All That Lives Must Die - Eric Nylund [299]
“But is he alive?” Fiona whispered.
“I cannot say.”
That wasn’t an answer—but it didn’t matter. There were answers enough here for Fiona. She knew what she had to do.
“I’m going to find him,” she said, stood tall, and took in a deep breath, despite the stench. “And if I can’t find Zeus, or if he’s really dead, then I’ll find another to lead the Immortals.”
And if she couldn’t find a leader among them? She wasn’t sure. She’d cross that bridge if she came to it.
“Don’t,” Eliot said. “Hasn’t there been enough fighting? There’s got to be another way. Let me try to talk to Dad and Sealiah.”
Fiona laughed. “Talk? That’s not what they do! All they do is lie and backstab and take whatever they are strong enough to take.”
She heard the truth in her statement ring like a silver bell in the air.
“There will be war,” Sobek declared. “That much is clear. Many will die . . . though you should not grieve. All that lives must die—the gods—the angels—all must move on.”
Fiona felt a stab of sorrow as she thought about Mitch and all the other people she might know who could be killed. But how many more would die if she did nothing and let the Infernals have their way?
Eliot, however, went on as if he hadn’t heard Sobek’s prophecy. “Just give me a chance to fix things,” he said. “I can do it.”
“You can’t fix Mom and Dad,” she spat. “You can’t fix any of them. They all want this. And they want you, too.” She stared into his eyes, pleading. “Don’t go over to their side. Come with me to the Council. They can help us. And give up Jezebel—she’s nothing but poison.”
“I know what she is,” Eliot whispered. “But there’s more to it now than just her.” He stared at some distant point and his forehead crinkled in frustration. “I have to find out what being part of that family means. We’re both half Infernal.”
“No,” Fiona said with absolute certainty. “It’s my choice what I want to be.”
“Then it’s my choice, too,” he told her.
“Don’t be stupid,” Fiona whispered. “Things can’t end like this: us on different sides.”
Eliot shook his head. “You just don’t understand.” He turned and walked away.
Sarah started after him, but stopped when she saw the look of contempt on Fiona’s face. She hesitated, took a step toward Eliot, but then halted and stayed with Fiona.
Fiona could have gone after her brother—maybe even have stopped him, or at least, made him listen to her.
But she didn’t.
He had gone too far. He was lost to her.
“And so,” Sobek murmured, “as I have foreseen: the Heralds of the End of Days are split asunder.”
71. “I have stared into the eyes of Ancient Death. Was this our future? Our doom?” Thus begins Sarah Covington’s first entry in what would later be known as her notorious Secret Red Diaries. Sarah Covington had kept journals before and concurrent with her “red” diaries, but those contained details of her pre-Paxington personal life, ongoing Covington political dramas, and her familial teachings. The Secret Red Diaries, on the other hand, detail her long and tortuous relationships with the Post twins. Given where those relationships ended, her writings provide a unique mortal’s perceptive to their fantastic journeys, the wars to come, and the eventual fate of the Middle Realms. Gods of the First and Twenty-first Century, Volume 11, The Post Family Mythology. Zypheron Press Ltd., Eighth Edition.
87
PATCHED
This was a bad idea. Audrey felt it chill her to the bone, despite the cashmere wrap about her shoulders. She set her hands over the votive candle on the table and let the light and shadows play over her fingers.
When she had heard what happened to Eliot and Fiona—after worrying for weeks and weeks when they’d disappeared—that they’d fought in a war in Hell . . . she had almost died.
She had sworn to kill Louis for his recklessness.
Then she calmed and understood that it had been a logical move for the Infernals . . . that her children were more powerful than ever . . . and that certain opportunities