Page 1 of Until the End of Ever (To the Cruel Gods #2)

KLEOS

I doubted anything could have prepared me for today.

In theory, I knew we had come here to get answers from a god. The strange runes that had been seared into my skin as part of a dark ritual to control me might be gone, replaced by Lucian’s writing, but the person who’d cursed me was still as elusive as ever.

We needed to know who it was, and none of our research had helped, so we were desperate enough to waste half a day on a field trip.

Just in case.

I hadn’t let myself think about what the “in case” entailed.

If I had, I would have imagined a thunderous voice from the deep, muttering vague, indiscernible verses. Wasn’t that what people usually got when they sought prophecies?

Then the great serpent appeared, and I was too busy worrying about not getting eaten—and not allowing my lethally courageous friends to turn themselves into snake chews—to think.

But even if I’d taken the time to pause and ponder the significance of dealing with Python, I wouldn’t have imagined him .

I’d always pictured Apollo as blond in my mind, but fiery red waves made equal sense.

I hadn’t really considered the gods as actual people, but in my errant thoughts, the sun god was good . Warm. Maybe even funny. Like someone who loved sunbathing on a summer’s day with a cocktail in hand.

How wrong I was.

Something like him couldn’t be reduced to any one word, especially not good . He was blindingly gorgeous, his presence so great it felt like it could crush me, bone and soul.

When he stepped towards us, it was a struggle to remain on my knees. My instincts were to run away.

His eyes varied between the blue of the clearest sky one moment, flashing as red as fire the next.

I was terrified. Even more terrified than when I faced Python.

Python was a simple godly creature. It was hungry; we looked like a good snack. He would have eaten our flesh and blood and essence, absorbing everything we were or could have been. I understood that.

What Apollo might want from us? I had no clue. I wasn’t naive enough to think that eating us was out of the question.

Each step he took made my heart thunder harder in my chest.

“You can straighten up, you know. I’m not one to stand on ceremony.”

He said that, but I had a feeling that if we hadn’t immediately prostrated ourself at his feet the moment he’d appeared, he might have burned us all to ash.

Hesitant, I made myself rise from my knees, straightening my spine one vertebra at the time.

I struggled to look at him properly. Keeping my gaze down, I only stole glances from the corners of my eyes.

The bow he casually held in his hand gleamed white and gold. I wondered why he bothered to carry a weapon when I was so certain he could kill us all with a mere snap of his fingers.

Not even that. A thought would have sufficed.

We shouldn’t have come.

“Great Apollo, you honor us with your presence.” Lucian took one step forward, ever so slightly to his right.

Towards me.

Though considerably more discreet, it was no different than his stance when Python had emerged. He was shielding me again .

A quirk in the flawless creature’s lips told me he missed nothing. I fucking hoped he wasn’t offended by Lucian’s protectiveness. My guess was if he had been, we would have known.

Hoping to prevent Lucian from accidentally insulting this terrifying creature, I grabbed his elbow.

Lucian brought his hand to mine, gently covering it reassuringly, as if to say “I’ve got this.”

Good, good. I certainly didn’t.

“We thought we might, if we were infinitely lucky, hear your words of wisdom. Seeing you in person is a privilege.”

“Pretty words,” Apollo remarked, tilting his head, fiery eyes assessing Lucian. “Pretty man. I like you. But don’t waste my time, darling. I’m here because you called, and you paid the price.”

“The price?” I heard Silver ask.

I was immediately on my guard. I knew her too well. She was fully capable of offending him with her direct, irreverent self, if given a chance.

“Yes, pet. The shields around this world are quite clever. Anyone can call a god, if prepared to face their antithesis. You want me? You have to deal with my good friend Python first.”

“It would be nice if that had been written at the door,” Silver grumbled. “Or like, on a pamphlet.”

Oh, for the love of every god, someone shut her up.

Too close to clasp my hand to her mouth, I looked at Gideon desperately. Instead of doing his best to silence her, he hung his head, as though resigned to the fact that she was going to get us all killed.

Then the divine monster threw his head back and laughed.

He laughed .

It sounded like a melody, pure joy and happiness wrapped in one sound lost to time. Catching his breath, he then proceeded to lower himself to the cave’s floor and sat crossed-legged, eyes back to sky blue.

Silver was the first to do the same, but we followed suit.

