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Ares’s castle shivers all over, and then straightens somehow, like an old soldier saluting. The lines of it sharpen, towers thrusting up into the sky. A flock of swallows circle one turret before winging off through the sky, darkened to jewel purple as the blazing sun sinks below the horizon.
I take a deep breath of the cool, twilight air, laughing with delight as a cloud of fireflies descends, flickering in the night like our own personal stars.
Arawn, through all the changes, never looks away from Rhiannon.
“I feared you might be a dream,” he says in a voice like broken music.
She’s openly crying, but grinning through the tears. “I’m sorry it took me so long, my Lord, but did I not promise I would come to you?”
It feels a little voyeuristic to watch their reunion, so I turn away to give them at least the illusion of privacy while they whisper sweet words to one another, touching constantly, like they’re terrified that if they let go, the other will vanish into a cruel dream. Which, yeah, I can’t blame them for.
Instead, I turn my attention towards Ares. I’m not entirely sure I’ll be welcome, but I lay a gentle hand on his arm, ready to snatch it away if I need to. “Are you alright?”
It’s a stupid question. He’s a god, and they’re notoriously difficult to wound or kill. But Ares’s worship has dwindled in the time he’s been trapped down here, and if he loses the Fifth Gate, he also loses the power that comes with it. I might be a little conflicted with where our relationship stands, exactly, but I also don’t want him to drop dead on me.
For a long second, he doesn’t respond. Just stands there, with his head tilted back and his eyes closed as he breathes slowly. It’s long enough for my anxiety to start doing back-flips as I imagine every terrible outcome that could possibly rain down on us.
Then Ares lets out a long breath. It’s the sound a man might make when he’s put down a terrible burden that he’s carried for too long. His dark eyes open, lips curling up into something too small to be a real smile.
“I’m… free.”
My heart gives one hard beat, full to bursting with too many emotions. “You are?”
“The realm let me go.” He smiles then, flashing strong white teeth. “Its Lord, Arawn, has returned, and it no longer… needs me.”
Even though we’ve obviously already had sex and thus battered through that door, I’m not sure if it would be appropriate to throw my arms around him or anything like that. So, I only smile, and speak the truth. “I’m glad.”
Arawn and Rhiannon finally break from their clinch and turn towards us. The Lord of the Fifth Garden still looks a little wan, but Rhiannon is practically glowing. They can’t seem to take their hands off each other.
Arawn looks to me and inclines his head. “Rhiannon has told me of what you’ve done for us. I cannot thank you enough.”
Before I can respond, Rhiannon presses her shoulder into his arm.
“Summon her sister’s soul here, my love. That will be a start.” She smiles at me, beautiful in her joy.
“Of course. I understand your time is short.” Arawn makes a gesture, and just like that, Janie suddenly appears. She looks light and effervescent, not a settled spirit like Rhiannon. Her eyes are closed, and she’s still, other than the gentle movement of her hair around her face, like she’s suspended underwater.
I press my hands to my mouth, trying to throttle back the tears. I’ll have plenty of time to ugly cry later, but for now I have to choke it all down. Thank the gods for the diadem, or I’d probably be a blubbery mess right now.
Arawn’s face takes on a solemn cast then, some of his obvious joy dimming. “I am sorry, Aphrodite’s daughter.”
My heart freezes, and then lurches into a fast gallop. “Sorry? Sorry for what?”
His eyes are dark, and deep, and infinitely sad. I can’t help but wonder how many years of love it will take to chase the shadows from him.
“Rhiannon tells me that you traveled here to retrieve your sister’s soul.” Arawn gives me a pitying look. “But the dead cannot leave the Underworld, not once they cross its threshold. Even if I release her to go with you, the First Gate will never allow her to pass through to the mortal world.”
“But…”
He shakes his head. “You must say your goodbyes. But, know that she will be welcome here, if she chooses to remain.”
The wave of grief that slams into me is so powerful, it almost drives me to my knees right here in the rich loamy earth of the restored Garden.
“No.” I mean to shout it, but the word comes out as barely more than a broken whisper.
Ares is like a statue beside me, rigid, almost vibrating with tension.
This can’t be it. I’ve come so far! I fought my way through the Underworld, faced the Fallen. I freed Ares and restored the gods of Death to their places of power. But will any of that matter if I can’t bring Janie home?
