He made a face as he looked across the darkening living room.
Shit. It’ll be night soon. I’d bet my life on the malevolenci opening more rifts tonight. We only have a few hours before it all starts again.
Owen kissed where Esme’s silver hair faded to her natural brown, and he saw her smile where her face rested on his side.
“Okay, alterni. Out with it. What did you see?”
Esme swallowed and looked up at her ceiling, apparently glad she didn’t have to face him. “I don’t know how to ease into this, Owen.”
“Okay. So rip the Band-Aid.”
She paused. “The origini were the creators of the alt-worlds.”
Owen froze in shock, but he kept his mouth shut and let her continue.
“And it gets weirder. The malevolenci – the real malevolenci, not just their demons – they were our creators too.”
He couldn’t keep quiet at this. “Wait, what? You’re telling me the malevolenci created us? You’re sure? You saw all this in Trent’s memories?”
“Yeah. It was confusing, but I’m sure. The creators of the alt-worlds – our gods, really – are at war.” She took a breath to explain. “Their world is the original, Owen. They had so much magic… It’s not ‘creation magic’ but ‘creator magic.’ They used a giant crystal Pyramid to create the alt-worlds. They cast a copy of their own world through the Triangle, then used their magic to tweak and alter the baby world. It was amazing. But eventually, they used up their magic because they created too much without being careful. It drained their world of magic and turned it into…”
“They turned it into the hell we now know as the malevolenci world.”
“Yeah…” Esme took another breath. “In order to restore their world, most of the creators decided to use the Pyramid to extract magic from the alt-worlds. But taking back the magic of creation destroyed the alt-worlds. Most of the gods didn’t care, but others rebelled. The rebels came up with a plan and used the Pyramid to spread themselves throughout the alt-worlds. The last one out broke the Pyramid so the destroyers wouldn’t be able to kill any more worlds.”
“The rebels sent themselves to the alt-worlds?”
She nodded. “They did that so the conjuri could summon them for help to defend this world. See, since this Sanctuary world – that’s what they called it – had the most magic, the rebels knew the destroyers would try to invade and take control here. They knew the destroyers could use this world’s magic to restore their ability to steal other worlds’ magic.”
That makes sense with what I always knew. We always thought the summono chose an origini at random. But really, these rebel gods set it up so they’d be brought here to fight for us.
“So,” he thought aloud, “these evil gods – the real malevolenci – want this world because it holds so much magic. That’s like what we’ve always been told.” Owen felt a chill. “Although knowing we’re fighting our own gods changes everything.”
“Yeah. The origini knew that even without the Pyramid, the malevolenci could still open rifts into this world. But the leader of the rebellion – Ares, or as we called him, Omet – created a curse so that any god who came to this world would lose their immortality. The destroyers must’ve realized that early on, and that’s why they’ve used their demons to invade instead of coming themselves.”
Owen’s mind was racing. “So what does this mean about you alterni?”
Esme paused. “The alterni – all of us – were created as copies of the origini. Before they escaped through the Pyramid, they cast a spell that made us pop into existence once every generation while our origini lived. Then, once an origini was summoned here to fight, that origini’s current generation of alterni became the pool from which the conjuri could summon alterni.”
Holy fairy dust.
Esme swallowed. “They created us so they could prolong the fight against the destroyers. We alterni, as copies of the origini, also had their creator magic, so we could fight just like them. We’re connected to each other and to our origini most of all, so that’s why… That’s why each alterni endi ends up with the strongest magic – we hold all of our origini’s creator magic. It’s not just a cycle thing like the conjuri have always taught us.”
“It’s because you’re created in the image of a god, and once that god is gone, you carry all their power.” Owen tried to think. “If the origini use their creator magic, and you alterni use their creator magic, that explains how you guys use magic the rest of us can’t touch. But why do you need the castorcas to access the magic if you’re…mini-gods?”
“I didn’t see any memories explaining that, but my guess is that an early origini designed them. The origini gave their magic to this world when they were summoned, so they needed a way to reconnect and control it again. Maybe the castorcas are the best way to re-harness creator magic so we can use it as its true masters again.”
Owen tried to control his breathing so she didn’t feel his anxiety as she lay against him. “The rest of us have doppelgangers throughout the alt-worlds, but you alterni…you’re something completely different.”
Esme flinched.
Damn it. Wrong thing to say. But holy fairy dust!
He kissed the side of her head. “I can’t imagine what this must be like for you. You okay?”
She took a breath. “There’s more.”
Shit.
“There were one hundred creators who rebelled. But there were a thousand gods total. That’s why the origini had to create copies of themselves – they knew they’d never last long enough to defeat so many destroyers.”
“One hundred good gods versus nine hundred bad gods. Yeah, those aren’t great odds.”
She paused. “It’s worse. When the origini tried to flee their world, twenty of them were either captured or killed. Only eighty made it out. Trent was one of the last.”
This took a moment, then Owen felt a chill. He looked down at her. “Wait. You mean there were only eighty origini? You… I’m the eightieth king since this started. Your Esme origini was the eightieth origini to come to us. Are you saying she was the last one?”
