The next moonless night, he came face to face with two withered creatures, Amos—who was decidedly not Amos—and a being he’d never met. The air stilled. The temperature dropped. He lifted his pendant and prayed for safety. Light glimmered off his necklace. Amos fled. The other creature opened its hungry mouth and soaked in the radiance, then dropped to the ground. Dead.
Years disappeared. Kiren brought the Passionate together and kept them safe from the Soulless, but no matter what he did, the undead ranks of the Soulless grew.
One day he found three of the Passionate wandering in the Alps and discovered his second sliver of hope. She had Alexia’s eyes, her mouth, her build, and her dagger… Corona was seventeen.
The mist child, Ilaria, at last had her memories restored. She had served as Corona’s nanny all these years, and whenever his daughter left Deiliey’s side, she fell into a deep sleep, until they took her to Mae.
Corona followed Kiren closely, trying to learn his ways and attempting to forgive. His absence had wrought an injury deep in her heart. She found it difficult to trust. They reached a sense of peace, if not a comfortable silence between them. He told her what he could of her mother, but she was never satisfied by the shortage of answers.
Neither was he.
Zeph aged slowly, but he grew into a rightful old man, leaving a son behind. It was an exceptionally difficult season for Kiren.
Deiliey died in a skirmish with the Turks. Corona mourned.
In time, they stumbled across men of power like Ulric who fancied themselves “collectors” or slavers of the Passionate. Kiren infiltrated the hierarchy of the Church and became a cardinal. He exerted his influence to relieve these “collectors” of station and fortune, and replaced rumors of witches and demons with stories of “saints.” Corona followed him in disguise and used Church resources to experiment in breeding the most powerful Passionate. Men and women died at her hand in the most grievous ways. When Kiren discovered her efforts, he revealed her to the other clergy: a woman pretending to be an archbishop. She was to be executed. He thwarted the execution and sent her away with her mother’s dagger. The peace between them ended.
She adopted Deiliey’s name. It took two centuries to crush the rebellion she incited within the Passionate, and insurrection remained. After she lost, she disappeared.
As each sunrise presented its challenges, Kiren watched and strove to be worthy of the woman who possessed his heart. He gathered and taught the Passionate. He protected and loved. He governed and served.
The night he held Dana’s child in his arms, he knew like never before that he would finally be complete. She had come back to him, his Alexia.
Seventy
Saying Goodbye: 1849
Kiren lifted his Bible toward the sky, comparing the star sketch on the inner cover to the alignment of stars. He showed the sketch to Sarah. “This is it,” he said. “Six hundred years of waiting to go home, and at last it is time.”
She stiffened next to him, and he couldn’t decide if she was fighting her hunger or upset by the news.
“This will be the last time we see one another, and I wanted to thank you. Thank you for standing by me, even from inside the ranks of the Soulless.” He turned to go but hesitated. “I only wish Alexia had known that she succeeded in saving you—but somewhere in time, she must.”
Sarah caught his wrist, and even through her glove, her skin burned his. “You gave me more time with her. I wish I could do the same for you.”
The instant Alexia had jumped back through time to stop the Soulless, he had known she wouldn’t return, but part of him had hoped. He wouldn’t see his precious wife, his queen, again, but he would rule worthily in her absence—just as she would have him do.
“I would like to see you off,” Sarah said.
Kiren tucked the book in his pocket and offered an arm. “I am honored.”
***
The journey back to scorched earth passed in an instant and lasted forever at the same time. This was it, the final stretch. Kiren had endured well and now would fill his father’s charge. Duty called.
The inn he’d built with Mae stood to mark the space where the gateway would open, maintained by its immortal caretaker. Kiren recalled fighting with Mae over how many windows, how many floors, and how many rooms the inn should have. She’d won. Every battle. It was what she did.
Corona Deiliey waited at the border of scorched earth. As did Miles. Kiren was grateful they’d come.
Corona offered his necklace as he approached. He took it gladly and energy buzzed down his elbow and into his core. It was like filling up a dry well, a well he’d not realized was empty.
“Are you certain you trust me to lead them?” Corona asked.
Kiren glanced at Miles who gave him a grim nod. Corona had been hidden among the Soulless for the last century and a half, leading them, trying to keep them under control with her ability to alter wills. Mostly she succeeded. Since a vast number had been trapped in the rubble of their hive, their threat had been diminished, but those that remained free were out there and dangerous. Once he and Corona had settled their differences, Kiren had acknowledged her before the Passionate, and Miles had agreed to stand at her side to govern their people. She still departed every moonless night to hold the Soulless in check, except for tonight. Precautions had been established for the Passionate in preparation for this evening.
“It is a singularly terrifying thing to lead.” Kiren placed the false pendant around his daughter’s neck. “But I believe you will do well. Give them your heart.”
She nodded.
The four of them descended to the inn. Out back they found Mae, Regin, Ethel, Edward, Nelly, and Lester. Kiren presented Deiliey. “I give you my successor.”
