Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Instead, I’m with immortals.
One holds the sun in the palm of his hand—while holding mine.
And my brother’s life is at stake along with the chaos of the world.
There is no end of what’s to come only what’s been told to me. His left hand is shoved into his pocket as he walks, and I’m weirded out when each footprint made into the sand slowly fades back as if he was never there.
When I turn around there’s only one set of footprints, mine. “Why aren’t your footprints showing up in the sand?” I stumble forward in shock. He grabs me by the elbow and helps me keep my feet under me before I fall.
The waves aren’t even touching us, and his footprints are nonexistent.
I look down at his bare feet. Sand almost floats around his feet, rising and falling like the tides.
Bast completely ignores us, most likely in search of an approved bird, and Cyrus is still holding onto my elbow.
Slowly he releases me and goes down to his knees and presses a palm against the sand. “Do you know why there’s so much of it all over the world?”
“Sand?” I’m so confused, which seems to be my MO ever since coming to this place. Who wouldn’t be? Everything needs an explanation and even then, with those explanations unless they terrify you into believing it, it’s hard to swallow.
He picks up a tiny, nearly impossible-to-see grain of sand, and it flickers in the moonlight. “I refuse to desecrate the dead that have passed. Human bodies return to the dirt, but the dirt, the sand has memory. It remembers its creator. Some might say it’s part of me, just like you are. Some are trapped in the waters, the other realms, the underworld even, but most return to the earth later to be blessed by the Nile.” He walks over to the water.
Stunned, I follow him as he sets the grain of sand in the waves. I’m having a full-on Moana moment when the water parts for him only to splash at him as he walks and walks until he should be waist deep. He releases the sand into the sea and comes back toward me, then freezes.
I don’t realize I’m standing in the water or that water is lapping around my legs until it’s too late.
His eyes flash.
And the waves, while not touching him at all, crash around me, arms pull at me, hands tug my hair.
I want to scream but know if I do, I’ll drown. I squeeze my eyes shut.
He’ll save me, right?
He wouldn’t let me die like this?
I’m starting to black out when strong arms pry me free and toss me onto the beach until my body bounces against the sand.
“Idiot!” he screams right in my face. “Do you know what could have happened to you?”
“That’s not a normal ocean.” I choke out some water and wipe my mouth.
“You think?” He paces in front of me. “What did I say? You have to be careful. Nature senses your sacrifice and the underworld would be more than happy to pull you down with it, the souls in the ocean around Mount Olympus have not yet found their rest, they will grab at anything they can.”
“I didn’t realize I was following you!” I scream back at him, terrified that ocean ghosts just tried to kill me. “It’s not like I want to drown!”
He puts his hands on his hips then sits next to me on the sand; he doesn’t kick it, but I can tell he kind of wants a bit of violence right now.
The water is back to being peaceful as if nothing ever happened. It’s glass, reflecting the stars.
I’m petrified, even more than when he first told me who he was, even more than last night. Seeing him use his power like that makes things more real, tangible.
“Why are there souls in the water—in Styx” I finally ask.
He stares out at the water, body tense. “It’s a choice, one you’ll never unmake, just stay away from what you can’t control. Even some of the strongest immortals will spend years fighting the currents of the underworld in an effort to get out.”
“Why would they even go in?” I ask.
He rolls his eyes. “Enki likes to play tricks. He finds it amusing when they drown but never die in an effort to get back to the ground.” He shrugs. “I’m kidding. Though Enki does like to play tricks out of pure boredom.” He sighs. “Souls, even ones deceased, cannot help but fight. It’s the human way.”
“First off, you’re all very dysfunctional.” I take a deep breath. “Second, I did always wonder why the power to fight was so strong. I guess now I know.” I rest my chin on my knees. It’s not as cold anymore. I wonder if that’s because I’m next to Cyrus or if it’s just another sign of my impending doom; the universe grants me warmth mere days before my death. How benevolent.