Page 194 of Eternal Surrender

“Fabian Snowstrom?” His mouth gaped in horror as though remembering. “What the hell did you put me through?”

“I had nothing to do with your joining, Orpheus,” Fabian said. “But everything to do with you finding your way back.”

Staring at the ceiling, Orpheus’s eyes moving as if they might find something written there. His mouth shaping the name Paradom.

Then he looked at me.

We held each other’s gaze, and in that look, we understood it, the simple, brutal miracle we had survived.

We were not as Paradom was.

Orpheus straightened. “Sovereign?”

Jacob appeared beside Fabian and said, “All dead. Though the son lives.”

“Not for much longer.” Orpheus faced me again, realizing. “Jadeon doesn’t remember, does he?”

Fabian tilted his head. “He will.”

“Sunaria?” Orpheus’s hands stretched behind him, as though reaching for the door, reaching for the way out.

Fabian gestured to the doorway. “You won’t be stopped from leaving.”

“Perhaps, we should talk,” I reasoned.

Orpheus faced me again. “No. We may walk away alive this time, but next time, one of us won’t.”

Orpheus was gone.

I drew in a careful breath, my hand resting over my heart as I tried to compose myself.

Taking the three short steps toward the megalith, I caressed her irregularities, running my fingertips over her coldness. Spreading my hands over her width as though waiting for her to spill her well-kept secrets honored over centuries.

“The incantation?” I asked.

“Went smoothly,” Fabian replied. “The scrolls did indeed hold the key to your separation.”

“Miraculous,” I whispered, “that such a spell even exists.”

Fabian lowered his gaze.

I read the trepidation in his expression. “What other incantations do the scrolls possess?”

Fabian raised his hand. “You have visitors.”

Catherine appeared in the doorway. “I couldn’t wait a moment longer.” She ran and threw her arms around me, kissing my cheek. “You did it!” she said to Fabian. “You actually did it!”

Ingrid was lingering a few feet behind her, watching nervously. Catherine motioned for Ingrid to approach.

For a moment, Ingrid looked astonished, her eyes warm, thin with strain. Then something in her face lifted, and she seemed almost alight, like someone who had seen the great love of her life, alive and well.

“How do you feel?” Catherine asked.

I tried to find the words. “As you’d expect.”

I wanted to believe I wasn't dreaming. That I hadn't died. That the ones I loved standing so close to me meant we had all made it.

I reached out and reassured Catherine. “Just tell me you’re not hurt. That you’re safe.”