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We sensed all the animals killed in the Flash resurrecting. None of them had blank eyes like Lark’s first sparrow; these teemed with life. Birds made their songs. Insects chirped. Her wolves peered around in bafflement.

Circe’s expression was just as excited as Lark’s. “Whale song lifts my heart!”

We all heard it. The gods’ magic was strong, but together, ours was stronger.

“Ay, I feel dizzy hope,” Sol said. “I feel the sea and the creatures. A child is eating berries with glee. My dream to feed people is happening!” His skin grew brighter with an ethereal glow, until an orb of light emerged from his chest. It flew outward into the world faster than a solar wind. He blinked. “That was the light I used to help the Bagmen rest.”

Another scene played out in our minds: Hundreds of miles away, a group of teenagers ate from our bounty, but Baggers leapt from the snow to surround them. No way out. Judging by the looks on their faces, the kids knew this was the end.

Yet Sol’s orb of light appeared like a comet in the sky. When it flickered above, the zombies collapsed, disappearing to dust.

Disbelief from the kids. Then cheers rang out as empty Bagger clothes blew in the breeze.

“Madre de Dios,” Sol said. “The light is letting them rest. The Bagmen are at peace now.” His orb continued to zoom across the sky, would be a beacon all over the globe before it ended.

I wished Aric could have experienced the awe we shared. But for a time, I buried my grief and just experienced this awakening for what it was.

Miraculous.

The scent of the shore. Vivid wings. The play of new animals. Trees reaching upward, roots digging deep into the now fertile soil. The whale song.

Vertigo hit as we began spinning faster and faster.

To our end?

Without a word spoken, we knew the gods’ deal had been repeated. Would we take it?

Matthew had said he’d foreseen a sacrifice. Maybe we were the sacrifice.

I shared a look with the others. I would surrender my life, and I knew they would gladly as well. We would decide differently than we had so long ago.

Would we end the apocalypse and the game? I didn’t know. But we were ready to risk everything for possibly nothing.

I glanced at Aric’s ashes, then at Tee and Jack. I straightened my shoulders and eked out a reassuring smile. Tee, your mother’s going to die well.

Jack must have recognized that smile for what it was: good-bye. “Evie, non. You stay with me!” My vines pushed him back, keeping him safe as we spun and spun.

The wolves howled our eulogy.

Twirling . . . like I had with Quintessence . . . the carousel . . .

Sol said, “Something’s coming. The weather is changing.” The air around us grew warmer. How?

Suddenly another light dwarfed his.

Dawn. Tendrils of sunlight from above kissed our skin.

The spinning stopped. Once our feet met the ground, we blinked against the burgeoning sun. Had we ended the apocalypse?

My vines dropped from the others. Released from that mystical bond, we all staggered.

I reached for Tee. Jack, looking stunned, handed him to me, then hovered protectively beside us. Exhaustion overwhelmed me as I mindlessly rocked my baby.

Lark frowned. “We’re still here.”

Circe pointed at my hand, covered in icons. “The game plays on.”

Remember, Aric had once told me, this game will try to make you insane.

I pressed my face against Jack’s chest and sobbed under the light of a new dawn.

44

The Empress

Day 7 N.D.

“We have something we need to discuss with you,” Circe told me. She’d called a meeting this morning in the kitchen.

Jack, with Tee in his arms, Lark, Sol, and Circe all sat at the table with me—a New Dawn boardroom scene. We’d decided to rename the times, to look to the future.

That first sunset after the battle, we’d all seemed to hold our breath until the next daybreak when the sun had returned once more, and the birds had sung dawn’s arrival. The snow had continued to melt. A light rain had fallen, then dissipated, as it would have pre-Flash.

“What is it?” I asked Circe. I’d figured an intervention was in the cards—because I’d nearly killed the Cards.

“You need to read Death’s letter to you.”

Oh. The letter. Lark must’ve overheard him mention it.

Everyone at the table faced me expectantly.

Did they worry that I’d break down from reading it and lose it for good? Not a chance! Though a part of me had died alongside Aric, I had recovered my tourniquet and tightened it once more—for Tee. “Okay,” I told Circe. “I can do that.” Under the table, I traced my fingers over Aric’s icon, one of the sixteen on my hands.

One day, some player would wear twenty-one of them. Though we’d ended the disaster, we hadn’t ended the game. Our sacrifice hadn’t been accepted.