CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
CHILD OF THE BLOOD MOON ( ii. )
Underneath the mountain, darkness swallows Calliope no matter which direction she looks. Stalactites hanging from above cast shadows against the dying torch in her hand that make her look over her shoulder. They trick her eyes into thinking someone is following—reaching for her with deadly claws. Every instinct inside her is heightened, and she can't control her rapid heartbeat. Sounds of unknown origin ricochet around her. Sometimes, it just sounds like falling pebbles or quiet footsteps, but others...it's a low growl or eerie, soul-stirring whisper, as if the voices are rising from below. From those dead, buried under the mountain in centuries past.
Her fingers are coiled tightly around the handle of her sword, and Ezlyn follows close behind her. Both of them have their heads on a swivel. Once they had entered the mountain, there was a descending patch of rocks, and then a wide archway leading them towards one destination. There are no forking paths, or hidden alcoves. Just a straight voyage to the end.
The wind howls throughout the cavern. Icy water drips onto Calliope's forehead, and she has never wished for sunlight more in her entire life. This place seems to go on and on, no matter how deep they walk. And neither of them has spotted any guards or hostile forces waiting to attack. That only makes Calliope more nervous, like she's stepping into quicksand or back towards dragon fire. There's no way to tell what lies ahead. All they can do is press further in.
The ghost of a touch on her shoulder brings Calliope to a sudden halt. Chills scurry down her spine, and she whirls around, but Ezlyn is several feet away, her hands at her side, gripping her daggers.
"What's wrong?" Ezlyn tries to speak in a quiet tone, but it expands around them, as if they're in a whirlpool of voices. What's wrong, What's wrong, What's wrong.
Calliope shivers, opening her mouth, but her lips clamp shut when she hears footsteps right next to her.
She moves the torch but is only met with rocks carved into intricate patterns from the changing terrain. An empty, hollow void, nothing in sight but the light flames illuminating her face and a few feet in front of her.
Nothing. Her mind is playing tricks. She's so anxious about what awaits them at the end of the line, that she's driving herself mad. Calliope's shoulders relax.
The assassin faces forward again, bringing the torch with her.
In the faint light, she stands face-to-face with a human-like creature baring its fangs at her neck. Calliope gasps and jumps away. The creature has a mouth, but no eyes. It's at least six feet tall, and it has some type of black liquid pouring from its gaping mouth made up of rows of yellow, lethal fangs.
Its claws reach for her, and it releases an ear-shattering shriek. Calliope swings her sword, slicing its lanky body in half.
"Cal!"
Ezlyn fights off two of them, and more shrieking echoes from the entrance of the cave. Calliope runs forward and barely avoids a gashed cheek as she impales her sword into its slimy, gray skin. Ezlyn kills the other, and Calliope grabs her arm.
"Run!"
Run! Run! Run! Her own voice mixes with the growls and shrieks of the creatures pursuing them. What the hell are those things, and where did they come from? Calliope has never seen anything like that before, but right now, she has to focus on keeping herself and Ezlyn alive.
She can sense them on her heels. Calliope looks over her shoulder and stumbles as a skeletal hand grabs her ankle. She thrashes and shoves her torch into its face.
The creature screams and becomes ablaze in orange, angry heat. A few others fall over it, and catch on fire, lighting up the entire cavern.
Ezlyn's arm latches around her own, and she's pulling Calliope up with her as they run deeper into the cave.
In the distance, Calliope can see more torches attached to the cavern walls. They must be close to Sepharin's stronghold, but she won't be able to kill him if these hellish creatures get to her first. So, they keep running, as fast as their feet can carry them until she notices that at the end of this part of the cave, the rock formation dips down and metal bars keep anyone from going further. Panic slams into her body. They reach the bars, and Calliope searches for any lever or key that can give them access to the rest of the cavern.
"Cal, what we do?" Ezlyn yells as they put their backs against the bars.
A hoard of creatures is closing in fast. There's no way out.
Fight. They'll have to fight. Calliope shakes her head. Is this the end?
The first creature that reaches them jumps right into Calliope's blade as she shoves it out in front of her. She kicks it to the side and dodges claws reaching for her throat. Ezlyn's daggers are moving fast, but each creature that goes down is just replaced by another blood-thirsty monster, and Calliope can't even count how many more are running towards them.
She nearly falls over when the bars behind her lift. Calliope doesn't think. She just grabs Ezlyn and yanks her back into the darkness.
The gate pounds against the cavern floor. Monsters strain against the bars, reaching their long arms, trying to get to the two people backing away.
Calliope breathes heavily. Black blood stains her sword, clothes, and skin. It reeks like some type of vile potion from Gaius's chamber.
"Creative, isn't it?"
The assassin throws out her arm, urging Ezlyn behind her as she holds out her sword.
Sepharin emerges from the darkness, his hand still resting on a rusty lever, that same, evil grin tugging at his lips. He's clad in gray armor, his eyes glinting with amusement.
"A little spell to deter intruders. I did consider leaving the gate down so I could watch those cannibals rip off your skin, but that'd be no fun in the long run."
Calliope's plan is shot to hell.
Everything has exploded and jumbled. She couldn't have predicted those crazy monsters would lead them right where Sepharin wanted, but Calliope suddenly feels very foolish.
