He was working on it. But damn, it was hard.
“Yeah,” he said, drawing a deep breath that eased the ache just a touch. “I’m okay. For the first time in a long time, Isa, I’m exactly what I’m supposed to be.”
***
“You hesitate, child. Is there a problem?”
Skyla paused at the steps of the white ship. The one with big billowing green sails that would take her to the Isles of the Blessed, where the souls of the heroes and those who had proven themselves in life dwelt in harmony.
A bright light shone far off in the distance, casting a sparkle over the water like a million tiny diamonds. She wanted to go. Felt the pull all the way to her toes. But something held her back.
She faced the Fate standing at her side—Atropos, she’d heard her called—the one with salt-and-pepper hair and a long, flowing white robe. “I—I feel like I’m forgetting something. Something I’m not supposed to forget.”
Atropos frowned and looked at her sister. The white-haired Lachesis. “This is your fault, hag.”
“Not mine.” Lachesis grinned. “Blame Hera. She’s responsible for the soul-mate curse.”
Skyla had no idea what they were talking about. She looked from weathered face to weathered face and knew only one thing: The hole in her heart hurt. A pain she shouldn’t have. Not when she was about to sail off to paradise.
“If you do this,” Atropos said with a scowl, “you do so without my blessing.”
“Now, sister hag.” Lachesis cut her a look. “Have I ever needed your blessing before?”
Atropos harrumphed. “It is because of you this problem exists.”
“And I will set it right.” Lachesis turned to Skyla. “What if you could go back?”
“Go back?” Skyla’s brow dropped. “I don’t under—”
“To the human realm.”
The human realm. Skyla’s mind spun. Yes. She’d been human, hadn’t she?
“Not everyone gets this choice—”
“No one gets this choice,” Atropos mumbled, arms crossed over her chest.
“—but you are special.” Lachesis darted a glare at her sister before refocusing on Skyla. “You sacrificed your life for another.”
“I did?” Skyla couldn’t remember. “Who?”
“That you can’t tell her,” Atropos snapped. “If she goes back, she has to make the choice not knowing what she’s going back to.”
Lachesis sighed. “She’s right. There are rules. Rules even I can’t break. You have to make the decision not knowing the life you led before.”
“Or what’s waiting for you,” Atropos added. “Could be a child molester or a rapist you’re missing.”
Lachesis frowned at her sister again. “Or it could be a king.”
Atropos harrumphed. “Kings are useless.”
“Regardless,” Lachesis said, looking at Skyla again, “you have to make the decision based on what’s before you.” She held out her arm. “The Isles of the Blessed, or what you are afraid to forget.”
The sparkling light on the horizon called to Skyla. But the Fates’ options…How could she make that decision? She tried to rationalize it and came up with only one scenario that made sense. “If I’m here, then it means I led a good life.”
“Not necessarily,” Lachesis answered. “But one can redeem herself in her last moment and counteract all the wrong she did before.”
“Stupid loophole,” Atropos muttered.
“By saving a life.” The emptiness in Skyla’s chest grew larger. Until she was afraid it would swallow her whole. “If I go on the ship…”
“Then the pain you feel will disappear,” Atropos said. “And you’ll be free—mind, body, and soul. No more suffering, no more loneliness, no more hurting. The Isles of the Blessed are Elysium. Heaven.”
“But I’ll forget,” Skyla clarified.
“Yes,” Lachesis said before Atropos could answer. “You will forget.”
“And if I go back…?”
Atropos frowned.
Skyla looked at Lachesis. The white-haired Fate’s eyes softened. “The pain you feel will also disappear. And you’ll remember.”
“Would I ever have the chance to come back here?”
“That depends on you, child,” Lachesis said. “On the life you choose to lead in the human realm. Only you can make that decision.”
Skyla looked back out over the water. The light consumed her, and the urge to climb on that sparkling ship was so strong it tugged at the center of her being. Slowly, ever so slowly, closing the hole in her chest, filling it with peace. A peace that, for some reason, she was sure she’d never really had before.
A peace that made her forget just what it was that was holding her back.
“Time’s up,” Atropos announced. “What’s your decision, child?”
Chapter 28
Orpheus was pretty sure he’d never been so tired.