Page 37 of Evermore (The Never Sky #3)
Thorne
I slammed another useless fucking book onto the growing pile beside my desk.
Centuries of knowledge, and not one mention of breaking a god’s binding without killing the mortal.
The lamp’s flame guttered as my power lashed out, responding to my frustration.
Golden threads of memory magic stretched between my fingers as I wove them into yet another pattern, searching for a path I hadn’t tried.
But the second I thought maybe there was a new trail to follow within the tendrils, my fucking power sputtered out.
Again. I waited. Minutes went by before it returned.
The Parlor’s walls had disappeared beneath my work, charts mapping every bargain ever struck with Alastor, diagrams showing the complex web of oaths that bound gods to their domains.
Books upon books of the fragility of the mortal mind and how deep her suffering might’ve been.
Red ink marked dead ends, black marked possibilities, and gold…
gold marked the paths that had killed her in other lives. There were too many of those.
“You’ll burn out if you keep pushing like this,” Tuck said from the doorway.
I didn’t look up from the complex knot of power I was untangling. “Then I’ll burn.”
The magic responded to my touch, ancient and familiar. This was what I was, the Keeper of Memories, the one who wrote the stories of gods and mortals alike into the fabric of reality. But for all my power, I couldn’t find the one thread that would unravel Alastor’s claim on her.
“Have you slept?” Tuck asked, moving closer to study my latest attempt.
“Sleep is for lesser beings.” I traced a line of text that spiraled up one wall, ancient words glowing with power. “Look at this. Three centuries ago, a mortal broke free of Vesalia’s binding by—” I stopped, jaw clenching. “Never mind. She died two days later.”
“Thorne.”
“Don’t.” I pushed more power into the weave, watching golden threads spiral out to connect seemingly unrelated events. “Every bargain has a loophole. Every binding has a weakness. I have to find it before?—”
The magic snapped, recoiling like a whip. I caught a glimpse of Paesha through the dissolving threads, blood on stone, shadows writhing, her voice raw from screaming at ghosts only she could see. Then it was gone, leaving only the bitter taste of failure in my mouth.
I’d paid whatever cost to find her in every life.
I’d rewritten the rules of gods and mortals to keep her breathing.
But I couldn’t reach her now, when she needed me most. With deliberate care, I pulled the Chrysalis from my pocket.
Even in the dim lamplight, shadows swirled beneath its dark surface, promising answers if I looked deep enough.
But I was starting to suspect those answers were as false as Alastor’s promises.
“There’s still time,” Tuck said quietly.
“No. Time is the one thing we’re running out of.
I traced the memory of this ball, something Alastor probably thought I’d be too distracted to do.
It’s a false Chrysalis. Just a godsdamn glimpse of her and nothing else.
He wants me to believe she’s spiraling more than she is, but it’s tied to possibility, from what I’ve gathered.
Which means this could be her soon. And I’m completely fucking stuck. ”
I pulled the Chrysalis closer, watching as she dragged her bloodied fingernails across the stone floor. Even in madness, she was breathtaking, a storm given mortal form.
“You’re going to crack that thing if you keep staring at it so intensely. It’s been days.”
I didn’t look up as he walked into my office. I knew what I’d see there. The disappointment.
“I’m not allowed to interfere on either account. What else can I do but work?”
“Shall I define obsession?”
“Did you come looking for a fight?”
He stepped farther into the room. “I need you to focus. There are other matters that’ll affect your Huntress. Minnie says the king is dying on the inside, which means his body will follow shortly after.”
That got my attention. “Mortals don’t simply die without cause.”
“They do when their hearts break. He lost a son. Asshole or not, he had faith in him. He lost a daughter he never knew was his, and now his only living son refuses to be in the same space as him.” Tuck’s voice carried an edge of accusation. “The physicians say he hasn’t left his bed in days.”
“A little depression. He’ll be fine.”
