The life we’d all shared together must have been flashing before them, just as it was for me: our friendship, and the depth of our sisterhood. Our perseverance together in the fight for a hand in our own destinies. My branch on the tree of life was a beautiful thing, knotted by struggle and intertwined irrevocably with each of theirs. It would mean great sorrow to let it be snipped away completely.
But then again, here I was. Dressed in color and painted with black. Loved by the man of my choice. Endless, and at peace. I hoped they could see the person I had chosen to become.
Zoe broke the silence. Her words were not ones I had expected, but when I heard them, I realized that I probably should have.
“Are you happy?” she asked.
Intrusive tears welled in my eyes, and my voice wavered in my throat. “I—I already miss you so much.” I sniffed, the emotion threatening to ruin my perfect makeup. “But…yes. I’m happy, Zoes. I’m happy.”
“Well, that’s all we need to know.”
Her response was so pure, and so genuinely loving. She was my family. They all were, and they always would be, no matter what I became. I exhaled deeply and let the branch of my mortal life fall away. I was free.
Luckily for the four of us, this meeting would not need to be our last. I would still be able to visit their realm so long as I could endure the intensity of the flight between our worlds. The flight that awaited me tonight. The one that would return me to the city of Hades, where Persephone’s pomegranate was waiting for me.
I took Death’s hand.
Epilogue
Everything had changed on that one fateful day, when the loveliest oracle announced Leon as a child born of the gods. He was son to Apollo, she’d told him, and he would never have believed the message save for her insistence, and for the desperation he’d seen in her eyes. Of course, immediately after that Leon had shot a horde of harpies right out of the sky, putting the demigod debate to rest before he’d even had achanceto doubt it. So many things had happened so quickly on that day.
That pretty oracle was dead now, he remembered—slaughtered before his eyes. Leon could still picture the acceptance of death on her familiar face, a face he’d grown up with and seen all his life. She was the first, but not the last, of the blood that had spilled—thatwouldspill—in his wake. So many others had been taken alongside her, stolen together with the frivolous hopes and dreams he’d once entertained.
When the dust settled after the battle, Halieis hadn’t known what to think of him. Sure, he’d delivered its people from their sudden attackers, but would the attack have happened at all if Leon had been far outside their walls? The elders were right in saying that thisoutsidewas where he must belong for now. Apollo hadn’t descended from the skies to claim him, so there was no telling whether Leon still bore a harpy-summoning curse, or whether he would attract other beasts to strike from the depths. More terrors were not what the civilians needed, so hehad accepted his city’s halfhearted praise and left his life there behind him.
His journey had been spent in years of roaming from place to place in search of understanding. He’d explored his powers. He’d trained, he’d prayed, and he’d even pulled off heroic feats, but still no resolution had come to him. Now, Leon was done messing around; it was time toforceApollo’s attention. And an opportunity had arisen that could, just maybe, give him the chance he needed.
It was a lost legend that might wash all of his problems away, a story long protected: whispers of a gift of nature, supernatural and ever-moving. Its location remained always illusory, guarded by enchantment, but Leon knew now that with the performance of the correct magics, the gateway to this sacred place could indeed be opened. He knew because he had finally done it. He had broken the barrier and crossed the threshold.
In this spirited wood, in the hidden refuge of the nymphs and the naiads, grew a tree that was older than remembrance. It was said that life itself flowed up from its roots, a font of the rarest magic. Here, the nymphs collected this radiant power piece by tiny piece. Over decades they waited, harvesting all they could, until at last there was enough gathered to craft the ultimate tonic, the medicine to cure all ills. Panacea. And in a turn of favorable events, an ill-stricken lord of considerable influence had promised Leon his aid in return for delivering this poultice.
The trouble, of course, was that this grove had been expertly concealed, and just making it this far had already caused him no small amount of trouble. The cuts and bruises that covered his skin were a testament to his hardship. But perhaps his path was clear at last, because he had finally found his way to the very heart of this enchanted place. Only a curtainof hanging leaves blocked his way. He reached out a hand and brushed it aside.
A clearing opened up before him, ringed by the vibrant greenery of even more silent trees. And right ahead, across the stepping-stones of a small pond, he spotted the base of a massive tree trunk. It was enormous in circumference, and so tall that he could only see a few branches of its lowest-hanging foliage before the rest was obscured by the canopy of the companion trees that grew nearby. The only leaves he could see from the main branches shone like silver-painted greenery, radiating with obvious power.
Leon came to the edge of the pond and began to traverse by way of the flat stepping-stones. He had never been especially in tune with nature, but even he had to admit there was a captivating beauty to this place. Too bad it was still somewhat creepy, as he was fairly sure that some of the trees were watching him approach. The soft breeze that blew through the clearing whispered hints of almost-words.
Arriving at the opposite side of the pond, Leon had only a short way to go before he would reach the base of the great tree. On his approach, he saw that a figure awaited him near one of its gigantic twisting roots. At a closer look, he recognized it to be a dryad: a tree spirit. This one was humanoid in silhouette, but its body was composed of bark, moss, and leaves that had twisted into the shape of a man. It had no proper eyes or mouth, yet Leon was nevertheless certain that the spirit was watching him. He gritted his teeth, gathered his courage, and walked up to converse.
“Welcome, young pilgrim,” the dryad said. The voice that came from within its bark was that of an old and understanding man. “You have done well to reach our grove. Surely your spirit is relentless and undeniable. Tell me now: for what purpose have you come?”
Leon took a deep breath. “Thank you,” he said carefully. “I have journeyed here from afar to take of this magic, to retrieve from you the poultice which cures all ills.”
“I see. And what would you do with this power, were you to receive it?”
“I would bear it to the Lord of Sunderlin, that he might be made well again. His recovery is of paramount importance,” Leon stressed. “He is a good man, and this a just cause.” With any luck, he wouldn’t be made to beg.
“A worthy goal,” the guardian responded gently. “But though that may be, its merit cannot change the fact that you are too late.”
“What do you mean?” asked Leon, a sickening feeling gathering in his stomach.
“I mean that the draught of life is gone from here, for you are not the first in recent memory to arrive seeking its power. Another has claimed the gift before you, and thus many years must pass before the magics can coalesce once again. Maybe come back in forty? That will probably do it.”
“Forty?” Leon gasped. “No—no, that can’t be true. No one else could know how to make it here, I’m certain of it! I mean, I communed with the satyrs for ayearbefore they let me in on their secrets, and even then they did not know the way! No—who could possibly have made it here before me?” The pitch of his voice rose as his resolve edged ever closer to panic.
“Does it matter who it was?” the dryad asked him. “Truly, I regret to hear of your troubles, young pilgrim, but the boon that you seek is now gone from this place.”
But Leon shook his head, still disbelieving. “There was never any news of its discovery or its use, nor reports ofanymiraculous recovery! Even the spies of the great cities have never heard of such a happening—and I know, because I spoke with them! If the medicine is gone, why has no one heard aboutits effects?” He was starting to babble now, for despite all the troubles he’d already been put through, the thought that he wouldn’t be the first to arrive was one he’d somehow never even considered.
