by Josie Gold
“She’s a rather comfortable fit, actually,” Destruction said using my sister’s voice. The words were clipped and cultured, almost friendly. But only malice shone from those burning eyes.
“Get. Out,” Harken said at my side, wind swirling aggressively around her. Destruction tsked, cocking their head at Harken’s display of power.
“I’ve only done as she asked. I will make her a formidable queen.”
“All for the price of being your slave,” Kylarn growled, trembling in rage. Destruction sucked their teeth, the sound was dismissive.
“A fair price, I think,” Destruction smiled at us, all teeth and glee.
“You don’t want to help Kartheya,” Harken said. “You don’t want to serve anyone.”
Destruction’s eyes locked onto her. For a moment, their features softened, looking more like my sister again.
“You,” Destruction said with a low grumble, “remind me of my wife. So filled with passion.”
Destruction’s face twisted with wrath and the room began to rumble. The stone above us and beneath us began to shift.
“My wife and the other Gods imprisoned me,” Destruction growled. “And after I have killed you and taken this damned building apart, I will destroy everything in my path until the Gods are forced to return. And I will reap my vengeance upon them.”
Destruction was going to kill everyone and everything.
Kylarn bellowed and ran at Destruction, black sword raised. My heart leaped into my chest as he swung inches from Karsea’s chest. Destruction merely side-stepped, laughing as every one of Kylarn’s swings missed.
“Now, now,” Destruction admonished playfully, “Princess Karsea is still in here. She won’t last long as my vessel if you keep that up.”
The rumbling became louder as the roof above us collapsed. Tons and tons of ancient rock came right for us. I flung my hands up, reaching for the power I had taken from Highlar. Nets of magic emerged, forming a spiderweb of green light that caught the stones before they could crush us.
I trembled, sweat pouring down my face. I was untrained. I didn’t know how to master my magic yet and I could already feel my power waning. Harken and Torra joined Kylarn in the fray, sending waves of wind and fire at Destruction, who was laughing uproariously now.
I saw Destruction hurl Harken away. She landed in front of me. She gazed up at me, blood coating the left side of her face.
Oh, Gods. I’m in love with her. Utterly, utterly in love.
I had been for a while now, but I was too afraid to admit it. In those last moments, my mind whirled, trying to pinpoint when I first fell in love with her. Maybe it was when she entered the masque looking like a beautiful, feral earth goddess. Maybe it was when I pressed her against the wall of the Forbidden Section and made her moan.
But it didn’t matter, did it? I loved her fully, irrationally, and bindingly.
And I would never have the chance to tell her. The only comfort was she would be here with me now and in the next plane. The only comfort was that her face would be the last thing I saw.
Green eyes met golden one last time as my magic gave way and the ancient stones hurtled toward us.
19
HARKEN
I saw how it would all play out within my mind. The stones would crush us, the Library would be destroyed, and Destruction would be released upon Kartheya, and then the rest of the kingdoms of Vivus. He would kill and ruin until the four Old Gods would be forced to return. Vivus would be reduced to a battleground.
I stared into Fennion’s eyes, as pale and green as seafoam, and prayed.
Don’t let it end, not when I have finally found a new beginning.
The rocks didn’t fall on us. The rumbling of the Library vanished. The dark, baleful presence of Destruction diminished. I stood and looked around. Fennion and my companions were frozen in place, unblinking and unmoving. I craned my head up, gawking at the rocks suspended in the air.
Time stood still.
A different feeling came over me. Something mercurial and mischievous was making itself known to me and it left me feeling oddly confident and unrestrained. I gazed into the still shadows as a figure emerged slowly. From what I could see of their silhouette, they were short. Young.
The figure came into the light, smiling impishly at me. I staggered away, a hand flying to my mouth. The figure was a girl, no older than 11 summers. She had messy ash blonde hair and a pixie face covered in freckles.
“Larka,” I gasped, my voice strangled.