“We need to get Archer?—”
I waved my hand dismissively. “Archer’s tantrum isn’t my concern. Paesha?—”
“Is exactly why you should care about Archer. She cares for him. You know this. And if the king dies with this rift between them, Archer will never forgive himself. And this kingdom will fall to war. It’s guaranteed.
Why do you think Bellatora and Minerva are both here?
Our old friend is trying to prevent what Bella’s trying to build. ”
“Set that to the side for a second and rationalize something out with me.” I rose, crossing over to the cabinet full of liquor.
“Let’s maybe not start drinking at…” he looked at his watch. “Actually, never mind. Make mine a double. What are we figuring out?”
“Why does she have Remnants?”
His broad shoulders slumped as he scratched his beard. “One could argue, she’s always had them and never had enough power to use them. When she killed Farris, and stole the power, it fed the well, waking the depth of power.”
“That’s what I assumed as well. But, here’s the odd part,” I handed him the glass. “She told me the Remnants have voices of her past lives. How is that possible? Do Alastor’s Remnants speak to him?”
“It’s possible. Paesha is a soul descendant of two gods. She’s the Huntress thanks to Irri, but the Remnants have always been shards of lost things. It stands to reason, and don’t you ever tell Minnie I said that, that Paesha’s power latched onto the first lost thing it could find. Her soul.”
“How do we shut them down? Take her power? She’s losing her damn mind.”
“Can’t do that or she dies.”
“Wrong,” I said, swirling my glass. “Alastor is holding Irri’s power. Some here call him the God of Lost and Broken Things, when we know him to only reign over the Lost.”
“Have you ever seen him use Irri’s power?
Think about it. If we draw power from human adoration, he’s making sure the humans don’t forget about her, by spreading her title around.
She’s being fed power by mention alone. It’s quite smart, actually, regardless of where she is.
It’s the only thing he can do to soothe that missing connection to his Ever, I’m sure. ”
“He’s feeding her power,” I repeated, realizing I’d never considered that.
Tuck set his glass down with deliberate care. “Speaking of lost things that need finding… Archer.”
“I’ll handle it.” I drained my glass. “He’s stubborn, not stupid. He’ll see his father.”
“You sound awfully confident for someone who’s been staring into a crystal ball all day.”
I shot him a dark look. “Don’t remind me.”
We left the Parlor to find Minerva waiting by the carriage, leaning on her cane with an expression that suggested we’d kept her waiting for approximately three eternities.
“I trust you boys finished solving all the realm’s problems over your morning drinks?” she asked dryly, clearly smelling the alcohol.
“Actually, we were just discussing your joyful disposition, sunshine,” Tuck answered.
She whacked his shoulder with her cane. “Call me that again and I’ll show you just how sunny I can be.”
Minnie and I sat in the back of the carriage while Tuck took the seat at the front, effortlessly driving the horses through Stirling. Except when we didn’t turn south to head to Paesha’s home in Silbath, I shot a glance to Minnie. “Where are we going?”
“If you would have pulled your head out of that office of yours at all these past few days, you would know.”
“Where’s Quill?” I asked, suddenly more concerned for the child than the man.
“Oh, look. The Keeper does have a heart. She’s gone home to Silbath with her caretakers. Tuck’s been on rotation, checking on them as well as keeping an eye on Archer and the king, while you sit around pouting.”
“I’m not pouting, I’m working.”
“I don’t argue with pouters.” She shifted away so she could fully face me. “What’s the end goal here? Because I need you to promise me you’re not going to the Forgotten. Tell me there’s nothing Alastor can do to make that happen.”
“I’ll do a lot of things, Minnie. But not that.”
She gripped the cane across her lap. “You have that look on your face, Reverius. If you go there, you know what Ezra says is going to happen. Alastor will send the Huntress. She’ll betray you and you will ruin us all.”
I looked away to hide the scowl at her use of my first name. “I don’t trust a single thing my brother says. And neither should you.”
“Then tell me why we went to him.”