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)
I lower my head and keep walking while the waves crash against the sand, and in the corner of my eye, I spot a giant tentacle reaching into the sky like it wants the stars and slams onto the ocean.
“I know,” I whisper. “I know.”
I swear I can hear Ken say, “No, ancient one, you have no idea what is coming.”
CHAPTER 32
CLEO
“Good to love good things when all goes according to thy heart’s desire.” – Volsunga, ch.28
Idon’t know what the hell just happened, or if maybe this is all a weird dream, and I’m in a coma, but Bast is sitting on my bed again, snoring.
Dag is staring out at the water.
And Cyrus just made me see heaven and hell all at once. He’s tortured. That makes two of us. I die soon. Would it be so bad to die in his arms again and again? Until we’re sick with the pleasure of it all?
I grab the quill and keep writing names down on the ancient parchment. It’s a painful process. My hand aches. There are so many names. My siblings. Ones created to store Chaos’s power and create an army. I don’t know what I feel, but with each name I know there’s a story and it hurts to wonder what they left behind knowing exactly what I’ll be leaving as well.
I don’t stop until I have three hundred. The checkerboard is on the floor from our game. The pieces scattered in the dirt.
I wonder if he realizes how beautiful he is when he’s in his full immortal form. I was petrified at first and then I realized he was showing me himself—truly, really, who he was. It hurt to choke back the tears of the pain I saw of how he must have roamed around the earth for who knows how long. Alone. Does the sun feel love? Can it? When people always rely on it to shine down? Do people thank it? Understand it? No probably not. The sun still rises each day no matter what. But do they realize it’s because he made it so? He is the sun itself. The one we look at in the sky is just a part of him. And yet he’s walked in how much darkness. Isolated. Waiting. To finally kill me.
This was all about saving Jake, so why do I feel like I need to save the very one who helped create the worlds? Why do I feel like this is bigger than a sacrifice? That Cyrus, or rather Ra, needs someone to hold his hand too?
It’s all so confusing that I have a headache.
When I do finally feel tired, it’s super late, or maybe I should say early in the morning. I fall asleep with the sunrise, facing Bast, and petting her like my own therapy cat, even though she’s terrifyingly huge. She really doesn’t do much but stare at me, sleep, and protect me when she needs to.
Protection from what, though? Myself? From the other immortals? In my opinion, they’re all monsters in their own way, and they all have their reasons. I could also argue that they’re heroes to others. Why else would they purposefully fail to stay and help the balance between immortals and humans?
My thoughts are disturbing; they’re of the flames in Cyrus’s eyes, the sadness in Daggon’s, the resolution in Inti’s, and finally the trickery in Enki’s. Kratos is a whole different story.
It’s like a freaking Christmas Carol from hell in here with all the visits from the gods and Tyrell hasn’t even stopped by yet, so help me. Apparently, there are more that want to toss in their vote, it all sounds so archaic and wrong and yet I’m getting a gift.
“Don’t pick me.” A voice wakes me up from my sleep, from my weird dreams. “Please.”
I jolt awake and see Apep standing there in a three-piece black suit, his golden-white hair swept back, aviators on, looking every bit the businessman. He even has a cane with a snake twisted around it. The serpent is blood red and weirdly evil looking.
“What?” I rub my eyes. “Why are you suddenly here?”
“Don’t pick me.” He repeats it. “I demand it.” Like I would. I almost laugh, he’s beautiful but there is no attraction there. “I know you know the stories, just know, to pick me on the night of the eclipse would be the worst possible thing you could do. Besides, you’re too young.”
I roll my eyes. “And everyone else is old just like you.”
“Ancient, actually.” He smooths a nonexistent wrinkle on his suit and looks back at the water. “Daggon would be a good choice, an easy one. You’ve met Tyrell previously, he’s another good choice, a lesser god compared to the rest, but you could still pick him. I’d stay away from Inti and Enki; you don’t want to get chased and you truly do not want to get tricked.”