My face turned wintry. “Hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude to read people’s minds?”
She laughed, and flowers bloomed from the vines creeping over the walls. “There’s the River I’ve missed.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, so we go to Fei’s lair, and then she just…” My brows furrowed. “Appears?”
“She’ll receive the summoning. It’s kind of like those chimes when you walk into a mini-mart that lets the clerk know you’re there.” She twirled a rogue strand of hair around her finger. “Ooooh, can we hit one of those on the way back to Ískastali? They have the best hot dogs.”
“We?” I blinked.
She shot me a wry smile in return. “I’m coming with you. Obviously. But first we need to honor the monarchy. I know some of the queen’s methods were questionable?—”
“Unethical,” I amended.
“Sure, but it was all for the sake of her kingdom. You might know someone who did the same?” She tilted her head, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “Who sacrificed everything to protect the ones they love?”
My heart twisted.
“Regardless,” she went on, her wings ruffling behind her, “it’s tradition.”
I inhaled deeply.
I hadn’t even thought about going back to Hamarinn, about who and what I’d have to face. Had they removed Hildur’s body from the arena? Was the entire realm aware of what happened? Had Ryder kept his promise or had he massacred them all? Anxiety built in my chest, trapped and roiling like the steam in the jelmadag.
“But first,” she said, “that hot dog.”
My forehead crinkled. Here I was, shoulders heavy and caving, nearly crushed by the panic, and Gaia, the Angel of Earth—the literal epitome of strength and divinity and justice—was worried about… hot dogs.
“Lighten up, River.” Wings shaking off the thin layer of moisture that’d accumulated from the spray of the falls, she patted me on the back, then strutted towards the tunnel, her holy light dwindling as she walked further into the shadows. “We’ve got plenty of dark times ahead.”
“Don’t they feed you in Empyrea?” I called after her.
“No!” she cackled. “Angels don’t feel hunger. When I come here, my body shifts into a vessel that’s much more mortal. Now, if you don’t hurry up, I think I might faint of starvation, and then you’ll have to carry me to Hamarinn!”
Tripping over vines and loose boulders, I sprinted after her, and we made our way back through the passage, but this time, she wasn’t leading.
This time, we walked side by side.
We treaded through the labyrinth of darkness, over the bones, then finally past the altar, the candles now burning bright. It was empty, silent, not a sign of my doppelgänger.
As we neared the cave’s gaping mouth, a silhouette stood beneath the overhang, painted in the coral tint of sunset. It was her—me—facing the vale, the mess of her hair blowing softly in the wind.
I slowed. “What is she doing?”
Waiting, the angel answered, crossing over to the mirror version of me. Gaia gave her a warm smile, her cheeks full and rosy.
“For what?” I breathed.
For you to let her go.
On a tight inhale, I approached the twisted image of myself, the soles of my feet sliding over the skeletal remains.
Only when I was standing beside her, my arm brushing hers, did she turn to greet me. My breath slipped at that haunting black stare. Muscles trembling, I reached for her hand. It was stiff and cold as a corpse.
Her eyes darted to my grip. Hollow, uncertain, but then her fingers wrapped around mine.
Our heartbeats synced, slowed, as we stood there, taking each other in, faces tinged by the deepening orange and pink hues of the world.
Between one breath and the next, one spontaneous blink, she was gone, and I was holding nothing but air. A ragged exhale left my lips.
