Page 7 of Until the End of Ever (To the Cruel Gods #2)

KLEOS

W e were all baffled when Silver picked this specific apartment, on the ground floor of a modern building, too far from the town center and the Guard where she knew she’d work, two years ago.

Contrary to what my mother liked to suggest, the neighborhood was perfectly acceptable, but I never saw the appeal in the simple pied-a-terre.

There was a park nearby, and a nice view of the mountains where the Grove of Dodona’s saplings had been replanted, but personally, I preferred the canals and its selkies.

Less than six months after she moved in, I understood. It didn’t matter how impersonal or boring the place was to start with: Silver had made it hers.

Everything in the decor had seemed tragically square in the beginning; today there were carved columns supporting every archway and separating the open-plan layout. The minuscule garden at the back of the house became a round atrium surrounded by white walls, with a fountain in the middle.

The light never quite hit the rest of Highvale as brightly as it did in Silver’s hall.

She’d bought a cheap flat in the right place and made it her castle.

“ How the hell did you build all this?” I’d asked her once.

She shrugged. “One of those days you were in the archives, I wandered and found masonry books. The ancient kind, with stones and mud and sunlight.”

I’d blinked in complete disbelief.

“I mean, no one bothers working that way now—it’s so much easier for people who have tons of money to just hire an architect. But there are plenty of porous stones and limestone in the mountain if you know where to look. It’s not illegal to take some; I checked.”

That made sense solely for her, and no one else in the world. Her physical strength meant that carving and lifting the kind of rock people used to build pyramids on her shoulders was as easy as picking up a pebble.

“It’s been my weekend project.”

Her weekend project looked just as luxurious as the Valesco house now.

I’d never told my mother, saving it for a day when I really wanted to see her rupture a vein.

She only owned the ground floor, but her neighbor, an old priestess of Athena, was more than happy to let Silver play around.

I knew she’d renovated her flat, too, though I’d never seen it.

“Morgan would never believe me if I told her who we met today,” Silver mused, glancing up at the stairs leading to the first floor before opening her door.

It was prettiest at sunset, with the warm colors exploding all over her white walls. Silver didn’t have many windows; she couldn’t make those herself. She kept saying she’d hire someone to build some but in truth, with her non-generic circular or large arches, it wasn’t going to be cheap.

It being November, her house was freezing. Still wrapped in my magic shawl, I lifted my hands and focused on building shields around the atrium, as she moved to start a fire in her hearth, and one in the fire pit she kept close to her fountain.

“You have got to get some windows. One January, I’ll find you buried under a pile of snow.”

She rolled her eyes. “The rooms have windows, and they share a wall with the hearth. You know, people did survive winters before central heating existed.”

I teased her, but in truth, she rarely complained about the cold, either used to it, or partially immune to it, I couldn’t say.

I knew she’d built the atrium on a gentle downward slope which meant that the rain and snow ended up at the fountain in the center, and flowing down to the street; her house was never flooded.

Silver might not be as fond of books as I was, but she’d done an exceptional job with this place, so she was clearly capable of studying the ins and outs of subjects that interested her.

“Do you mind if I take a shower?”

“Make yourself at home. I’ll get started on drinks.” She set out to make her legendary hot chocolate, no doubt perfected to combat the arctic temperature her flat could reach—with the house now blocked from the elements, it warmed up in no time.

By the time I was out of the shower, the whole place was pleasantly toasty.

I kept some clothes in her guest bedroom, as I stayed over fairly frequently.

Nothing particularly nice, just the kind of things I might have worn to work: black or gray cargo pants and form-fitting impact tops, designed to protect the body during combat.

I might spend half my time in the archives, but the other half was spent at the mercy of Aunt Hilda and other trainers.

Dressing the part ensured I went home with fewer bruises.

These tops compacted my chest into a particularly awful uniboob. I certainly wouldn’t have worn them for an actual date. It’d do for a suitor on my mother’s approved list.

“Oh, you’re joking,” Silver gasped, handing me a steaming mug of heaven as I walked out of the guest bedroom. “Zenya will murder you if she hears you showed up in work gear.”

I sighed, recognizing the truth in her words. “Well, it’s that or the top I wore all day. Between Python and Apollo? It stinks of sweat and terror.”

Silver chuckled. “I mean, I liked Apollo. He seemed…you know, not nice, but cool, I guess?”

I stared in complete disbelief. “You’re hopeless. You, and Gideon, and that guy, Ronan, are all going to die because you see horrors and think, hey, it’s cool !”

“I’m not as bad as Gideon,” Silver protested.

Yesterday, I might have agreed. Gideon could easily identify something as dangerous. The problem was, it didn’t stop him from engaging. Meanwhile, Silver had zero fear. But the fact that that extended to literal gods meant that she was definitely the most insane amongst my two friends.