Esme nodded against his shoulder, still looking at the ceiling. “Trent knew he was the second to last, and that’s why he went through the trouble of leaving me these memories. He went into the malevolenci world and killed destroyers too. He hid what he was doing because he didn’t trust Roman.”
Owen remembered Trent’s relationship with Roman and knew she was right.
“Trent didn’t think my origini would agree about opening rifts either,” Esme continued. “He didn’t think she’d accept it was the only way. But he truly believed it was the best way to finish the destroyers, and that’s what he wanted me to do…if she failed to stop the malevolenci and this was all left to me.”
Owen felt his heart racing. “You’re the last alterni endi. If we lose…”
“Yeah.” Esme snuggled her body into his for comfort. “When the origini set this up, they hoped the malevolenci would drain themselves of power and die off first. But I think the malevolenci got smart and found ways around the disadvantage of not having the Pyramid.”
Owen nodded. “These murderous gods must be the ones who get into the alt-worlds and kill the alterni.” He scowled in thought. “If the malevolenci can’t get into other worlds without the Pyramid, then how’ve they been able to get in and kill alterni?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. The Pyramid had four sides, and each side led into a different entry point in the alt-worlds. From what I saw in Trent’s memories, I’m pretty sure one of the sides connected with the Bermuda Triangles. My guess is that the destroyers used some of their remaining magic to repair that side of the Pyramid. Obviously they couldn’t fix the whole Pyramid, or they would’ve drained the alt-worlds by now. And I don’t think they got the Triangle side of the Pyramid working perfectly either, since we know they’re weakened when they enter the alt-worlds. We know they can’t get back out again.”
Owen had a thought and raised an eyebrow. “That’s depleted their numbers, then. If these destroyers go through the Triangles to kill your alterni and get stuck in the alt-worlds, that means a lot of them have gotten stuck.”
“Yes and no. Trent suspected the destroyers used the Triangles to get into the alt-worlds and hunt them, yes. But I don’t think the destroyers kept sending assassins.”
Owen understood. “Once they were in the alt-worlds, they were still immortal. That means they could hunt each new generation of alterni. They must sense the alterni’s creator magic like you sense the rifts opening. Right?”
“Yeah. But at least the destroyers still in the malevolenci world have created so many demons that they must’ve used most of their remaining magic. I’m sure many of them have drained themselves and died.”
“You didn’t see in Trent’s memories how many were left?”
“No. I know he was fighting and killing them on their own turf, but I’m not sure even he knew how many were left.”
They paused to think.
Esme sighed again. “The origini wrote letters to leave for those who came after them, you know. Roman hid them, of course, but that’s how the Master Conjuri have always known the truth. Ada showed me the collection of letters before we left the Capiti. I’ll have to read them as soon as I can, but I was so tired when we got back. And honestly, I can’t take anything more right now. But…I did read my origini’s letter.”
Owen had a thought – one he’d been pushing aside for some time – and suddenly was very uncomfortable.
The origini Esme knew all this. She was a goddess… How could she not tell me? She knew how serious this was! Trent sure did everything he could to prepare us.
The version of Esme lying beside him squirmed. “According to what I saw in Trent’s memories, the first origini ordered everyone to hide the truth to spare the Order all this drama. I think he also wrote in his letter how many rebels made it out. I think that’s why Trent was so sure my origini would know she was the last.” Esme turned her face farther toward the couch to avoid Owen’s gaze. “As the eightieth origini, she didn’t write to them…or even me. She wrote her letter to you.”
Owen held his breath.
Esme squirmed. “Do you want to know what it said? My crazy brain couldn’t help but memorize it. But if you’d rather read it privately later…”
“No.” He swallowed. “If you don’t mind, I don’t think I can wait.”
Esme nodded and struggled to sit up. “It’s too weird if I quote it to you. I’ll write it down so you can read it.”
She avoided eye contact and scrambled off the couch, then walked out of the living room. Owen sat up, put his feet on the floor, and leaned his elbows on his thighs with a heavy sigh.
This is so weird. But I have to know what the origini wanted to say to me.
He wasn’t left alone with his thoughts for long. He heard a creak in the floor and turned to see Esme re-enter the living room. She turned up a lamp as she entered, and Owen saw she carried one of her notepads that she usually drew in. She sat beside him and flipped to an empty page, writing quickly. Again, she avoided eye contact.
This must be weirder for her than for me.
He balked. “I’m sorry. If you’d rather I read the original letter for myself later–”
“No, I understand. I’d be impatient about this too.” Esme finished writing and handed him the notepad.
Owen held the copied letter and took a breath before allowing himself to read.
Dearest Owen,
If you’re reading this, that means I’ve failed. As I write this, however, I’m optimistic. The Sanctuary’s magic has never been stronger in defending us – Ares was a genius all those years ago when he set in place the curse that would take our immortality and give our magic to this world. Now that my seventy-nine fellow rebels are gone, their magic remains to shield this Sanctuary.
