Chapter Twenty-Four
The apartment was so quiet.
Silas had made his bed once more that morning, whichfelt so final.
I could only distract myself with the mortal perils of the internet.
My hours of researching Apep—Apopis, Apepi, Apophis—had grown to a close, leaving me staring at a blinking cursor in the search bar.
He was the serpent god destined to devour the sun at the end of eternity.
He was the devil of the other world.
He was the demon of chaos, the foe of the sun god, Ra, and the representation of everything outside of the ordered cosmos.
And by every single account, he was completely evil.
I stared as the cursor blinked, and blinked, and blinked.
Silas brought me a warm mug, which only hurt me, though I couldn’t explain why.
He’d made coffee and stirred honey into mine without me having to ask.
“Have you learned anything new about Apep?” I asked him, warming my hands with the mug.
“That he’s no joke, Marlow. Don’t go after him. Don’t talk to him. Do not engage.”
“Thanks,” I muttered.
“My new title as independent liaison for masculine spirits compels me to tell you that you will be murdered if you link up with Apep. Please don’t go.”
I knew he’d used the new title to make light of the day’s events, but I couldn’t find humor in it. He was leaving, and I was the reason he had no kingdom, no realm, nowhere to go.
I’d let him fall, and I wasn’t even a net.
He ruffled my hair as if reading the trajectory of my miserable thoughts; then, we began to tackle strategy, however gingerly.
We went over the string of instructions for Silas’s new role that O had sent in the night. He wrapped warm arms around me, and I rested my head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as we stood in the living room.
We conferred about the wards and their strength. Mine, it seemed, only allowed for four immortal beings to come and go freely. With that, he said his presence was only a hindrance for my next steps. Our parting words hurt.
“I don’t want you to go,” I said.
“You don’t want me to stay, either.”
And my silence was answer enough.
He brushed a thumb against my jaw, tipping my chin upward as he looked into my face. “I’ll use whatever’s left of my grace to cast an extra shield—not around your apartment, but around you. I trust your Prince’s wards, but I’m not about to leave your safety to chance. Not when we’ve fought to get this far.”
“You could have been shielding me directly this whole time?” I joked weakly.
He breathed out one low chuckle. “No. I can only shield one thing at a time. Giving it to you leaves me vulnerable. It’s all been stripped away from me, Marlow. You’re the only thing left to lose.”
He read the question from the pained expression in my eyes. He was telling me that, by shielding me, he could be killed.
“Don’t argue,” he said. “I wouldn’t listen, anyway.”
He ensured I had the poppet before brushing a kiss against the top of my head. And when he stepped out of the hug, it was into nothingness. It was on this living room floor that he’d first entered my life, and it was in this same room that he left me.