Larka wore the same gauzy yellow gown that had burned with her on the pyre. She smiled at me, but as she came closer, I realized something was off. My Larka had deep hazel eyes. Whoever this was, their eyes shifted constantly. From green to black to red, as if she couldn’t decide on a color.
The girl stopped in front of me, peering at me with Larka’s face and smile.
“Who are you?” I demanded.
“I’ve had many names,” Not-Larka said, walking around me to peer at the room. She paused by Fennion, touching his frozen head with affection.
“But most called me Eris,” the little girl said with a teasing curtsy.
“How are you doing this?”
“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” Eris giggled, bouncing on her toes. “This is my Library. My last gift to humanity.”
“Gift?” I echoed, the words snagging in my mind. What did the swampling say?
“You smell like books, and magic, and chaos. The House of Eris.”
Eris smiled wide as I took a step away from her. I found myself on my knees, my breath stuttering in my lungs.
“Goddess of Chaos,” I breathed reverently. Eris tutted, suddenly in front of me again. She took my arms and pulled me up. She was much stronger than a little girl should be.
“None of that,” Eris snapped, suddenly exasperated, “we don’t have time for nonsense.”
“I don’t understand,” I babbled, wringing my hands. “You left our world.”
“And we left behind gifts,” Eris rolled her eyes, still annoyed, “and I left the Library.”
“A Library?” I asked skeptically. Of all the Celestial gifts, a library seemed like the least likely for the Goddess of Chaos to create.
Eris’ expression changed. She brightened.
“What is more chaotic than an idea?” she mused. “What spreads faster and causes more dissent than an idea? And what is a Library, if not a house of ideas?”
I thought about the ever-changing Library, about the building’s mischievous and spiteful ways.
“I am the strongest of the five Old Gods,” Eris didn’t say it smugly, only as a fact, “and so only my Library can hold Nergal, God of Destruction.”
“Can you help us stop Destruction from escaping?” I asked.
Eris’ face fell. She wandered toward where Destruction stood, frozen in his fight with Kylarn. She touched Destruction’s chest and shook her head.
“He was my friend,” Eris whispered to herself, “and I weep every day at his choices.
“Can you help?” my voice rose. Eris looked over her shoulder, eyes narrowed at my rudeness. The lines around her blurred and her power rose. This being was beyond my understanding and the reminder made my bones go watery.
“I am no longer of your realm. I am merely a fragment of the Goddess, the soul of the Library. I don’t have enough magic to help you.”
My stomach sank.
“But you do,” Eris glanced over at me, her capricious eyes grave, “you and your man do.”
I looked over at Fennion. He was calm in the face of death. I itched to be held by him, to kiss him one more time.
“We’ve used our power against Destruction. It’s not enough,” I argued helplessly.
Eris sighed and skipped over to me. My heart heaved at the sight of the blonde hair bouncing. Seeing Larka again was both torture and a blessing. Eris stopped directly in front of me and pressed her little hand to my heart.
“You have carried guilt and
shame for too long,” Eris sing-songed. “It’s nearly rotted you from the inside out. It’s kept you from your true potential.”
Torra said something similar. That I was strong, but part of my power remained untapped, held back. By my guilt, my shame.
“It’s time to let it go,” Eris’ eyes were tender. I took a step back, shaking my head hard.
“I can’t,” I choked, “I killed you. I killed Larka.”
“You made her fly,” Eris insisted, “Larka’s last moments were full of joy. How many mortals can say that?”
“I killed her!” I shouted, tears gathering in my eyes.
I could still smell the hot scent of blood as it turned her hair blonde to red. I could still hear the awful wailing of Larka’s Da as he held her broken body in his lap.
“And you cannot change what happened,” Eris nodded sagely, “but do you really think Larka would want you to be afraid of your magic—”
“I’m not afraid—”
“Would she want you to live like a specter, haunted by a tragedy that wasn’t your fault?”
“But she’s dead,” I whimpered, “I loved her so much. And she’s dead.”