Hands were shaken and words exchanged, and while the others were distracted, Kiren took a moment to say his private farewells. He first spoke to Edward, then tugged Regin aside and whispered, “Has Mae consented yet?”
“Naw, but she will. That ring was bonnie brilliant.”
He patted the man on the shoulder, keeping his voice down. “See that you do not give up. She is stubborn, but you make her happy.”
“Aye. I’ll not be backin’ off.”
Lester tapped the side of his nose as the two men returned and gave them a knowing wink. Kiren clasped forearms with him.
The runner squeezed his arm. “Tis not the last time we’ll meet.”
Nelly stepped forward, licked a thumb, and wiped it at a spot on his cheek. “What are you going to do without a rightful cook at your beck and call?”
“That is a good question. Perhaps you had better come with me?” He waved toward the heart of scorched earth.
Her cheeks bloomed bright red. “I couldn’t do that.”
“Yes, Nelly, you could.”
Her perma-grin dropped. “I do believe I could. Would you welcome me in that realm?”
“Indeed, I would.”
She fussed with her skirts and hair as he spoke with Ethel, and then Mae caught him.
“It has been a long journey,” the reaper said. “Be a good king.” She pulled him down and kissed his cheek.
“For you, I will be the best.”
She wiped a tear away rather than following up with a jibe, and he was forced again to acknowledge how difficult this was for all of them. But it was time to go to his sister. It was time to relieve her suffering.
Miles stood between him and the place where the gate would open. He pulled the lad into a hug. Emotion caught in Kiren’s chest. He had always felt that Miles was the closest he would have to a son: his protégé, his greatest success, his best friend.
He pulled away, breathing the tears down. “You keep her on the right path.”
Miles saluted.
Kiren turned his back to them before he crumbled and focused on steadying his steps. Toward the future. Toward the gateway. Toward his destiny. Nelly padded along behind him.
He lifted his pendant toward the sky and call
ed for the gateway to open.
Light burst into the night, a tunnel of radiance.
Kiren exhaled. This was it. For all his adventures and seasons of calm, all his joys and sorrows, the world and people he had known for six centuries, it was truly time to leave.
A sliver of fear twisted in his heart. What he remembered of the other side may have entirely changed. There was no knowing what awaited him, but he had to face it. He clutched a fist around his medallion. He would become the king his father desired.
He stepped toward the brilliance.
A hint of pomegranate and sunshine touched his nose. He shook the scent free. It was a wishful remembrance of happiness he would never experience again. A kindly remembrance. It made him smile.
A silhouette appeared in the light.
He paused, smile dropping.
Had Kiri come for him? Someone else? An enemy perhaps? He lifted a hand to shade his eyes and squinted.
She leapt free of the gateway, dressed in gray monk’s robes. Her face was dirty, hair wild and free, cheeks flushed as though fresh from battle.
Jungle-deep eyes met his, and his heart stopped.
Seventy-One
Ever After
Alexia skidded to a stop and spread her arms wide to regain her balance, startled that Kiren stood right before her. Not Deamus. Kiren. She bent over, hands on knees and caught her breath, puzzling together how it was possible.
She had faced Deamus inside the gateway, sword poised. Deamus had lifted his hand to attack, and she’d launched forward, shoving her sword through his chest. Metal scraped bone. His scream pierced her ears. He’d thrown his arms down and the weapon flew free, blasted outward. She’d soared backward, smacking into the wall of light. The radiance burned around her skin, holding her fast until she pressed through it and nearly stumbled into Kiren.
“What happened?” she asked. “How did I…?”
His brows lowered, head tilting. And then she noticed the inn behind him.
The inn.
Kiren’s clothes were all wrong—clean and far too modern, a cut she’d never seen before. Behind him stood Nelly, Edward, Miles…
She stumbled backward, reaching for support.
Kiren’s arms curled around her, gently holding her to him.
A sob caught in her throat. The truth, the reality, it couldn’t be. She couldn’t be home. This couldn’t be her Kiren, the man who had lived centuries looking forward to her arrival. The man who had sacrificed. The man who cared too deeply.
As his oaken musk sank into her, she knew it was. She had never been more certain of anything. And yet, a piece of her heart remained in the past, with a man who had only just learned what it meant to lead, to love. Connecting the two seemed impossible. Twins. Two different men, and yet one.
“This is… I do not understand. How can I be…?” She turned tear-filled eyes on his face, startled by the confusion in his stare. Old English. She was speaking Old English. She focused on using modern language rather than her tongue for the last six months. “When are we?”
“The year of our lord, eighteen forty-nine.” His voice was the same in either time, that rich baritone—although it lacked its usual emotion.
“Eighteen…” She pressed a hand to her mouth. Nearly seventy years since she’d left him behind. A full six-hundred years since she’d stood side by side with her beloved Passionate survivors. What had become of her loved ones? Of her family? Her throat tightened. “Father…?”
“Passed away twenty-nine years ago. Peacefully.”
She nodded, biting down. Her heart was crying. She knew she’d not see him again when she stepped through time, but being here now, the loss was new. How had it happened? How had she missed so much, been absent for all that mattered? She twisted to the gate shimmering behind her. Six hundred years. Was it possible? Had she been trapped in the gateway all this time? It felt but an instant. Part of her ached to go back. Part of her knew this was where she belonged.
