Page 104

He grins.

Then takes my hand.

“Come. I have something else to show you.”

He leads me down Saint Street toward the abandoned chapel where we first met.

Except the courtyard isn’t abandoned anymore.

The rusted gates have been restored. Climbing roses cover the old brick walls, and flowering vines spill from newly repaired stone planters.

A beautiful little fountain stands in the center, surrounded by white roses and pink peonies.

And behind it rises a familiar figure.

A towering statue of polished black obsidian, streaked with veins of dark magenta and crimson.

Vidar.

Exactly as he appeared the night I stumbled into this courtyard, frightened and bleeding, and accidentally awakened a god.

I stop walking.

“Oh, Vidar.”

He watches me carefully.

“I had the statue restored.”

I approach the fountain, running my fingers along the smooth marble.

“The courtyard was once a place of suffering,” he says quietly. “I wanted it to become something beautiful.”

I look around.

The broken stones have been repaired. The fountain trickles softly beneath the afternoon sun. Roses bloom where weeds once grew.

The place where I was terrified.

Where I was bleeding.

Where I thought my life was falling apart.

Now it feels like a sanctuary.

I notice an inscription carved into the marble beneath the fountain.

She Gave Me Life

I Gave Her My Heart

My eyes fill instantly.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

Vidar stiffens.

“Have I displeased you?”