Page 41 of Until the End of Ever (To the Cruel Gods #2)

KLEOS

I always loved the water.

I rarely travelled outside of Highvale, but whenever I got a chance to get to a beach, I jumped on it. My favorite vacation was in Greece, my bare feet in the crisp, clear waves.

Almost every witch I knew had an element they felt closer to, and mine was definitely water.

It made me feel connected to the universe, in an endless circle.

When my toes touched the soft sand on the shores of Ayia Napa, I remembered this side of the Mediterranean Sea touched the Tyrrhenian Sea, which was connected to the Atlantic, and eventually, that bled into the Pacific Ocean.

Being on open water connected us to the entire world.

Today, I learned something new.

The water didn’t love me.

I was taken aback by the absolute violence of the current crashing into me, forcing me back, downward, squeezing my lungs.

“-os!”

My ears, full of water, could barely hear a thing past the gigantic waves, but I would notice Lucian anywhere. I didn’t even have to hear him; I felt him nearby. Calling to me.

“Kleos!”

It took a herculean effort just to stay afloat, to not let the whirlpool swallow me whole, but I pushed myself to move, even just a little, in the direction where I could feel him.

“Here—” I was underwater again, farther down, and the unrelenting, cruel torrent kept pushing me.

Then there was warmth pulling my hand up, fighting the nightmarish flow. I paddled, moving my free hand in a breast stroke to try to make it up.

The next breath, when I broke the surface of the water, was pure joy, not simply because my lungs were screaming, but because Lucian was pressing me against his chest.

I doubted the sea had relented even a little, but my own strength increased with Lucian close.

“We need out of here!” I yelled over the wave, desperately turning to spot something, anything, that might show the best direction to move. “There’s land there!”

“Kleos,” Lucian said, softer this time. “Not that way, you hear me? You need to swim away from the cliffs.”

That made no sense. We couldn’t stay in the water.

I looked at him and frowned in confusion.

He was using magic. Not just any magic, but his core power. It never occurred to me that he was never more beautiful than when surrounded by his red mist.

And then it dawned on me, harder than the waves.

His presence had always made me smile, and generally happier, yes, but the strength I suddenly felt? That was him, transferring his energy to me.

“Lucian?”

“We’re between Scylla and Charybdis. The whirlpool is a trial, yes, but you can make it.

It’s your inheritance. Your power. Scylla would devour your soul in instants.

Swim in the opposite direction,” he said, pointing far in the distance, where there was no sign of land, or of anything.

“It sounds daunting, I know. I know,” he repeated, his voice breaking.

“But you’ll make it. Next, there are sirens.

You’re to tell them one word, Kleos. Don’t forget it, it’s very important.

Zeablut . As soon as you hear the song, you scream it. Understood?”

“No, no, no—” I shook my head, for good measure. “Stop it. Stop this!”

It was hard, fighting him to let go of me and fighting against the downward spiral wanting to swallow us both.

“ Zeablut . Say it.”

“Fuck you!” I shrieked instead. “I’m not taking your energy. I refuse. We’re swimming together, and you can tell them whatever you want!”

Holding on to his arm, I tried to pull him in the direction he’d gestured towards, but I could barely move myself, let alone him.

“Stop it,” I demanded, pushing away from him so he’d halt the transfer.

His grasp was stronger than iron.

“I’m not a great swimmer, love. I won’t make it. One of us has to. And now you know.”

Tears ran down my cheeks, tears no one would see, as I was almost swallowed by water.

Now I knew that he cared for me enough to sacrifice his own life without even giving it a second thought. Without even trying to save himself. What he didn’t realize was that I’d never accept his sacrifice.

“Listen to me,” I demanded. “The moment you sink, I let go. You understand that? We both make it out, or neither of us does. It’s you and me. Until the end of ever. Or until now, if you prefer.”

I wasn’t sure how much he’d caught, with the deafening waves, but I’d shocked him into stillness, and finally, the idiot had stopped syphoning his own energy out.

Lucian’s lips crashed onto mine, both of his arms around me.

If we were going to die like this, it wouldn’t be so bad. But I’d much rather live.

The prospect of swimming away from this mess seemed completely overwhelming, and the thought of making it long enough to find land, away from Scylla, even land infested with sirens, was hopeless. But if Odysseus had survived this, we would too.

“All right. Legs together, one arm, and we switch when it gets tiring,” I said, clinging to him with one side. “We’ll make it.”

“You were remade by the sea god. Maybe he’ll take pity on us,” Lucian said, managing some humor.

I froze, which was the dumbest thing to do when I had to keep moving.

Except I didn’t. Not really.

And now you know.

I’d assumed Lucian had wordlessly given me a grand confession, but that wasn’t what he was doing at all, was it?

We were in the middle of a ritual to discover my inheritance. A journey. Technically, our bodies weren’t even here.

And we’d ended up in the middle of a sea that didn’t belong to our world; the sea of legends and monsters and gods.

One god, specifically.

I’d been made by Poseidon, the lord of this nightmarish world.

There was only one thing I ought to be doing.

Pray.

“Give me a second,” I said, resuming the desperate paddling to stay afloat. “I think—yeah. Just a second.”

I’d never been more unsure. I wasn’t my mother.

I hadn’t studied the right way to address gods.

And then I thought about Apollo, wearing my bracelet and Silver’s earring, hanging out with us on the cave’s floor.

I thought of Cassius, son of Hypnos, son of Nyx.

Maybe the gods didn’t really give a damn about propriety.

I’m sorry if I’m doing this all wrong. Poseidon, I beg for your mercy. Please. I’ll bring cupcakes to your altar every month for the rest of my life, I swear. Could you get us out of there?

I felt so very foolish. I was speaking to myself. In my own head. This wasn’t going to work, was it?

No.

I believed it would work. It had to.

Poseidon had saved me once, and I trusted him.

It hit me. What I needed to do. What we both needed to do. It was terrifying, but I was beyond certain it was also right.

“Lucian? Let go.”

“What?”

“We’re not even here. We need to let go.”

“If our minds die, our bodies die, too.”

That might be true, but?—

“Poseidon won’t allow it.” I’d never sounded more positive of anything in my entire life.

Except, perhaps, of the fact that I was hopelessly in love with the man holding on to my hands.

“All right. I’ll see you on the other side.”

And then, we sank into the darkest of abysses.