“The battle,” she barely uttered, “we won the battle?”
He circled in front of her and placed a hand on either side of her face. Fierce blue tides wrapped her in their caress, an aching so deep the rest of existence was but a dream. “Are you real?”
The sob caught in her chest escaped. She touched him, running her fingers down his scar, so well healed but a permanent reminder of her place in his life. The fissure. The rift she’d created that altered him forever. Tears cut lines down her cheeks. He was the same in either time. This was her husband. The man she loved. Her heart.
She lifted trembling lips toward his. He closed the distance and cradled the back of her head with a hand, trapping her to him as he took possession of her mouth.
His tears mingled with hers as warmth filled them both. Her chest inflated with the life he brought to her, the life that belonged to them both. His crystal palace, his mental prison burst into existence, and she inhabited the tallest tower with him, looking out over a verdant landscape, a world blooming with the first rays of dawn, hope. She took his hand and her feet left the ground, pulling him with her. They floated into the heavens, hovering over the palace that would never serve as a prison again. From now on, they would fly. Together.
Kiren’s lips left hers. She stared into his eyes, a night sky of constellations and promise.
“As much as I wish to keep you to myself…” He turned and waved a hand at their audience.
Her face flamed. Of course they had an audience.
Nelly squealed and caught her in a rib-bruising hug. Alexia laughed—as soon as she could breathe—and asked, “But you were buried in the earth, with the Soulless.”
“Alexia, child, the earth is my bread. Those creatures are still trapped there, but it could never hold me.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but Sarah’s voice cut her off.
“How is it that the little cook receives the first hug when I came back from death to see you?” The raven-haired beauty uncrossed her arms and stepped forward. Her crimson eyes gave Alexia pause, but this was Sarah. She was alive!
Tears continued to flow as she embraced her sister. Soulless or not, Alexia’s passage through time had accomplished something. Her best friend lived!
One of her best friends.
Miles watched her, his gray eyes far too knowing. She gave him a stern look over Sarah’s shoulder and his gaze dropped. He shrugged apologetically. She released her sister and pulled him into an awkward hug.
“Listen in if you want, you buffoon. There is only happiness in my heart to share.”
He brushed a finger across her cheek and showed her the wetness, tilting his head in an is-that-so? gesture. She shoved him playfully, laughing.
His face had lengthened out, his shoulders were broader, and his skin held a vague glow. Though it had been seventy years, he only looked ten older.
Mae wrapped an arm through hers, and Regin gave her an appreciative nod. Ethel placed a kiss on her cheek while Edward patted her hand, beaming. Lester, Grandfather—the great sneak—approached.
“The Sparrow returns.”
“Careful, old crow, or I shall tell them what your caw truly means.”
He placed a hand on his chest. “Why, Sparrow, methinks you’ve taken one too many punches while runnin’ through time. Mayhaps ye be needin’ to mend.” He waved her toward the last member of the party.
Her smile dropped.
Corona Deiliey.
All grown up. Alexia had missed her baby’s entire life.
The woman stood at Alexia’s height, her eyes a mirror reflection. Her hair was mostly pulled up with ringlets dangling around her face. It was not the uninterpretable tones Alexia had glimpsed in the Soulless cave, but a deep auburn. The red of her father’s bloodline. She was beautiful, exactly as she was meant to be.
“My precious girl…” Alexia reached out, worried about how she’d be received.
Corona’s eyes filled with uncertainty, and she looked to her feet, shifting back and f
orth.
Alexia lifted one of her daughter’s curls. “My heart breaks in pieces when I think of what you have suffered. I am so sorry, my Corona. It killed me to send you away.” She touched her daughter’s cheek and opened her mind, showing her that instant on the battlefield, the gateway glowing in the distance as darkness writhed through the air and the Passionate littered the ground. Tenderly she had placed her child in Ilaria’s arms, barely able to see through her tears.
Corona’s eyes lifted to hers.
“It would have killed you,” Alexia whispered, “for me to keep you. For your father to keep you. My greatest regret is that you grew not knowing how deeply loved you are.” Again, she opened her mind. She showed Corona her birth, the way both she and Kiren had rejoiced. She showed her what might have been if Alexia had chosen to raise her and let the worlds be destroyed. “I am forever sorry.” She pulled her daughter into her embrace and there was no resistance. “I have watched you from inside time. I have seen everything, and I am overwhelmed by your strength and resilience. You are and will always be the most precious thing in this world to me.”
A throat cleared. They pulled apart and there stood Kiren.
“Do go on. At least I know my place now.” He winked.
Alexia grabbed him and pulled him into stilled time. “Husband mine, you are causing me some difficulty now, for I know not whether to spend this moment acquainting myself with my daughter, or kissing you senseless.”
“Well, as you have been so kind as to suspend the moment…”
She laughed. “Precisely.”
Timeless (Maiden Of Time Book 3) Page 28