Page 64 of Death of the Glass Angel (Apotheosis #1)

Gemellus

Seven years ago. . .

Gemellus could scarcely remember a time when he could see. An evoker’s mind blessed him with the ability to remember everything from those days—painted in color against the black backdrop of his world.

Water churned below as rain pattered against the lake. A breeze stirred the banners hanging from the tower, and hasty footsteps and whispers carried the students down the corridor behind him.

Reaching into his bag, he pulled out the letter Alfaris had sent, running his fingers over the cracked parchment.

Alfaris never wrote. Though he looked like an old man now, Gemellus could only recall the child he’d been so long ago.

And that child, sweet as he could be, had done terrible things without a hint of remorse. This letter did not herald anything good.

“What’s that?” The high-pitched voice of a young boy asked.

Eros had a unique gait; he walked too quickly, tripped, hobbled for a moment, and then stepped carefully before the cycle repeated. Gemellus could hear him coming a mile away.

“None of your business,” Gemellus answered, rolling the letter up and tucking it away.

“Hm. Okay.” Eros stood beside Gemellus, leaning over the banister to look at the lake.

Nervous he’d fall, Gemellus grabbed his robes and pulled him back. “Let me guess. Janus tired of you and sent you away?”

“You really do know everything.”

Sighing, Gemellus rubbed his eyes. “I suppose I should entertain you. Gods know you shouldn’t be left to wander alone.” Turning from the lake, Gemellus beckoned for the kid to follow.

“Great!” Eros didn’t realize Gemellus had left until he was at the tower doors. Tripping over himself, he hurried to catch up. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Holding the door open, Gemellus listened to the kid step inside. “What?”

“Have you heard of Gozt?”

“Everyone who has read a book has heard of Gozt.” He breathed out a laugh. “I should have known Janus would be enraptured by that old myth.”

“It’s not a myth.” Eros protested. “It’s archaeology.”

“What a big word,” Gemellus teased. “Archaeology is the study of ruins. Real ruins. Of places that existed. Not fantasizing about a mythical city that does not.”

“Well, whatever. I’m going to find it with her.”

A fire roared in the lounge. Quiet chatter from students gathered on the couches drifted over the crackling flames. Pausing mid-stride, Gemellus turned his head towards the mantle.

Fire. . .

Guilt tugged at Gemellus’ heart. Many would call him a villain, and perhaps they would be right. But he would not stray from his path.

“Eros,” Gemellus called. “Say today was your final day. What would you do?”

“Final day?” Eros’ wrinkled brow was audible. “I’m a half-cefra. I’ll live to be. . . like a hundred-something.”

“I know, Eros. It’s hypothetical.”

“Well, in that case.” Eros trailed off, thinking. “Do you know that stuff the lady back home sells? The frozen cream? I’d get that.”

“You’d. . . “Gemellus laughed warmly. “You’d just want ice cream?”

“Mhm!”

“For a spoiled brat, you’re surprisingly simple.” Gemellus placed a hand on his hip, then nodded. “Dragos is joyless, but someone might sell some. Come with me.”

“Are we going now?” Eros hesitated before following.

Dancing down the spiral steps, Gemellus led Eros through the back courtyard, hoping to avoid the swell of people sure to be gathering in the great hall.

“What about you?” Eros asked, trotting alongside him.

“What about me?”

“Say it was your final day. What would you do?”

“What would I do?” Gemellus paused and considered the question.

Once upon a time, his answer would have been simple, but distance had grown between him and the woman he loved. She had always shone brighter- always deserved better.

Perhaps she’d finally realized as much. But it didn’t change his answer.

Gemellus turned back to Eros. “I’d want to see the person I loved most—one last time.”

“Who’s that? Your wife?’

“I was never married,” Gemellus said. “No, I’d want more than that. I’d want to spend one last day with them, pretending we had a thousand left.”

Eros fell silent. Perhaps something so grave was beyond a child’s understanding.

“I guess that’s better than ice cream.” Eros finally said. “Can I change my answer? I’d want to spend the day with Janus.”

Gemellus chuckled. “I’m going to tell her you said that.”

“That’s okay. It’d probably cheer her up.”

Not a hint of malice existed in this child. Entia would have loved him.

“So you want to find Gozt, a city that doesn’t exist. . .” Gemellus mused to himself as he followed the path around the tower. He halted abruptly, spinning around. “Do you want to see something cool?’

“Yeah.” Eros agreed eagerly.

“Promise not to tell Janus?”

“Keeping it secret from Janus just makes it better.”

Gemellus grinned. “Watch this.” He snapped his finger.

Only through illusions did Gemellus’s sight return. Great lights filled the darkness—the place where the lake should be colored in, clear waters manifesting where only darkness had previously been.

Floating islands hung far above his head, with towering metal spires rising from their peaks.

Water surged from the lake, flooding the courtyard and flowers with eerie, still water.

Edifices spiraled into the sky, brilliantly bronze, gleaming beneath a hidden sun—and at their center, a winged tower ascended the heavens, its face carved with an unmoving clock.

Tiny orbs of white light drifted like snow from on high, and Eros caught one in his hand.

“How. . .” He looked up at the perfectly blue sky. “How did you do that?”

“Magic,” Gemellus smirked.

The kid stumbled into Gemellus’ back, awed by the sight. Steadying him, Gemellus ruffled his hair.

Eros didn’t deserve to die. None of this was his fault. But he would bear the burden, the punishment.

Gemellus closed his eyes. Oh, Entia. . .

Laughing, Eros pointed at something and spoke. But Gemellus didn’t hear him. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out his pocket watch and flipped it open and closed.

Click. Click.