Page 16 of Evermore

“Care to tellme why you have sand in your hair, Boss?” Tuck asked, leaning against the wall of the clock tower as I strode out of Vesalia’s temple.

“Not particularly,” I answered, jutting my chin forward so he would fall into step with me. “I need every update. And quickly.”

“I’ve been with Salt up at the castle. The old king’s got them doing rotations along the northern border with some of his old guards to get them trained. He’s giving them a decent wage and sent provisions to Noctus House for the orphans. No one has seen Archer, Jasper, or your bride since Farris died.”

“Jasper’s no longer going to be a concern of ours. Who do they think killed the little prick?”

Tuck halted, his voice falling. “He was killed in the back of a whorehouse. They claim his lover shoved a dagger in his chest.

His lover?

Why the fuck would they assume it was his lover? They’d have to have evidence to make that assumption. Had Paesha tricked him into bed? Had she wrapped those fucking thighs around him before she buried the dagger? Shelethim touch her? I needed to find something to throw. To break. Or find a way to bring that asshole back to life so I could kill him all over again.

“I’m assuming you’re going after the Huntress, but I’m not sure that’s wise.”

“Did I ask for your opinion?”

“She has no fucking clue who she was dealing with in Stirling, I can promise you that.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Ezra never showed himself to her until she broke the damn veil. He was hiding as he always does.”

Tuck paused. “Right, but she doesn’t know that. Wait, how’d you know he was there when the veil broke?”

A trace of Vesalia’s pulse beneath my fist stroked my memory. “You’re not the only persuasive fucker around here.”

“Nice to see you got your mood under control while you were away.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, dick.”

He chuckled, scratching his dark brown beard. “Good thing I’m not trying to impress anyone.”

“What happened to the Cimmerians? Any word on that front?” I started walking again, and Tuck did the same.

“Far as we can tell, they’re free. A couple of the Fray went hunting last night. They were looking for Archer and Jasper, but ran into Burke and Toggs instead. The masks and robes they always wore? Gone. It was like they’d shed their Cimmerian skins entirely. They wore regular clothes, simple tunics, and trousers. You could still see the mark on their arm, but they were themselves. They seemed normal. The guys came and found me at the castle to report it. But I’d assumed that would happen when Farris died. The bond simply broke. Problem solved.”

“All right. I’ve got shit to do. Keep an eye out for Archer. If you find anything, you know how to get ahold of me.”

“You going to do something stupid?”

“Probably.”

“Maybe I should come.”

“I need you here for now. Keep an eye on the king, make sure the fucking Cimmerians don’t do anything strange. We need to know if they’re bound to Themis at all, and for gods’ sake, man, take an hour or two off.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” he called out as I walked away, headed straight for Perth.

I knew where my brother would be without even trying, but I wasn’t expecting what I found in Requiem. The streets were gold, the buildings marble, and in the midday sun I had to shield my eyes from the glare. It looked exactly like Etherium. Which only meant one thing. Fucking Aeris had been here. Which was never a good sign.

I’d been prepared for the rot and neglect of my temple here. Even with everything in the twin cities restored, I expected my place to be falling to ash. A half-hung door, cobwebs, maybe even full collapse. But instead, the temple was in way better shape than I’d expected. The marble pillars out front stood tall and clean, no cracks, no grime, nothing. Each one carved with twisting symbols, circles and vines, and they all gleamed like they’d been polished.

The double doors were wide open, because of course they fucking were. Ezarius likely left them that way on purpose. I stormed inside. The air tasted like it did before a storm. Fitting. The hall held ornate mirrors, catching the glow from floating balls of light that drifted lazily back and forth overhead. The black and white tiles on the floor seemed to move in the flickering light, twisting patterns that made my eyes ache if I stared too long. An annoying little gift from Aeris, no doubt. Renewal my ass.

The walls on either side of the hall were covered with shelves crammed with scrolls and thick, heavy books, each stamped with my mark. Some of history, some records I allowed to be public, a list of gods and their tiers likely buried somewhere within. Inthe middle of it all, hanging from a thin chain, was an hourglass, huge and shining. The sand inside wasn’t normal; it shimmered, shifting colors as it fell. Gold, white, black, a mirage of time itself, stuck in that damn glass cage. Vesalia’s most coveted desire. She thought one day it would be hers, back when she hoped we’d be lovers. She was the Goddess of Time, but I was the creator of it. With my brother, of course. But none of these things were real. They were replicas from home. Etherium. A place I only wanted to go back to when this fucking mess was over.

But what really hit me were the statues.

They were everywhere, tucked between columns and half-hidden in the shadows. Each one was a perfect carving of Paesha and me. Every damn life we’d lived together, carved into cold stone. Every time she’d been hunted. In one, she was holding my face, the look in her eyes like she’d saved my life. In another, I was cradling her, red paint showed the blood soaking the front of my shirt. There was one where we stood back-to-back, swords raised against some unseen threat. But the threat had always been there. In every life of hers. It’d always been me and Ezra.