Eris reached up and I met her halfway, closing my eyes as her palm touched my cheek. It was warm and calloused, just like I remembered.
“Forgive yourself. Larka already has.”
I whined deep in my throat.
“How could you know that?”
“If I can pierce the veil of time and the cosmos to speak to you,” Eris said low, “then I can see into the hearts of mortals. She still loves you. She never blamed you.
I didn’t want to believe Eris. I craved the anger and the shame. It was an armor and a blanket around me, keeping me company for the last 12 summers. Letting go of my grief and self-hatred felt like letting go of Larka. My pain was a reminder of my love for her.
“It won’t happen all at once,” Eris touched a single finger to the center of my ribs, “but deciding to forgive yourself is the first step. If you want to save your man, and your world, reach for your true magic. Move on. Embrace who you are.”
“Who am I?” I wondered, voice small and childlike.
“I don’t know yet. All your life you’ve been defined by what you’re not. Not a politician or a courtier. Not a good daughter, mage, or Librarian. But whatever you decide to be, I cannot wait to see it.”
“Why,” I swallowed hard and tried again. “Why did the Gods gift me with magic? What did they see in me?”
Eris peered at me with a queer expression. Somewhere between puzzlement and fondness.
“Why not? We saw something in you, perhaps something wondrous, or perhaps something awful. We give you the gifts and you decide how you use them. That’s all that matters.”
Eris danced away, twirling on the spot, her dress whirling around her.
“If you take away Destruction’s willing vessel, he will still be bound to the Library,” Eris said almost casually.
I mulled the words over as I watched Eris dance around the room, jumping over fallen rocks gleefully. Watching her filled me with melancholy. Tears streamed down my face. I looked around at my friends. I looked at Fennion. Fennion, who reminded me so much of my dead friend.
“It wasn’t your fault”, Fennion had said as he held me close. He knew my secret and loved me more for it.
He loved me. The realization made my heart hammer. He loved me for all my good and my bad. He did not love me for what I could give him or who I could become. He loved me simply and without an agenda. He loved me despite his own ghosts. I didn’t feel worthy of it. But looking at him now, ready to die as long as the last thing he saw was me, I felt something shift behind my ribs.
I thought again of Larka. Not her hair burning on the pyre, or her broken body. But of her face as she flew into the air. The joy and love in her eyes as she whooped and laughed.
I thought of what Eris said, about most mortals dying without dignity and in fear. Not once did Larka cry out in pain or fear as she fell. As far as she knew, she never fell at all. Larka simply flew from one plane of existence to the next, a laugh on her lips.
The gray, leaking ooze that had festered inside me—that had filled me up until I was a cold, specter in a cloak of grief—started to melt away. As it did, I felt something unlock from deep within me. An effervescence that filled me with hope.
I felt myself smiling even as I continued to cry. The light that shone from within me wasn’t new at all. It was simply unleashed. It didn’t burn away all the guilt, but it felt like a start. It didn’t feel like forgetting the past, but instead like welcoming something new. Something warmer and better.
I took my spot in front of Fennion, where I had been when Eris had stopped time.
I looked over my shoulder at Eris, who was watching me with a wide grin.
“Tell Larka I love her. And I will see her again.”
Eris inclined her head solemnly, then snapped her fingers. The world came rushing back.
FENNION
Harken gazed up at me and smiled as blood dripped down her face. The smile wasn’t wide or full of teeth. But it was genuine, incandescent, exhilarated.
She stood and spread her arms wide.
And still holding my eyes, she began to float. Her feet left the ground, her tunic billowed. Her hair hovered above her head, as flickering and bright as a candle.
Jets of winds erupted from her as she rose higher into the air. The wind caught the falling rocks, pressing them back into the ceiling.
Kylarn and Torra stopped fighting to watch. Even Destruction paused.