That also means this world is full of magic to tempt the destroyers – or, as you call them, the malevolenci. Honestly, I think strengthening that temptation has worked in our favor. Their greed has led to impatience, and that means they’re too crazed to wait out my eventual death. They want this world now, so they’ve made mistakes that have cost them. We know that some time ago they found ways through the Triangles to murder our alterni, but in doing so they’ve weakened their numbers. And we know that they’ve created thousands upon thousands of demons, draining their world of its last magic and also draining themselves to death, I have no doubt. Plus, I’ve learned that creating a bentaforx completely drains a destroyer’s magic, so for every bentaforx, one destroyer has sacrificed their life for this war. That’s why the bentaforx are so rare.
The destroyers’ numbers must be low. I think that’s another reason they’re attacking more ferociously than ever – they’re as close to losing the war as we are. If they can kill me and my alterni now, they can take the Sanctuary’s magic in time to save the few who’ve survived. If they wait until I die naturally, it might be too late for them.
They know I’m the last rebel alive, but I think they’re scared too. We’re winning. If I can hold out and destroy their monsters, we might still have a shot at saving the alt-worlds without having to resort to what Trent thought was the only way.
If I fail, however, you’ll need to protect my alterni. They’ll be your last defense against the rifts, the last beings in existence with the ability to control our creator magic. My strength will pass to them, and I ever so humbly believe that will be enough.
Please, my love, do everything you can to keep my alterni alive. I can only hope they do the same for you. You’ll be the last king of this war, win or lose. I’m so proud of the man you’ve become. And I don’t mean that as one of your creators – I mean I’m proud to have been the woman you loved.
With all my heart, I wish you a long and prosperous life.
Yours,
Artemis
Owen set the notepad on the ottoman in front of him and leaned back on the couch. “Artemis? Goddess of Hunting and Animals and all that? She was your origini?”
“Yeah. And Trent was Janus. Omet was Ares. Your father’s origini was Vulcan. I think I could figure out the rest if I compare Trent’s memories to the stories in the Chronicles.”
They were silent for a long moment.
“How could she not tell me the truth?”
Esme sighed. “I’ve been wondering the same thing. Trent seemed to think she’d agree with Omet’s rule of silence. And maybe she agreed with Roman and was trying to keep you sane and strong. I don’t know. I might look like her, but I don’t understand her… She was a freakin’ goddess.”
He stared at the notepad in fury. “She should’ve told me.”
“I’m so sorry, Owen.”
He looked back at her with a sad smile and lifted an arm so she snuggled against him again. “You, my love, have nothing to be sorry for.”
Esme turned her face to look up at him. Her mouth twitched with a smile. “You said ‘love’ again. The first time, you yelled about it at the paranormals.”
“Yeah…” He grinned. “Sorry I haven’t gotten around to saying it to you sooner.”
“It’s fine, your royal lordship.” She kissed his cheek. “I love you, too.”
He sighed. “When you’re up for it, I’d really like to hear everything you saw. But for now, this is plenty to digest. And it does help us. You can open a rift now into their world. You know who we’re facing. Did you see enough to know what to expect on the other side?”
She nodded. “It won’t be easy, but… But I think we can do this.”
Despite everything horrible going on, Owen felt at peace. Sitting here, in her living room, felt absolutely right.
Never mind that my Master Conjuri’s been murdered. Never mind that the gods who created us are trying to kill us. And one of the good gods was my first love who lied to me the whole time. And now Esme and I are the last ones fighting for the gods who died
trying to save all of creation. Plus, the fairies and probably some others are rebelling against the Order. And I have to convince our cavali to go fight gods in hell… Yeah, no stress here.
He looked down at his partner. “Would it be horribly inappropriate to have sex right now?”
Esme turned her head and smiled.
Esme glared at the new rift. The pull of rift-gravity had woken her from a dead sleep beside Owen, and the nausea she experienced from the sensation was unusually strong. She blamed that partially on physical exhaustion weakening her system, but this was also a bigger than average rift.
“Spread out!” Loukas ordered his men.
The black-clad cavali swung out from the trucks and picked their way down the hill that ran along The Paseo. Conjuri had already arrived and cast illuso spells to hide the rift from anyone driving by, and Esme saw the glowing symbols where they burned on the pavement along the road. She stepped over one of these and ventured down the weed-covered hill. Cavali spread out on either side of her as the whole squad approached the rift at the bottom of the hill.
A crumbling old building covered in graffiti stood behind the rift. It must’ve been an impressive structure when intact, but clearly this place hadn’t been used for years. The trees around the site were stiff with winter. The dirt under Esme’s boots was dry and crunchy, and an occasional brick or chunk of cement poked up between the weeds.
Owen came to stand beside her, and he whistled to Loukas where the big man stood with his gun aimed at the rift. “Any movement?”
“Not since the scouts discovered this thing.” Loukas glanced back at the king. “I’ve got a team sweeping the surrounding area for demons in case any snuck through.”
Esme glared at the rift, which was spouting black smoke that flaked to the ground. But there was no sign of malevolenci so far.
Owen nodded to Loukas and returned his focus to the rift. “Be ready. As soon as Esme closes this one, another will open.”
This is old hat now, thought Esme with exhausted annoyance.
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