Herbert whispered in his ghoulish language, prompting Varga to translate for the rest of us. “He says he’s deeply sorry for the choice that led him down this path. They all are.”
The ghouls were former Reapers. While most had turned to savage beasts, there were clearly plenty out there who retained a conscience. Feeding had been instinctual for them, something that had to be done in order to survive. Whether it was flesh or souls, the ghouls here didn’t exactly take pleasure in consuming them. The more they went without souls, the more they decayed. Those present were at the bottom of the ghoulish food chain and had grown accustomed to flesh, rather than souls. Chances were the specters they’d eaten until now would reverse some of the damage that time had done to them, but that would not be forever. They’d need to feed on souls again in order to bring themselves closer to the Nevertide-type ghouls.
“I am considering forgiveness,” Death said. “But they must accept their condition. I cannot reverse a Reaper-turned-ghoul. I cannot fix such corruption, not even when I get Thieron back in my hands. But I can spare them from execution. One rule, only: they can no longer eat souls. If they’re caught eating souls, they will be obliterated. Do you understand me, Herbert?”
The ghoul nodded. Varga listened carefully. “He says they only ate specters to help. They’ve long been used to flesh. They’ll stick to cemeteries and war zones across the universe, where they can feed off the bodies. Herbert will personally make sure the ghouls don’t cross the line. If they do, he’ll turn them in himself.”
“What, so they’re staying together? The whole six dozen of them?” I asked, quite surprised, remembering that ghouls were solitary creatures, by nature.
“I suppose Herbert thinks he can control them better if they stick together,” Death mused, her black gaze fixed on him. “He has good intentions. I appreciate that. Herbert, so be it. Find yourselves a world where conflict is common, and spread out, so you don’t have territorial issues. Mind yourselves, and never eat a soul again. That is my condition. If any of you break it, the Reapers will come for you all. One of you is enough to go against me, and I will make sure you’re all wiped out of existence.”
Herbert nodded again and growled at the others. One by one, they shimmered and vanished, off to find their own place in the world. Personally, I was a little worried, but Death’s condition sounded rather good. By holding them all accountable in that group, they would make sure no one touched a soul again, purely for self-preservation. Of course, the other ghouls out there would not be so lucky.
“I will deal with the others when I’m free,” Death continued. “I need my Thieron to take the rest of them out in one snap of the fingers. The Reapers are too busy to hunt their fallen brethren.”
“At least Herbert gets another shot at things, in a way. No more running and hiding,” Taeral said, smiling. “I honestly think he’s earned it.”
“Oh, Taeral, ever the merciful and kind,” Death cooed.
“You’ve done your parts. What are you still doing here?” Widow said, his arms still crossed. I could’ve sworn he was smiling beneath that gimp mask, but even Varga couldn’t see through it—and not for lack of trying. That leather was special.
“We’re going to miss you,” I replied, trying not to laugh. “But I guess you’re right. It’s time we part ways.”
“Take the pink waters back to your world,” Death advised us. “Think of Earth. It’ll feel like a longer journey, but you will get there, eventually.”
Phantom bolted from the Reaper crew and wrapped her arms around Taeral, surprising us all—especially Taeral, who was downright speechless. “I will miss you, Fire Star Prince. Messing with your head was so much fun.”
“I hope it never happens again, but… okay, thanks, I guess?” He chuckled awkwardly.
It felt weird being here in the presence of Death and Reapers. Amazingly, some weeks ago we didn’t even know they existed. Now, we were tight buddies, so to speak. The nightmare had ended. The cult of the Hermessi would take a while to clean up on each of the planets in the GASP federation, but we’d get them all eventually. The damage done by the Hermessi would be fixed, as well.
But the hurt they’d caused us all… that would never go away.
At least we were safe now. We were free. There was a future ahead of us. Taking Raphael’s hand, I found myself eager to start a new chapter. To fill in the gaps between reality and Phantom’s dream. We had much work ahead of us, but with this newfound strength, we’d push through, as always.
Zeriel
I refused to let go of Vesta.
Holding her tight in my arms, her body soft and lifeless, I couldn’t bring myself to leave her. Even as GASP people came through, some wanting to help or comfort me, I didn’t even look at them. My eyes were hazy with tears. I’d never cried this much in my life. In fact, I didn’t even remember crying before Vesta came down from Vikkal’s cut-and-spell move, back on the Fire Star.
