Page 64 of Evermore (The Never Sky #3)

Paesha

A s I woke, sprawled on the streets of Stirling, the Remnants revolted.

They tore across my skin like shards of glass, each movement a rebellion against my choice.

The voices had abandoned words entirely, filling my mind with an endless, piercing shriek that threatened to shatter what remained of my sanity.

My body convulsed as I pulled away from Thorne, every inch of separation an agony as the shadows on my skin twisted in fury.

Through the haze of pain, I saw them. Alastor stood with his usual arrogant posture, hands clasped behind his back as he watched us sprawled on the cobblestones.

Beside him, Irri swayed gently to a tune she hummed, her blood-red hair the perfect staple for her eerie nature.

But the dreamy vacancy in her eyes had been replaced by something ancient and knowing as she studied us.

“Well,” Alastor drawled, his lips curving into that infuriating smile.

“Isn’t this delightfully unexpected.” He raised his hand, and the binding marks around my wrists flared one final time before fading completely.

“As promised, you’re free. Though I feel compelled to mention that means you’re no longer under my protection. The gods will notice soon enough.”

Thorne had barely moved but his voice carried enough venom to make Alastor pause. “Let them try. Just know that anyone who dares to touch her will beg for death long before I grant it.”

Alastor’s smile widened as he wrapped an arm around Irri’s waist. “Such passion. Such promises. I do hope you can keep them better than the last ones.”

Thorne pulled himself up, reaching for me with hands that still trembled from the fight.

Despite the screaming in my head, despite the shadows trying to tear me apart from within, I let him help me stand.

We walked away without another word, leaving Alastor’s soft laughter and Irri’s haunting melody behind us.

“Take me home,” I managed.

“Tuck’s already been summoned.” Thorne kept his hand at my elbow, steadying me as another wave of fury from the shadows threatened to bring me to my knees. “We need to make it to the main street.”

I barked out a laugh that held no humor. “Easy enough.”

“Just a few more minutes. You can yell at me the whole way if it helps.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

We made it three blocks before my legs started to give out.

The Remnants were relentless, tearing at me from the inside as punishment for my betrayal.

Thorne’s arm slipped around my waist, taking more of my weight.

The sound of hooves on cobblestones was almost lost beneath the screaming in my head.

Tuck jumped down from the carriage, his heavy boots hitting the ground as he rushed to help.

“You look terrible,” he said, reaching for my other arm.

“And you look like a liar,” I shot back. “A god? Really?”

“I never lied.” He helped Thorne guide me toward the carriage. “You made assumptions.”

“Called it,” Thorne muttered, lifting me into the carriage before I could protest.

“I hate you both,” I growled, but let them settle me against the cushioned seat. The Remnants surged again, and I had to bite back a scream. “Next time I decide to save your life, remind me what terrible company you keep.”

Tuck clicked his tongue. “That’s no way to talk about your favorite carriage driver.”

“Let me guess. God of Deception and Driving?”

He froze. “Knowledge, actually. Thank you very much.”

I rolled my eyes, making the headache throb worse. “I would have never guessed.”

“We can argue about it when you’re feeling better.”

“Can’t wait.” I slumped against the cushions, trying to focus. Thorne’s voice seemed to come from far away as he explained something about Archer and the Treeis bond to Tuck. The words blurred together as exhaustion pulled at me, though the Remnants gave me no peace.

“Don’t,” I said sharply when I caught the dark look that passed between them. “When we get there, you keep your hands off Archer. Let me talk to him. If someone’s going to tell him he’s been manipulated by yet another god, it should be me.”

“He likely already knows,” Tuck said, shutting the door to the carriage. “Either way, we’ll get it sorted. Best clean yourself up, Boss. No need to scare the kid with all that blood on your face.”

Thorne pulled a cloth from a box under the seat and dabbed at the wound on his head with a hiss. I managed a moan as the carriage sprung to life, headed straight to the Syndicate house. Tuck had always been good at knowing where… Mother fucker. God of Knowledge, indeed.

Thorne was quiet the entire way. His eyes drifted to me, but I could tell his mind was busy.

Back in reality, there were far worse things than monsters hiding in the dark.

Eventually, the carriage slowed to a halt outside the Syndicate house, where Archer already stood waiting with Quill at his side.

