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Her heart cried out to run after him for another kiss, one last glimpse, to make him promise that this goodbye wasn’t for good.
But when she flung open the door, Kaleb was already there.
Time was up.
“Let’s get this over with,” Kaleb muttered, looking bleary-eyed and miserable enough for them both.
She offered him a wobbly smile. “Tactful, as always.”
“Sorry. Old habits die hard.”
She told him to wait and trudged back to place the book on her pillow. Dante couldn’t have meantforever. She had to believe that. She opened it for one last look, to his last page, and the scrap of paper she’d taken for a bookmark slipped free.
On it was a postscript written in spare lettering:
P.S. If you still want to know my name, consider it your prize for a successful battle.
She hugged it to her chest, dizzy with relief. Not goodbye. Not forever. As long as she saved the world and survived a war with the gods. As far as motivation went, she couldn’t think of anything better.
She and Kaleb didn’t speak on their way to the temple. Bless him, he looked terrified. And hungover. A stereotypical groom despite the odd circumstances.
Renata and Tomo watched from the front row, along with the entire Consiglio, as they entered. To Alessa’s surprise, Kamaria was seated by the altar, guitar in hand, and she began playing the Canto della Dea to accompany their walk.
It was a struggle to keep her eyes on Kaleb during the ceremony with Saida sniffing loudly beside Josef, and Kamaria clearly trying not to laugh about it, but Alessa stood when told, bowed her head during the prayers, recited the words she needed to, and even laughed—a little—when Kamaria’s snickering earned a scowl from the Padre.
Soon enough, it was over, and Kaleb smiled. A small, nervous smile, but a smile nonetheless.
Before, Alessa had been the Finestra in name only. Now she was in truth. Kaleb was her Fonte, and he would be her partner in battle.
Tomo and Renata came up to congratulate them, heaping praise on the Padre and the other members of the Consiglio about how smoothly the plan had gone and how the island would be well protected because of their brilliance.
“Go on,” Renata said in an aside. “We’ll keep them busy for a while so you two can get away.”
The sooner they could return to training and change intotheir normal clothing, the sooner Alessa could pretend it was just another day, so she took the opening.
“Now what?” Kaleb asked, as they walked back down the aisle.
“I don’t know,” Alessa said. “I guess we keep practicing until Divorando.”
The others were waiting in the foyer outside the temple, Kamaria on crutches, Saida mopping her eyes with her sleeve, and Josef waiting to clap Kaleb on the shoulder like a stern, elderly man trapped in a seventeen-year-old’s body.
They raised a cheer, and Kaleb sniffed loudly. “Dusty down here.”
Alessa removed her gloves to wipe her eyes, and Kamaria nodded at them. “One last time, together?”
The world went blurry as they all reached out, stacking their hands together.
Their powers tingled through her skin, melding into something she’d never experienced before, expanding inside her chest into something buoyant and electric.
The foyer lit up as tendrils of lightning snaked through swirls of snowflakes amidst fiery tornados ringed with clouds of mist. A magical ecosphere expanded and contracted around them in time with Alessa’s breath, illuminating their awestruck faces. Glittering ice crystals danced and chimed in a strange and beautiful song as though her power—their powers—rejoiced. Alessa’s gift purred with satisfaction.
Almost simultaneously, Kamaria, Josef, and Saida let go. Everyone but Kaleb. The magic remained for a moment, then their gifts winked out. Her power expanded to fill the space left behind. What had been enough was no more, her gift no longer sated, like a sudden thirst.
Kaleb’s grip went lax. His eyes flew wide, and his fingers curled like paper lit on fire. He hit the floor with a sickening thud.
No. Not again.Alessa’s ribs were iron bars, locked around her lungs.
Her fault. Always her fault.
