“Not necessary,” the king replied. Something thunked behind us, pulsing. It felt like onyx.
“The humans are lying to you,” she hissed. “Just as Ovalis lied to me. Where are the Talaven rulers? Ask them the truth. They won’t be able to lie to you now, not without you knowing.”
“I already heard what happened to Ovalis. You murdered him.”
A pause. “It may seem that way, but—”
“You deny it?” He motioned again. This time, a human woman carried a bag forward. Aodhan took the burlap sack, turned it over, and dumped Ovalis’s head on the ground. Gasps and shocked cries peppered the air. Andromeda swallowed thickly. “Well? Are you saying you didn’t do this? If so, we have another enemy out there. One who needs to be cut down.”
She pressed her lips together. “This is my doing. But not for the reasons you believe. He has betrayed me, just as you have. I know you buried the gemstones. I know what it’s done to Aesir. You took my gift, and you rebuked it.”
“Yourgifthas destroyed my kingdom,” he said, his voice dripping with disgust.
Andromeda lifted her chin. “Very well. I can see our alliance is null and void. Just know you have made a grave mistake. If you try to kill me, you will fail. And I will treat you with the same contempt as you’ve treated me. The only difference is, you will not survive it. Those loyal to you will not survive it. And then the humans you are desperately trying to save will meet their end.” She shook her head and laughed. “I tried to save the fae. Look at how you have rewarded me.”
A heavy silence descended. The fae king stared at Andromeda for a good long while, measuring her words. The flicker of worry in his eyes spelled his thoughts. He did not trust her, but rejecting her meant risking the lives of his people. The humans had told him one thing. The gods were telling him another. And now the fate of the world sat in his hands. This one wrong choice could crush it.
He exhaled. “You came to me for an alliance and asked me to wage war against a man. Then you bedded that man, professed your love for him, and bore his child. You called off the war, vowed you wanted peace. And then you chopped off his head. I cannot trust you.”
“That is fair,” Andromeda said. “You see what is in front of you, and it’s clear I cannot change your mind. Do your worst to me, then, fae. I am sorry for what will come of you.”
The fae king pulled a glittering gemstone from his pocket. Dread pumped through Andromeda’s veins. She knew that stone, that color. It was from the stars. Faster than the blink of an eye, he popped the orange stone from his axe and replaced it with the sapphire.
He swung the axe at the ground. It cracked through dirt and stone.
Andromeda screamed.
Power erupted all around us, shuddering through the earth. Ice and snow fell into the ravine in a thunderous applause. The world was glad to be rid of this god.
I held on as best I could, but it was too much. The darkness crowded my vision. Deep black swallowed me whole. But even though I could not see, I could feel the truth of what happened to her—to me. Whatever the humans and fae had done, it had worked.
This body—mybody—was thrown to the stars. Andromeda did not come with me, somehow. The fae had taken their axe to her essence, and they kept her trapped in two separate onyx gemstones. For thousands of years I knew peace. I floated through the aether, my soul healing from all I’d lost.
At long last, I was just me, and I became one of the stars. Sometimes, I even whispered to those below, though I did not think they ever heard me.
Not until Tessa Baran came along. My daughter. Or at least the closest thing I’d ever had to one, a descendent of the child Andromeda had birthed through me all those centuries before. I watched her as she grew, hating how she suffered, wishing I could reach out a hand to help. But when she began to conquer her powers, I started to hope.
And then Bellicent Denare called me back. I was Andromeda’s vessel. She demanded my return. A comet swept by me, ripping me from the stars. It dragged me down. Down and down to the world I thought I’d escaped.
To my daughter.
And so Andromeda’s possession of me began once more.
But my time in the stars had strengthened me. I stayed aware, never falling into darkness. I cheered on my daughter when she fought, and I mourned when she died. And then I decided I was not yet done with this world. There was one thing I had to do.
Forty-Four
Tessa
PRESENT DAY
Ishook off the rain when I stepped through the doorway. Gaven perched on the bottom step of the Tower of Crones, wearily hanging his head in his hands. When he heard my footsteps, he looked up.
“They said you would come,” he said.
A shiver sliced down my spine. “That’s unnerving.”
“Where’s Kalen?” he asked. “I assumed he’d join you.”