Harken gazed down at me, her eyes serene. Her palms opened and her fingers flicked. Above us, came another rumble. But this time it was thunder. Clouds, miraculous and impossible, gathered on the ceiling, gold lighting spewing out of them. Harken began to glow as bright as the lightning.
She flicked her fingers again and lightning flew toward Destruction, knocking them off their feet.
Still hovering in the air, Harken reached out for me. I took her hand and pulled her back down to earth. Above us, the wind continued to hold the ceiling up, but Harken no longer needed to direct it. She had willed it to continue. The kind of strength magic like that took…
“So you’re a weather mage now?” I asked a little hysterically. She just smiled at me and kissed me softly.
“I know how to stop them,” she said against my lips, “I need you to be brave.”
“Tell me.”
Destruction had returned to their feet and continued to fight Kylarn and Torra. Destruction seemed rattled, staring at Harken and me as they fought.
“Take some of my power,” Harken said, eyes shining. I balked.
“I hurt you—”
“You won’t this time. Not if I give it to you,” Harken’s voice was confident. She touched my face gently.
“I trust you,” she said, kissing me again. I kissed her back and I felt her magic pressing invitingly against mine. My veins thrummed as I carefully siphoned from her power.
It was different than last time. Last time, it was a rush of pure power. But this time, it felt gentle. Like holding someone’s hand. She gave and I accepted. It was still heady, but I felt more in control. I took as much as she was willing to give and when she pulled away, I felt full of her power.
“We need to pin Destruction down so you can take Karsea’s energy from her,” Harken said, summoning lightning to her. It crawled down her sleeves to her hands, becoming two swords of pure electricity.
“If Karsea isn’t strong enough to be a vessel, then Destruction will be forced to leave her body. Without a body, he cannot leave the Library,” Harken said.
“How do you know?”
“I just do. Do you trust me?”
I did. More than anyone. I embraced Harken one more time, then dug deep inside myself, and willed my power. It came easier to me. Using Harken’s willing energy didn’t exhaust me. It invigorated me.
Above us, it began to rain.
Destruction had both Kylarn and Torra writhing on the ground. Their bones were snapping as Destruction waved their hands, like a conductor during a concert. I sent out my will. Spears of green magic shot toward Destruction. Distracted by torturing my friends, Destruction was hit straight on.
They stumbled back and snarled at me, their orange eyes flashing. They raised their hand, but Harken was already there, flying through the air and slashing at them with her lightning swords. While Destruction was busy blocking her blows, I reached out with my will, causing the floor beneath Destruction’s feet to melt. Destruction bellowed as they sank into the ground to their waist.
Harken launched herself at Destruction’s back, making chains of lighting to wrap around Destruction’s wrists. I strode toward them and manifested ropes to wrap around them. Destruction screamed and fought our binds. They flung the lightning away from them, so I tightened my magic. I heard Karsea’s ribs cracking. I hesitated in front of Destruction.
Harken floated toward me, touching my shoulder. She gave me more of her energy. It stopped raining and she sank back down to earth, no longer strong enough to fly. But she looked at me with total trust in her eyes. I pulled away and kneeled in front of Destruction. They raged and spat, trying to get loose from my magic.
“Karsea,” I said, taking her face in my hands. Destruction fought me hard. I willed strength into my arms and kept my grip on my sister’s face.
“I’m sorry,” I stroked Karsea’s face, “I’m sorry this world made you believe kindness was not a strength.”
For a moment, Destruction stopped struggling. Their eyes faded to soft brown. My sister smiled at me, melancholy and understanding as her eyes turned the color of flames again.
“She’s weak,” Destruction spat, “but not as weak as you, halfling. Useless Prince.”
“I’m sorry your wife and friends left you,” I murmured, “but I cannot let you destroy my world.”
I pressed my hands hard to Destruction’s face and took. The power was overwhelming. It burnt the blood in my veins and made my stomach boil. But I continue to take. Destruction began to shriek wildly, fighting as hard as they could. Already, their strength was waning as I pulled their power into me.