“That’s not our style, little hunter. We don’t just tell people what to do.

Takes the fun out of any quest.” His smile was downright disturbing, while the fire in his eyes ate all the blue again.

“Besides, I like the rules. They mean that if some weak punk has the audacity to call me, they get their just desserts, and I don’t have to deal with them. ”

He was completely ruthless.

“You have me for a further twenty-three minutes. Make them count.”

Fuck. Where did I start?

“Why twenty-three? Is that a sacred number?” Silver had zero fear.

Our eleven years of friendship had made that clear, but I hadn’t realized her bravery would remain intact when faced with actual gods .

“Nah, I just can’t afford to stay longer than a half hour. Right now, most of me’s at the sun palace ‘meditating.’” He made air quotes with his fingers. “And there’s no reason to think anyone will notice I’ve projected part of me here.”

This was only part of him? Fuck .

“But Python wasn’t as subtle, and it’s not impossible his stirring could have been noticed. I can’t afford for some individuals to find out I’m here.”

“Some individuals? Like wh?—”

“Sil, shut up ,” I hissed.

Would she ever learn?

“No names, please. Don’t you remember what happened at the Wild Horn?”

I didn’t even want to say Pan.

Calling the name of a god was invoking them; by saying any of their names, she could bring the attention of the very people Apollo was attempting to evade.

Silver grimaced, finally getting it. “I see.”

Apollo nodded to himself. “You’re not completely hopeless, then. Good. I truly do hate wasting my time. Nineteen minutes. I’m enjoying this little chat, but tick-tock.”

“Someone tried to control me with a dark ritual,” I summarized, cutting to the main point. “Can you tell us who? Or why? Or how to stop them?”

“That’s not how it works, kitten.” The god grinned, showing off teeth that seemed too white and sharp.

“Knowledge is the prize one acquires through the journey. If you want a cheat sheet, I can make Gaia speak her prophecy through one of you. But that’s not without danger to the speaker, and you shouldn’t expect a straight answer from her. ”

Ugh . That would have been too easy.

“As for the why , surely you’re not that dim?” Apollo asked me. “You’re very pretty, so I’d understand if you were, but my general impression was that you have a few working brain cells.”

My jaw dropped. No one had ever called me dumb before.

“It’s because of what you are. Surely, you’ve suspected? If not before, certainly after the way you dealt with Python.”

I bit my lower lip.

I still didn’t understand what had occurred when rage and violence and the echo of long forgotten wars seemed to awake inside me.

“They want to control Kleos because she’s a goddess,” Lucian stated baldly, as though the words made sense.

They didn’t.

I was Kleos. Just Kleos. I was born to a rich family with average magical skills, and an old family respected in Highvale, but without too much power.

Certainly not a freaking goddess . Seeing Apollo made that clear. I was a speck of dust compared to him.

“Sort of,” Apollo replied. “Not yet. But at seven years old, the age when, in the old days, a child started their training, discovered their purpose, she was obliterated down to the last molecule, and then remade bit by bit. Forged by hands which aren’t capable of forging anything mortal.”

Silence met his words.

Obliterated .

I remembered the fire. I remembered burning from the inside out.

Then I was just fine, but that didn’t change what had happened.

“I died,” I finally acknowledged.

I never really understood it before, though the old man had said something similar at the time.

Curiosity has already killed you once.

Apollo saw no need to repeat himself, or even nod.

“When you were put back together, you became a possibility. A question mark. There have been many watchful eyes on you since that day. Some of us even took bets as to what you would become. Something new? Something old?” He smiled again. “Twelve minutes.”

Fuck, I had far too many questions.

Prioritize, Kleos.

“What do you mean, what she’d become?” Silver asked before I could find my words. “I thought you said she’d be a goddess.”

Now it was apparent that Apollo enjoyed her directness, I was grateful for her presence. I would have wasted a lot of time thinking whereas she blurted out whatever popped into her head. And it seemed important to know.

“Well, that’s always the question, isn’t it?” He shifted, one knee up. “When a god dies, their energy continues existing in the cosmos.”

“Gods die?” Ronan piped up for the first time.

“Yes,” Lucian hissed, glaring at his friend. “I’ll explain later. Please, continue,” he asked Apollo.

I needed to be around when he spoke to Ronan. He’d given voice to one of the billion questions trotting through my head, and one fewer would be nice.