Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 147649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
A civil war?
Did the gods come and take the city back?
Who knows. Who cares.
The only thing that matters is that Tarq is most definitely dead and now—and I’m completely embarrassed and filled with shame just for thinking this, but it’s the truth—now I have nothing to bargain with when we meet back up with the eros.
I let out a long sigh. But then again, at least there’s no chance at all that Pie will be having Tarq’s godling baby.
That’s a bright side. A sick one, but still bright.
However, we’re not done with the eros. Not even close. He’s expecting me to bring him Tarq and… yeah. I got nothing.
I look down at the door I came through, and I’m just about to jump off the column and go home—thirty minutes my ass. I’ve been here five, and I’m done—but then I notice something else over by the lone doorway that leads to the throne room and I jump off in that direction instead.
The area I’m aiming for feels close, but even with my split hooves and spectacular jumping skills, it takes me a while to pick my way through the debris and make my way to the doorway.
It’s not a magical doorway. Just some grand arch that was well made and stood while everything around it crumbled.
I understand what I’m looking at even before I slowly navigate my way across the broken tiles and reach the foot of the crumbled throne. But still, it takes me several moments to accept it.
Because I’m looking at Tarq’s head.
A skull, actually. Nothing but a skull and a tarnished crown that has been nailed to his forehead.
I pick it up by the one remaining horn and stare at the empty holes where his eyes used to be. There is a new kind of sadness inside me. Something I don’t think I’ve ever experienced before.
It’s crushing, and painful, and punctuated with the realization that I probably did this to him with my defective spell. And worse, even if I hadn’t found him this way—long dead and forgotten in a pile of war-ravaged ruins—I was going to sell him out to a forgotten god to save a version of my future that never really had a chance in the first place.
I am the biggest piece of shit ever.
I drop my arm, still holding the skull by the horn, and turn to look around one more time.
I did this.
I am responsible for this.
And the last thing that comes to mind, after I make my way back across all the debris and cross through the doorway to my tomb, is that I do not deserve a happy ending.
Back inside my tomb Pie’s door is standing open, but shimmering silver. And when I look around the forest, she’s not here.
A panic builds inside me and my heart thumps wildly as I run through the forest towards the entrance to my tomb, then skid to a stop when I hit the stoa. Blinking. Trying to make sense of things.
Because Saint Mark’s is gone too.
Ruins.
Everything is in ruin.
I scan the remnants of tombs covered in snow, my eyes landing on the only one left standing.
That black fucker.
I stare at it for a moment, trying to figure out why it’s here, and then I look down at the skull of Tarq that I’m holding in my hand.
Apis came here for Tarq.
Or no. Apis came here for me. For killing Tarq.
Probably not for killing him, no. I didn’t sense that much loyalty in the bull god.
But I did sense—not a hatred. Hate is a strong word and I just don’t think Apis cares enough about me to hate me—but… a contempt.
And contempt is enough.
I jump down off my tomb and I’m making my way to the black tomb, ready to go in there and get this shit over with, but then I see Pie slipping into the remnants of the cathedral.
At least, I think it’s Pie.
Who else could it be?
Then I have to make a decision. Go have this final struggle with Apis or follow Pie?
I follow Pie.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR – TOMAS
All around me is darkness. But I don’t need time for my eyes to adjust before I understand what just happened. I have excellent night vision.
Everything about my dungeon is both familiar and not. I know this place. I have lived here for thousands of years. But the past few weeks have left an indelible mark on the walls, the floors, and me, of course.
So the realization that I’ve lost everything is immediate.
It’s not the cold or the snow piled up on the floor.
It’s not the debris that has rained down from the ceiling at some time during my absence.
It’s not even the smell.
It’s just a feeling of complete and utter emptiness.
Even though I have this excellent night vision, I stand in place in front of my door and wait for my eyes to adjust. And then I process.