,” I reply.
For a moment, the dog’s lips only pull back farther, exposing jagged yellow teeth and purple gums. Then, with a whirl of smoke, the creature transforms, and there he is. Lloyd-Henry Woodson, as he called himself during the time we spent traveling and residing together. What his true name is, I may never know.
My shadow rope has slipped away, and when I cast it again, heraises his hand to the level of his eyes so that when the lasso drops, it tightens around both his neck and his hand. Wrapping his fingers around the rope, he pushes outward, easing the pressure of the noose, loosening it until he can toss it away.
I don’t attempt to recapture him.
“Ever since you resurrected me, I have struggled with my old memories,” I say. “But I can recall millions of new things. I have accumulated knowledge, experienced music, and composed my own songs. I have delighted in the talents of others, particularly Christine—a vampire, as it happens, like those who defeated me at Wicklow. I became obsessed with her, but my obsession changed as well. I have grown to love two precious souls with all my heart.”
I step closer while he eyes me warily.
“I have made mistakes,” I continue. “I will make more, and I will keep learning from them. But I was meant to be here, just as I was meant to meet Christine and Raoul. I firmly believe that Fate, wherever she is, has blessed me with this existence. So tell me again. Tell me I’m a mistake. Tell me I’m useless, worthless, and a failure.”
He backs away as I advance. I’m smiling, flooded with a confidence and triumph I’ve never felt before.
It feels like I have won a battle I never acknowledged I was fighting—a war within myself.
“I do not need to be a god or even the shadow of one,” I tell him. “I can let every part of that existence go, release my past, and fully embrace my new role in this world. If only you could see how freeing it is—how beautiful life can be when you are at home within yourself. I swear, it’s better than magic.”
“You don’t understand,” Lloyd-Henry seethes. “This is my great plan. All the pieces—I’ve been setting them up for decades, for centuries.”
“So you said.”
“I want to conquer death. Rule the world. Be worshipped as the savior of humanity.”
“Modest goals, to be sure,” I say dryly. “Wouldn’t you be happier if you released yourself from the pressure of such cosmic ambition?”
“I can’t. All that work—all the lives I destroyed along the way—to abandon it all?” His voice shrills. “To say my life’s work was useless, no longer worth pursuing—it’s unthinkable!”
“I have done terrible things, too,” I say. “I fully acknowledge that part of myself, and if I need to do terrible things again to protect those I love, I will. But peace will come when you accept the past rather than excusing it. It should not be the guide for your future.”
“You’re a fucking imbecile, and you talk like my therapist,” he snarls. His naked body shudders, and I notice lumps writhing beneath his skin, as if his flesh is corrupted by worms. He bends over, a groan bursting from him as a stronger spasm racks his frame.
“What is happening to you?” I ask.
He looks up, features contorted with pain. “I tried to cheat death one too many times. But it won’t get me, I swear. I will defeat it. Someday, there will be no more death, and I will be the one who ushers in that utopian world.”
“From what I’ve read of human fiction and philosophy, attempts at a utopian world rarely meet one’s expectations,” I reply.
“Death is the great enemy,” he rasps. “The only one worth fighting.”
Abruptly, I realize that the waves have ceased and that Manannan has drawn closer to us. He has been listening to our conversation.
“I ruled over death once,” I say quietly. “I came to realize there are worse things. Confinement. Loss of choices. Imprisonmentwithin a cage of twisted ideals. The belief that your own existence is the most important thing in the world.”
“Then you no longer fear death?” Lloyd-Henry scoffs. “If it came for you, you would succumb without resisting?”
“I fear the end of possibilities, of choices. I will strive to remain in this world as long as I can to be with those I adore and to contribute something beautiful. Yes, I fear the end. It is only natural…only human. But I will not let the terror of death control me or steal the joy from the experience of living.”
Manannan’s deep voice speaks on my left. “Joy? How can there be joy when the one you crave is beyond your reach?” He glares at Lloyd-Henry. “You promised you would raise the Morrigan for me.”
“And I looked for her,” Lloyd-Henry gasps, grimacing through another spasm. “She has no grave, no prison. There is no physical trace of her to be found. She was never bound like the rest of you.”
