Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 125422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
I think about that for a moment. If there’s no city, then everyone would just populate Tuonela like normal people would populate a land. They would live in the Frozen Void, or the Hiisi Forest. Build a houseboat community in the Great Inland Sea. Old people could turn the Liekkiö Plains into the next Palm Springs, complete with subdivisions and a golf course. Just give them all fire extinguishers for the occasional attack from flaming demon children.
It would take care of the problem that Lovia, and Tuonen, had before everything went to shit. They didn’t want to spend their lives ferrying the dead. But if now all they have to do is cross the River of Shadows to the other side and drop them off to start a new life…they could even build a bridge. Tuonen would be so happy, if he were alive.
“Tuonen will come back,” the Magician says, reading me. “If you use up the rest of your power to turn the tide, then I will become the eternal judgement of the void.”
“I’m sorry it has to come to this, Hanna,” my mother says. She sounds about as sorry as she ever will, but that’s not saying a lot. “It is a loss.”
“I don’t mind giving up my power,” I tell her honestly. “It’s not a sacrifice. I’m not a warrior princess like Lovia. I don’t see the need to have the ability to blast people and set them on fire in my day to day life.”
Knock on wood.
“You might not lose all of it, either,” she adds. “You might always have a touch of it embedded in you.”
So I might end up being a glorified night light after all.
“Okay,” I say, a wave of anxiety rushing over me. “So how do we do this? Is this going to hurt?”
“It won’t hurt,” she says.
I look at the Magician. “And it won’t hurt you?”
He shakes his head. “This is my evolution. I am progressing to the next level.”
And that’s when I think of Lovia. Fuck, it’s going to hurt the hell out of her, isn’t it? From the downward tilt of a shooting star on his face, I know he’s thinking that too.
“None of us start out perfect,” the Magician says. “We are all learning to become the things we need to become. This is our evolution, Hanna. This is the progression of the realm, of the afterlife. Sacrifice is often necessary when the change is for the best.”
“Are you ready to become something again for the greater good?” my mother asks me.
I take in a deep breath and square my shoulders. “Absolutely.” I pause. “Wait. What am I becoming?”
“You, Hanna,” she says with a gentle smile. “You are becoming you.”
CHAPTER 41
DEATH
The gardens of Shadow’s End are a place of shattered grandeur—cracked stone paths winding between overgrown hedges and thorny roses as black as coal. The castle looms behind us, its spires like claws against the murky sky, while the dead earth beneath my boots hums faintly, as if holding its breath. I feel it waiting—something ancient and powerful, gathering just beyond the veil.
Hanna stands near the dry fountain at the center of it all, brow furrowed, looking beautifully deep in thought. The glow of her power is dim, flickering like the last light of a dying star. She’s about to give everything she has left to “Uno Reverse” Oblivion, and bring back the lost. To some the cost would be too high. She will no longer be the powerful Goddess of the Sun—she is sacrificing that part of herself, and for what?
For us.
For love.
For her humanity.
Still, she remains the Queen of Tuonela, and the Goddess of the Dead, and if you ask me that’s pretty badass.
The Magician stands opposite her, cloaked in starlight, calm and unreadable as always. The air crackles faintly around him, a sense of inevitability hanging heavy. He has told us what must be done, that he will take Oblivion’s place, that he alone can judge who returns and who remains behind. Without him, none of this works.
I don’t want him to make this sacrifice. He essentially will cease to be as we know him. But I know it is the only way.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say quietly, though the words feel hollow even as they leave my mouth.
The Magician turns his head slightly, the galaxies in his eyes swirling as he meets my gaze. “I do,” he replies simply, his voice calm. “You know I do. I know I do. The tapestry doesn’t lie, and this isn’t the end.”
He steps toward Lovia, who stands at the edge of the group, arms tightly crossed as though holding herself together by sheer will. Her face is a mask of pain, anger, disbelief at the idea of losing him.
“This just isn’t fair,” Lovia says suddenly, her voice cracking. “Why does it have to be this way?”