I heard familiar voices around me. Draven and Serena, at first, followed by a throng of murmurs and gasps from Kailani and Hunter, Jovi and Anjani, Jax and Hansa. I caught something from Arwen about opening the crystal casings and allowing the fae’s close relatives to come in and be with their loved ones.
“Ben…” Sofia murmured. She cried, and so did River, as Arwen took the casings down from Ben and the other Novaks. They’d all died, and there wasn’t anything we could do about it. I knew that. I knew it all too well. I just didn’t want to let go of my Vesta. Not yet.
River was absolutely broken. She knew what she was coming to see here, but still, it wasn’t at all easy. Lawrence and Field held her up. She’d lost so much. She couldn’t even speak as Derek and Sofia helped bring Ben, Grace, Caia, and Vita closer together on the marble floor. As soon as she laid eyes on them, she collapsed, screaming. “No! No… NO!” she cried out, her voice piercing my very soul.
No one tried to stop her. She kept screaming, losing herself in agony, faced with her dead family. My vision was hazy, as another round of tears made their way up. Watching River like this tore me apart on the inside. She let it all out. The grief, the anger, the pain and desperation… screaming until her voice faded, hoarse and exhausted. There wasn’t anything anyone could do for her.
Sofia’s self-control, on the other hand, was incredible, despite the tears streaming down her cheeks. She was definitely in better shape than poor River. Maybe it had something to do with losing Ben before—but he wasn’t the only one who’d died, in this instance. Perhaps her composure was sort of mandatory, given her leadership position in GASP. Derek was devastated, as well, his eyes red and all cried out. But they both kept it together. Even with all this happening, they kept it together. I could think of no one better leading the federation, or The Shade, for that matter.
Sofia looked at me, and my heart shattered all over again. She felt my pain. They all did. River managed to take her eyes off Ben, their daughter, and their granddaughters for a moment, and she, too, understood me. I could see it in her eyes—that single second of clarity she had, before she shattered herself once more, too tired to scream but with enough tears left to fill an ocean. She was seconds away from passing out.
“I’m so sorry, Zeriel,” Sofia breathed. “So deeply sorry.”
I couldn’t speak. My voice had vanished a while back. Kailani knelt next to us and gently caressed Vesta’s pale, pearlescent face. They’d been close friends since the Stravian incident.
“Zeriel,” Kailani managed, grief dripping from her faded voice.
“I know,” I whispered. “I know. This was the most we could get out of this situation.”
Derek took Lucas’s lifeless body in his arms, and I heard him cry for the first time. He’d never let go like this before—at least not while I’d been around.
“You didn’t deserve this,” Derek said. “After all you’ve been through… You didn’t deserve this.”
Sofia was torn between Ben’s family and her father, Aiden, who couldn’t even speak anymore as he stared at Kailyn. She seemed so peaceful, with her eyes closed, as if she was just sleeping, bound to wake up at any moment. We all knew she wouldn’t, though. Death was so final.
“The worst part is that we can’t even avenge them,” Bijarki said, sitting close to Vita and running his fingers through her blonde hair. Blaze lay on his side, so his face would be inches from Caia’s as he gazed at her, quiet and darkened by grief. “Who do we go after? How do we kill them all?”
“We can’t,” Lawrence replied, as Grace’s head rested on his lap. “The Hermessi are too powerful, even back in their basic elemental state, too big for us to go after. At least it’s over now. They can’t do this ever again.”
“It’s not fair.” Vivienne sighed. I’d not even seen her and Xavier come through, yet here she was, kneeling next to her brothers—one of which was dead.
“It’s over,” Derek interjected. “That’s the end of it. It doesn’t matter anymore. Revenge won’t bring them back. It won’t bring any of them back. Not our friends, not our granddaughter… my brother… our son…”
His voice broke as another wave of tears threatened to dismantle him completely. Sofia was quick to reach him, wrapping her arms around him and holding tight, while Derek let go and cried his heart out.
But Vivienne was right. None of this was fair. And I needed to make some sense of it before I found the courage to finally let go and accept that this was how it would end for us, for me… for Vesta.