The moment the door opened, Quill launched herself forward, but stopped abruptly as her small hands made contact with my skin. She jerked back, her eyes widening.

“You’re mad?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

I slowly shook my head, fighting against the chaos still raging within. “It’s not me.”

Those keen eyes studied me intently, studying the swirling marks on my skin, understanding dawning in their depths.

Without hesitation, Quill reached out and took my hand again.

This time, waves of calm and tranquility flowed from the contact, pushing back against the furious Remnants.

Though they didn’t fall silent completely, their assault became bearable for the first time since leaving the Forgotten.

I fell to my knees, yanking her into a hug that we both needed. “Thank you, my girl.”

“I missed you,” she whispered back. We stayed like that for several minutes.

Until I remembered that having Archer at my back was a threat.

Even though something within me refused to believe it.

I stood, keeping my grip on Quill’s hand like a lifeline.

I turned to face Archer. He hadn’t moved from his spot, his attention fixed on the carriage where Thorne and Tuck remained.

He didn’t appear angry, but certainly wary.

“Is there something you’d like to share with me?” I asked quietly.

Archer’s jaw clenched. He’d been preparing for a battle, it seemed. “If this is about my father?—”

“This is about Ezra.”

The name hit him like a physical blow. He jerked back, genuine shock crossing his features. “What are you talking about?”

Without releasing Quill’s hand, I pulled aside the fabric covering my shoulder, revealing the Treeis mark. Archer’s sharp intake of breath was followed by a trembling hand pushing up his sleeve. There on his forearm, unmistakable and damning, was the same intricate pattern.

“I have the same mark.” He stared down at his forearm in confusion. “I don’t know where it came from. I just noticed it one day.”

I gestured for Tuck and Thorne to join us, never letting go of Quill. They approached cautiously, and Tuck’s eyes immediately fixed on the matching marks.

“It’s a Treeis bond,” Tuck explained, his voice grave.

“We haven’t seen one in centuries. It’s an ancient binding that’s impossible to create unless you’re Unmade.

” He shared a look with Thorne before continuing.

“The Unmade Guardians answer only to Ezra. They are mortal, but only just. The Treeis bond is something we’ve occasionally seen over history, but never without someone’s magical acceptance. ”

Thorne’s gaze moved between the three of us, me, Archer, and Quill, his expression dark and studious.

“What’s the possibility of a Treeis bond between three?

” he asked Tuck. “In all the realms’ history, it’s never been done, but could it happen?

Unless…the three always included Ezra and now, because of the chain of events these three bonded first.”

Tuck answered, “I’m not sure. But we’re in agreement that Archer has shown all the signs of an Unmade Guardian, right?”

Thorne nodded.

“Can we back up here,” I asked. “Start with the basics. What’s an Unmade? What’s an Unmade Guardian? How do you become one? What does it mean? We need the basics.”

“An Unmade is a Guardian. Ezra plucks mortals from the realms that he believes will follow his cause. He sees possible future events, determines the probability of them and uses his Unmade Guardians to help stop whatever sets the most destructive things into motion. It’s similar to the way you were bound to Alastor, only the Unmade follow Ezra because they believe in his cause.

They feed power to him specifically from their devotion to him. ”

“Well I can tell you right now, I’m not devoted to him. I’ve never even spoken to Ezra,” Archer protested, running his fingers over the mark. “Not once.”

“He could have been pretending to be me,” Thorne said quietly. “You might have met him without realizing who he was.”

“Search his memories,” I said, pulling Quill back. “If he’ll let you, search and see what you can find. If your power is renewed enough.”

Archer stepped forward. “Do it.”

Thorne hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“I’d like to know what the hell this is,” Archer answered.

Thorne’s eyes glowed golden for the flash of a second as he dove into Archer’s mind. We stood in silence, waiting.

Elowen and Thea came outside, with Boo in tow. The little dog circled their feet as they sandwiched Quill and I between them.

“Welcome home. Again,” Elowen whispered.

“Thank you.” I tried to force a smile, but it never came.

Her eyes flashed to Thorne and Archer and then to me, and I knew without her words what she was asking. Did I want him there? Should she step in? She’d always been the mother I never had. Even when she’d been quietly observing. I nodded, almost imperceptibly. She leaned a little closer. “You okay?”

“For now,” I whispered back.