Her wide eyes spun from me to take in my Mist Guard flanking me—Alastair and Fenella stood on one side, while Toryn and Niamh stood on the other. She pressed her lips together. “Oberon is dead. They’re both dead. The last order he gave me was to send you that fake message. It was meant to lure you to the mountains. To be honest, I’m surprised it worked. I thought you would have realized it was nothing but a trap.”
It took a moment for her words to sink in. Oberon…dead? My mother—also dead. My eyes burned. I’d lost her once and had only just discovered she’d survived all these years that I’d been searching for answers and vengeance for her death. A part of me had harbored a secret hope, one I hadn’t dared speak aloud.
I’d wanted to see her again, no matter what she’d done.
From beside me, Alastair barked out a laugh. “You really expect us to believe that?”
“What a coward,” Niamh sneered, raising her voice so that it echoed through the quiet streets. “You’re too scared to face us, aren’t you, Oberon? Stop pretending and come out from the shadows.”
“This is no trick,” Morgan said flatly. “The king is dead. Here, I’ll prove it. He ordered me never to speak your name aloud, and yet I can say it now: Kalen Denare.”
Fenella inched forward, her twin daggers raised. “He could have revoked that order so you could convince us he’s dead.”
Morgan cocked her head, as if considering Fenella. There was something odd about the movement, something I couldn’t quiet place. It was that feeling of hidden power again. An eerie sensation tickled the back of my neck. Had she been lying to me all these years about being a common fae? It wouldn’t surprise me.
Nothingabout Morgan would surprise me anymore.
“If Oberon is dead, then who killed him?” Niamh asked, her brow arched. “You?”
A smile tugged at the corners of Morgan’s lips. “Oh, no. I never could have harmed a hair on Oberon’s head. You want to know who killed him? Think of the one person who wants him dead more than anyone else. Tessa Baran.”
My sword dropped, and the end punched the ash. “Tessa?” A painful tightening in my throat made the next words difficult to speak. “Where the fuck is she, Morgan? What have you done with her?”
“She fled. Fromyou, I imagine.” Morgan’s eyes flashed with a cunning cruelty. “Did you not realize what happened when you saw the comet streaking through the skies? Tessa Baran has brought back the gods. And if I recall correctly, that means you have to kill her now.”
Two
Tessa
I’d dreamed of a better world for as long as I could remember. As an escape from the cruelty of the fae, I’d read my books, over and over again, about mortal girls just like me who rode off on adventures, learned to fight back, and won. I had imagined myself as one of those girls, victoriously saving Teine from the oppressive king on the hill.
But I was not like those girls at all. I was the descendent of a monstrous god, and I had a darkness inside me that threatened to turn me into everything I hated and feared. And I’d done the unthinkable. I’d released Andromeda from her prison.
Instead of saving the world, I had damned it.
With my bare toes digging into the sandy beach, I tipped back my head to gaze up at the bright comet. I’d been standing here for hours, my mind spiraling through every wrong choice I’d ever made in my life, my worst memories replaying all my horrors. Father throwing me into the mists. Oberon cutting into my skin. And me…piercing Kalen with the Mortal Blade.
My shoulders bowed beneath the weight of it all.
I didn’t cry, though a part of me wished I could. My soul was too raw to do anything but give in to the numbness creeping through me.
At every step along the way, I’d only made things worse. All I’d wanted was to save my family—my people. I’d wanted to stop Oberon. It turned out stopping him was the worst thing I could have done. And so maybe he’d been right. Maybe I should be locked up and hidden away in the vault so that I couldn’t hurt anyone else ever again. Because now the gods were on their way, and they would destroy everything. Maybe I didn’t deserve to be here. Maybe this world would be better off if I wasn’t.
I sat hard on the beach, pulled my knees up to my chest, and stared into the mist until all my thoughts were drowned beneath the waves of my self-loathing.
* * *
Asoft, wet snout nudged my cheek. Startled, I jerked up my head to see Oberon’s horse staring down at me with his dark, unblinking eyes. I hadn’t noticed him approach. I hadn’t even registered he was still here with me. I reached up and placed a hand against his pale gray muzzle. He was probably hungry.
That realization was the only thing that could cut through the fog in my mind. Sighing, I stood.
“Let’s find you some food,” I said, even knowing he couldn’t understand me. Unlike Midnight, this creature was nothing more than a regular horse—at least, I assumed so. Joint eaters could not survive in the sun, and this horse had once belonged to Oberon, which meant he’d lived in Albyria. Still, I could have sworn his ears flicked in anticipation.
“What shall we call you?” I asked him as I led him over to the pack I’d dumped on the ground. When Oberon had taken me, he’d relieved me of my weapons, but he hadn’t taken my supplies: a canteen of water, a handful of dried meat, a heel of bread, and two apples, along with some rope and a bedroll. I passed the horse an apple and gave him a once-over.
He was a magnificent beast. Tall and powerful, he towered over me, a protective shield against the chilly breeze. His mane was the color of wheat, and he had a long tail that snapped at the air. I handed him another apple when he finished the first.
“I think you’d like my sister. She loves apples, too.”
