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CHAPTER

THIRTY-THREE

Oralia

“May I come in?”

I knocked again on Caston’s door, waiting for his muffled invitation before pushing through. It was the dark green room I’d stayed in when Ren first brought me to Infernis, and the sight of it made my throat burn at the memories lingering within. Caston was seated at the window as I often had been, one knee up on the cushion, dressed in a simple white tunic and dark trousers.

When I took a step in, he rose, but I waved him off, crossing the space to settle beside him. “If you put on any more formalities, I think I might be sick.”

He huffed, shaking his head. “Old habits.”

I hummed. They were difficult to kill, especially growing up in Typhon’s court and then in his armies. Caston’s life had been filled with pomp and circumstance. His entire existence had been a choreographed dance until the moment his father shot a kratus arrow through his heart.

“Do you think he knows?” I murmured.

We did not say his father’s name aloud, but there was no need. His throat bobbed with a swallow. “If he does, it makes no difference to him. I am no more an heir than he is a father.”

Carefully, I covered his hand with mine, running a gloved thumb over his knuckles. “I am sorry.”

“Do not be. I have learned more about the man who sired me than I ever could have wished to, and it makes me want to set fire to the blood running through my veins.”

I did not know what to say, so I squeezed his hand, wishing Ren was here. He would have the right words.

“Did you know he never intended for you to keep your magic?” Caston asked bitterly, his attention sliding to me from the window.

My throat clicked with a swallow. “Yes, I did.”

A small part of me had always known, even when I’d fooled myself into thinking otherwise. But now, after everything, I knew for certain.

The small sound of disgust flying from his mouth spoke louder than any word could. “Those healers he brought…they were not there to heal you. They were trying to do what he has finally accomplished with this sun-forsaken weapon. All this time, he was trying to strip you of your magic in order to take it for himself.”

“I know,” I murmured. “Believe me, I do.”

To Typhon, I had been merely a cup on a shelf, a vessel to hold the power he knew lived inside of me. I did not know how long ago he had realized I contained this power. Perhaps he had even known the night I was bitten. But it did not take a seer to connect the dots.

“That is why he kept you weak. He feared what would happen should you learn to control your power.”

All I could do was nod again as emotion played across his face. “I do not blame you.”

Caston slipped his hand from beneath mine, scrubbing at his face. “Give me a task. Tell me what to do. I am powerless here.”

His words were a relief. They were the reason I’d come here in the first place.

“Come with us today. This last piece feels strange. More treacherous than the others. I have this feeling…” I trailed off, pressing the tips of my fingers to my breastbone. “There is a knowing inside my power that tells me I need you there.”

We stared at each other for a long moment while Caston read my face. His magic fluttered against my skin, featherlight and unobtrusive as he searched for the truth in my words. Finally he squeezed my wrist, giving me a small smile.

“Of course, I will come, Oralia. I would follow you to the ends of the world.”

I flipped my hand over to grab his. “Well…that might be exactly where we are going.”

* * *

“Come, children,” Samarah crooned in her singsong voice, tugging Drystan closer to me.

Nerves fluttered in my chest. Here before me was the final piece, save for Ren’s wings. But I hoped I could retrieve those too before long, even if he must be revived before then. Drystan’s hand closed over my elbow, squeezing gently.

“There is no rush, Oralia,” Drystan murmured. “Take your time.”

I relaxed at his words, even though I wanted to rush headlong into whatever was waiting for us on the other side of the in-between. But it was a relief to know I had those at my back who cared for me, who wanted me to come out of this alive, even if I could not find it in me to care for it myself. Because deep down, I would gladly sacrifice myself if it meant returning Ren to this world.

Shadows twined over my shoulders, rising to wrap around my waist and out to cover my companions. Aelestor stood at my right, holding my elbow, while Drystan held the other. Caston’s hand was on my shoulder, and Samarah’s hand was on my waist. Though I did not think I needed it, Samarah’s magic bolstered my own, deepening the darkness around us until it was as easy as breathing to carry the four of them. I kept my eyes wide open as we stepped through the dark, looking for a glint of a silver-capped wing in the night.

Ren and I locked eyes for the briefest of moments, and my heart clenched at the small nod he gave. More intimate than any kiss, prouder than any word. He believed in me when I could not believe in myself and was so sure of my path I had no choice but to continue to travel it.

I would not let him down.

The shadows dissipated slowly, salty spray misting over my face, sunlight breaking through the last of the dark. The hands over my arms tightened, and the tips of my boots hung over the edge of a rocky ledge. A collective gasp cut through the roaring waves. The water before us was an endless expanse, obstructed only by an island covered with mist so thick I could only make out the ragged cliffside.

“ Great Mothers,” Aelestor cursed.

“Yes?” Samarah asked, turning with raised brows.

Shaking my head, I wiped the spray from my face, leaning over the edge of the cliff to eye any sort of way down. Drystan kept a hand around my arm, holding me steady as my stomach swooped with the vertical drop. There were enough handholds to maneuver down the rocky cliff, though the mist from the ocean might cause us difficulty. I wished I had Ren and Asteria’s wings so I could fly us over the water and to the island where the silver thread tugged.

Wreckage caught my eye on the shore below. Battered pieces of wood, waterlogged by the ocean, were strewn across the black sand. How many had tried to traverse these waters and how would we get across to those shores when others had failed?

“Where are we?” I eyed the shimmering waves, calmer farther out toward the island.

Magic rippled across my skin. Power rumbled through my veins. Something within this place called to me, beckoned me forward and into the water. I was unsurprised when no one answered for a long moment, transfixed by the undulating mist across from us. I could have sworn I saw figures twisting and writhing in pain within the fog so much like our mist within Infernis. Was that a shriek I heard? A scream? And then silence, nothing but the sounds of our breaths and the churning of the ocean.

It was Samarah who eventually spoke, a strange mix of grief and longing in her words.

“Welcome, my darlings, to Iapetos.”