“I mean,” she continued, “he was powerful. But I don’t think he meant to hurt us.”

I sipped the warm drink, considering her words.

I never had that certainty, at any point during the entire interaction. But thinking back, he was rather nice to Silver. He’d even left her his bow.

As I thought of it, my eyes were drawn to where it rested on her coffee table, just as shiny as before.

I could have sworn this morning it was gold with shining white filigree, but now it seemed to have switched, becoming mostly white with gold strands. Was it even the same bow?

“Part of me thinks we should lock it in the archives. But how would we even start to explain how we got it?” There was no way I was going to share the events of the day around town. For one, no one would believe me. “Besides, Lucian thinks no one else should touch it.”

I agreed with him.

“I’m not handing it over,” Silver stated, categorical. “And you should raid my wardrobe again.”

I wrinkled my nose. “No way.”

Silver had two kinds of clothing: practical, or gorgeous, like the dress I’d borrowed to go to Pan’s on Saturday.

I had no intention of looking gorgeous tonight. “I wouldn’t want to give my fucking cousin the wrong idea.”

“Ew.” She grimaced. “You’re really seeing Castor?”

Mother hadn’t confirmed it today, but I assumed so.

She shivered. “I mean, I know the old bloods in town have intermarried for centuries, but no.”

I nodded, in full agreement. “Well, it’s not like I would consider anyone on my mother’s list. They can all be summed up in three words: sexist, self-important, and seriously boring.”

“Then why let her make you go on these dates in the first place? It’s a bloody waste of time.”

“You know why.” I finished the drink, dropping down on her comfortable lilac sofa.

Silver grunted, falling next to me. “Bloody council.”

She could say that again.

People with a certain level of power were on a watchlist. This town might be full of supernatural creatures, but there were a few capable of blowing it all up in the course of a tantrum.

Like me.

The list had fewer than a hundred names—not many, when there were millions of inhabitants in the city.

Most of those names belonged to the founding families, or the noble lines dating back to the beginning of Highvale.

The rest of their families stood as their guardians, ensuring the council that they had the means and will to control them.

Those without patrons had to undergo severe checks, restrictions, psychological and physical testing. They were wards of the state, constantly observed.

We could blame Cassius Regis for the rules. He flipped and decided to murder all new bloods overnight—and managed to kill over seven hundred before he was stopped. The draconian restrictions made sense.

But I didn’t want to be on that list, constantly watched, judged, imprisoned for the slightest infraction.

Hiding the extent of my power helped. Given that I was considered dangerous because of the level the council believed I was at, if they knew the extent of my power, I would likely be locked up, or even killed.

So, I drained myself almost daily, any way I could, using magic for the slightest reason.

My access to Lucian’s draining pool the last few days had been a blessing.

Even though they only knew about a fraction of my abilities, the only other reason the council left me alone was because my mother, the esteemed White Witch, daughter of the Pendros line, signed off on my documents every month.

She was my guardian, and she’d made no secret of what would happen if I couldn’t fall in line.

She didn’t have many rules. Live at home, attend those stupid dates, never blow up or show the extent of my powers in public. It would be stupid of me to rock that boat.

“If someone takes a picture of you tonight and it gets back to Zenya, she’ll give you tons of shit. Let me lend you a top, at least.”

Sadly, Silver and I weren’t built the same. The only thing we had in common was our bra cups.

The dress she’d lent me Saturday reached her knees, while it was a mini dress on me. Fabric spells weren’t my specialty, and I’d never risk ruining her fancy clothing with shoddy magic. Perfectly normal tops for her would be cropped up to my navel.

In the end, she found a sleeveless black denim summer dress, which became a nice tunic on me. Paired with my shawl, I looked perfectly fine.

“You’re still wearing that?” she said, spotting the glint of the stone around my throat.

My hand rested on the cool diamonds. “It’s spelled to see if I’ve been cursed. Everyone should have something like it, really.”

Except the magic coating its stone was unique, crafted by Lucian. I should try to talk him into make it available in his stores—but his pricing was so prohibitive it wasn’t going to help the general population.

Silver grinned. “Nothing to do with a certain hot dark sorcerer who gave it to you?”

“Hot?” I repeated. “Since when do you think he’s hot?”

“Since I’ve been blessed with working eyeballs.” Silver shrugged. “I figured he was, you know, evil. Never said he wasn’t hot.”

“And now?” I asked.

“You trust him, that much is clear. And, well, you’re the smartest person I know. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. And kill him if you’re wrong.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I bumped her shoulder. “If I’m wrong, I’ll kill him myself.”