Her power left brands on his skin. It stirred a thought in her, pulling her out from the fathomless light she was dissolving into. Hurting him.
Castor kissed her—kissed her until that blazing power lost its grip on her mind and body. The feel of him became a tether to the world, and she held it with everything she had in her.
The blazing power extinguished around them. Nothing felt real but him.
“Stay,” Castor said again, as he pulled his lips away from hers. “Don’t go without me. . . .”
There was nothing left in her mind. There was nothing left of her in this body. And when the darkness finally came for Lore, it didn’t feel like an ending, but a beginning.
TO HER SURPRISE, LORE woke to the world she thought she’d left behind.
The city sang its old song for her, weak but growing in volume and tempo. Dozens of car engines hummed through the streets, the start of what might come in the days ahead. Construction equipment clanged and boomed with the effort of hauling debris. People walked the nearby streets, laughing—and that was the sound that Lore held on to, the one that embedded itself in her heart as she opened her eyes.
Miles’s anxious face stared back at her. His hand tightened around hers as he bit his lip and tried not to cry. It looked like he’d somehow had a shower, or had at least a good scrub and shave.
“Your eyes,” he whispered.
Lore tried to think of what to say to him. Now that she was awake, that disconcerting feeling was back. Power moved inside her, restless in its confinement. Her body, which had served her so well for so many years, the one she had strengthened and loved and scarred, felt too insubstantial for her now. Instead, she looked around.
They were in her bedroom in the town house.
She was surprised at how close to tears she was at the thought. Lore cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
He gave her a watery smile. “That’s why it’s probably okay that it did.”
Miles had opened the curtains in her room, inviting the golden afternoon sunlight in. Lore felt its warmth pass through her as vividly as she felt the slide of the blanket against her skin.
Lore sat up suddenly. “What day is it?”
“Saturday,” he said. “You’ve been asleep since Castor healed you.”
Saturday. The thought filled her with a surge of panic. There were only hours left until the end of the Agon.
“Where is everyone?” she asked, her pulse quickening as she looked around the empty space. “Are they okay?” Lore had a sudden, vivid memory of what had happened in the subway station. “Is Castor—?”
“He’s okay. Everyone is fine. I mean—fine in that vaguely traumatized way that comes with not fully processing everything that’s happened, but fine.” Miles rubbed the back of his neck. “They went up to the roof a few minutes ago to get some air.”
A comfortable silence settled between them. Lore breathed in, and out, and in, and out, relishing the feel of it. How easy it came. She realized she was still holding Miles’s hand, but didn’t let go.
“What’s going to happen to you when today ends?” he whispered. “Are you going to disappear? Will you be hunted like the others in seven years?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. But . . . I hope it’s over. All of it.”
Lore suddenly felt desperate for the sight of her city. She stood slowly from the bed, releasing Miles’s hand to make her way over to the window. As she moved, the power moved with her, flowing through her muscles and winding around every joint and sinew.
Miles came to stand beside her. “What if the Agon takes you with it and you can’t come back? Athena said that the gods live in a world beyond ours—is that where you’d go?”
“This is my home,” Lore said. “Even if I lose this form, I’ll find a way to come back. I’m determined, and you know what that means.”
“You get a very intense look on your face and punch someone in the kidney?” Miles said.
“Maybe a little of that, too.” Lore let out a true laugh, but saw that he needed more reassurance. “I might need to be gone awhile, but I would never leave you forever. Not if I can help it.”
“Okay, but counterpoint,” Miles said. “I don’t want you to go at all.”
Lore turned her gaze back out onto the street below, watching as the first colors of sunset held her sweet neighborhood in a moment of perfect light. A couple walked with their dog and stroller, the men laughing together as the baby tossed a small star-shaped toy into the street.
He glanced at her again, leaning his temple against the warm glass. “You do seem a little different, but also not. I can’t explain it.”
“Me neither,” Lore said. “I just feel . . . light.”
She draped an arm around Miles’s shoulder. He did the same.
“You know, this city is a lot of bullshit,” Lore said after a while. “But it’s some beautiful bullshit.”
Lore and Miles joined the others on the roof. The sunset had begun in earnest, putting on a spectacular show of rosy gold and violet.
Castor stood to take the plastic bags of snack food Miles carried up. As he saw her, she caught a flash of concern in his eyes that he did his best to disguise.
Iro and Van were sitting on the blanket that they’d stretched over the rough surface. Lore’s heart was full at the sight of them, her joy so bright that she was almost startled by it. The two of them shared a glance, an unspoken nudge to each other to say something.
She suddenly felt shy then—as if what had happened, and what she’d become, was a ghost they all could see, but no one wanted to acknowledge.
Lore really hated feeling shy.
“Man, we really need to put a pool or garden up here,” Lore said, pretending to look around. “What the hell is the point of having rooftop access if you can’t lord it over your neighbors?”
“I’m guessing the point is to not violate city building codes,” Miles said lightly. “So we don’t have to pay an exorbitant fine.”
“Don’t you have an in with the city government?” Lore asked. “I mean, picture it—some nice lights, a few little plants here and there—”
“You have killed every single plant I’ve brought home for you,” Miles said. “And then I went home to Florida for spring break and you killed my plants because you didn’t water them.”