“I only have one requirement.”
“Anything.”
“The Orb can’t be destroyed until all four elements are in place. I know it’s tempting to keep it, but once we find the other two elements…I want you to promise me we’ll destroy the damn thing.”
Isadora’s smile widened. “We?”
Orpheus clenched his jaw, because, yeah, being a son-ofabitch was easy. Being heroic…that was a hell of a lot of work. “Yeah, ‘we.’ I’ll take Gryphon’s place with the Argonauts. Until,” he added, cutting off Isadora’s burst of excitement, “Gryphon’s ready to come back.”
Isadora stepped away from the desk in her father’s old office in the castle at Tiyrns. “Orpheus, you are welcome to stay on with the Argonauts for however long you want.” She placed her hand on his forearm. Right over the ancient Greek text. “You don’t need the markings of the gods to do that.”
“These markings don’t come from the gods,” he said, looking down at her. Still stunned that she’d been able to see the good in him before anyone else.
She squeezed his arm. “I think you might be right.”
He nodded toward the Orb in Theron’s hands. “What about that?”
“That,” Isadora answered, “will be locked up safe and sound. And when we have the other two elements, it will be destroyed. Just like you want. It won’t fall into the wrong hands.”
Orpheus nodded. Glanced from Theron to Demetrius. Neither said anything, but the fatherly grin on Theron’s face and the humor in Demetrius’s eyes told him they were both relieved. And thankful.
And skata…he needed to get gone before they did something stupid. Like congratulate him or try to hug him or some shit like that. He definitely couldn’t handle any male bonding right now.
He turned for the door, then stopped. “There’s one more thing. I’ll serve with the Argonauts whenever they need me. But I won’t live here in Argolea.”
Isadora’s sad smile said she could still see right through him. “I think it’s smart you stay at the colony with Gryphon. Your brother needs you there.”
Orpheus wasn’t so sure of that. He’d gone to see Gryphon first, before coming back to Argolea, and though his brother had awoken from the sedatives Callia had given him and seemed calm, he was but a shell of what Orpheus remembered. Gone was the easygoing, strong, and confident Argonaut who’d forever been trying to set Orpheus on the right path. In his place lurked a haunted and broken man who did nothing but stare out the window with vacant eyes, shake his head as if he was hearing voices, and twitch.
Gryphon’s time in the Underworld was too fresh. Orpheus had to hold on to hope that time and distance would bring back the brother he remembered.
He nodded once more and left the room, heading down the hall for the front of the castle. There were a few things he wanted to pick up from his store on the other side of town. A few things he hoped might cheer his brother up.
“Orpheus, wait.”
His feet stilled and he looked back to see Isadora rushing after him. “What now, Isa?”
“I just…” She took a breath, and when she looked up it wasn’t gratitude in her eyes, nor surprise. It was worry. “Are you okay?”
He thought of Skyla—as he had every minute since she’d left him—and his attempt to bring her back. The Fates weren’t listening though, and while he could access just about any realm with his magic, the land of the Fates was closed to him. They made contact when they wanted, not when others summoned them.
A thrumming pain radiated outward from his chest. Knowing she was gone and never coming back was something he was just going to have to get used to. But it hurt. More than he’d ever thought possible. The only thing that kept him going was the thought that one day, if he cleaned up his act enough, he just might see her again.
Be greater.
He was working on it. But damn, it was hard.
“Yeah,” he said, drawing a deep breath that eased the ache just a touch. “I’m okay. For the first time in a long time, Isa, I’m exactly what I’m supposed to be.”
“You hesitate, child. Is there a problem?”
Skyla paused at the steps of the white ship. The one with big billowing green sails that would take her to the Isles of the Blessed, where the souls of the heroes and those who had proven themselves in life dwelt in harmony.
A bright light shone far off in the distance, casting a sparkle over the water like a million tiny diamonds. She wanted to go. Felt the pull all the way to her toes. But something held her back.
She faced the Fate standing at her side—Atropos, she’d heard her called—the one with salt-and-pepper hair and a long, flowing white robe. “I—I feel like I’m forgetting something. Something I’m not supposed to forget.”
Atropos frowned and looked at her sister. The white-haired Lachesis. “This is your fault, hag.”
“Not mine.” Lachesis grinned. “Blame Hera. She’s responsible for the soul-mate curse.”
Skyla had no idea what they were talking about. She looked from weathered face to weathered face and knew only one thing: The hole in her heart hurt. A pain she shouldn’t have. Not when she was about to sail off to paradise.
“If you do this,” Atropos said with a scowl, “you do so without my blessing.”
“Now, sister hag.” Lachesis cut her a look. “Have I ever needed your blessing before?”
Atropos harrumphed. “It is because of you this problem exists.”
“And I will set it right.” Lachesis turned to Skyla. “What if you could go back?”
“Go back?” Skyla’s brow dropped. “I don’t under—”
“To the human realm.”
The human realm. Skyla’s mind spun. Yes. She’d been human, hadn’t she?
“Not everyone gets this choice—”
“No one gets this choice,” Atropos mumbled, arms crossed over her chest.
“—but you are special.” Lachesis darted a glare at her sister before refocusing on Skyla. “You sacrificed your life for another.”
“I did?” Skyla couldn’t remember. “Who?”
“That you can’t tell her,” Atropos snapped. “If she goes back, she has to make the choice not knowing what she’s going back to.”
Lachesis sighed. “She’s right. There are rules. Rules even I can’t break. You have to make the decision not knowing the life you led before.”
“Or what’s waiting for you,” Atropos added. “Could be a child molester or a rapist you’re missing.”
Lachesis frowned at her sister again. “Or it could be a king.”
Atropos harrumphed. “Kings are useless.”
“Regardless,” Lachesis said, looking at Skyla again, “you have to make the decision based on what’s before you.” She held out her arm. “The Isles of the Blessed, or what you are afraid to forget.”
The sparkling light on the horizon called to Skyla. But the Fates’ options…How could she make that decision? She tried to rationalize it and came up with only one scenario that made sense. “If I’m here, then it means I led a good life.”
“Not necessarily,” Lachesis answered. “But one can redeem herself in her last moment and counteract all the wrong she did before.”
“Stupid loophole,” Atropos muttered.
“By saving a life.” The emptiness in Skyla’s chest grew larger. Until she was afraid it would swallow her whole. “If I go on the ship…”
“Then the pain you feel will disappear,” Atropos said. “And you’ll be free—mind, body, and soul. No more suffering, no more loneliness, no more hurting. The Isles of the Blessed are Elysium. Heaven.”
“But I’ll forget,” Skyla clarified.
“Yes,” Lachesis said before Atropos could answer. “You will forget.”