"Ah, yes, come to kill me at last, little dragon?" Sepharin places his hand over his heart. "And I thought we'd be able to work it out."
As soon as the last sentence leaves his lips, more figures step forward to stand behind him. Calliope's eyes flicker over all of them, at least twenty men and women, all part of the guild. All lethal assassins.
"I'm only here for you," says Calliope. "Let's just settle this. You and me, one final fight to the death."
He looks to the ceiling for a moment, considering her offer, "Hmm...while that is a tempting offer, I have much more planned for tonight than you can imagine, and while I do think you could fight through quite a lot of us, your little friend back there will be the first to go, so you can either come quietly, or be responsible for her death. The choice is yours."
Calliope grits her teeth. There's a voice in her mind yelling at her to jump into action and kill everyone in front of her, but she knows they'd all go for Ezlyn first, and she can't fight twenty people and keep Ezlyn safe at the same time.
All she needs is one, tiny window of opportunity to kill Sepharin, and she'll have to catch him off guard.
Calliope knew all along this would probably be a one-way trip.
She lets her weapons clatter to the floor.
The assassin meets Sepharin's triumphant gaze, "A wise choice. Bring them to the Chamber."
Hands are on her, shoving her forward. Calliope risks a look over her shoulder, and Ezlyn catches her eyes. They exchange a worried glance, and then, a cloth is placed over her mouth. Calliope gasps, unable to breathe as the pungent scent takes over all her senses. Her eyes water, and she feels her vision blurring.
The last thing she sees before everything fades into darkness is a marble altar—
And a familiar dagger at the very center of it.
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"No! No! Stop!"
Calliope's eyes snap open.
For a moment, everything is fractured in orange light. The acrid stench of smoke, and the jarring smell of blood and decaying flesh registers before anything else. It isn't until a few minutes later that the images settle into focus, and Calliope realizes that she's chained to the wall. Her hands are above her head, and her feet are wrapped in iron that's bolted to the floor. There's a dull ache in her skull, and her breathing feels shallow and irregular.
Bile creeps up her throat when she looks around. Horror pervades through her every vein. Scattered throughout the cavern floor are dead bodies in various states of decay. Everywhere she looks, men and women lie with slashed throats and pale, fixed eyes. In the center of the bloodbath is a white, marble altar, stained all over with dark, dried blood.
Torches create a circle around it, and suddenly, Calliope knows exactly what this all means.
Sepharin is holding Deathbane. His followers line the walls with their hands clasped in front of them. Their eyes are shut, their lips murmuring incantations over and over—dark prayers to the blood wraiths, to the kingdom of the Underworld.
A horrible, evil—perverted presence looms. It casts shadows of darkness that are so black Calliope can't see through them. All of this death, it brings things from hell closer, feeds into their power. Calliope feels her own darkness in her blood swirling, and she shuts her eyes tightly and tries to think of the light. Of happy things, of good things. It'll keep the demons away from her for a little while, and it'll keep her mind from spiraling.
"Finally! The main star of our show is with us!"
Sepharin crosses the cavern, stepping over the carnage to reach her. Calliope narrows her eyes and doesn't wince as he grabs her hair and pulls. He forces her to look up at him, putting Deathbane right against her throat.
"What the fuck is this?" Calliope asks. "What have you done?!"
He motions to the dead bodies, "Oh, that?" A low chuckle rises from his throat. "Let's just say, it's been a real pain in my ass, and it's all because of you."
"Me?"
"Yes, it was supposed to be simple. Three human souls taken under a full moon by this dagger and a few incantations..." Sepharin lets go of her roughly, and her head smacks against stone. "I grabbed three men from Eastcliff, I killed them under a full moon, we prayed to the Underworld, but nothing happened!" Calliope sees stars for a moment, but she won't let herself slip again. "I thought, maybe I just need more souls, so I kept bringing people up here again and again and again, but still, it didn't work."
It should've worked, even Calliope knows that. Three human souls, full moon, and the incantation. That's what it takes to bring blood wraiths into the world.
Her eyebrows furrow, and Sepharin comes back into her field of vision, waving Deathbane in her face, "I consorted with every sorcerer, the most powerful ones I know, and none of them could give me an explanation. Until a few weeks ago, and I should've figured it out sooner," his lips form a sneer, "that it all comes back to you."
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Calliope exclaims. "Maybe, the blood wraiths are gone for good, Sepharin."
"Wrong!" He yells. "You see, Deathbane is no ordinary dagger. It has a kind of...allegiance—a mind of its own. Your soul didn't escape the dagger because of something so stupid as 'giving up your revenge' or 'choosing light over darkness'. You came back because Deathbane chose you!"
"Chose me? What does that even mean?"
"It all makes sense when you think about it. All it took is a little spell on your blood that was still in the blade to uncover the truth. Powerful—those blood spell are. They can reveal an entire lineage to those who know where to look," Sepharin's eyes flicker to her necklace, "The original wielder of this dagger was part of your fucking bloodline, Calliope. Your bloodline of cursed soldiers. It's meant to be passed down through the family, you might say, and when it felt your blood, its magic became tied to you. It won't work properly unless you're the one wielding it."
"No," Calliope shakes her head. That can't be true.
"This dagger is nothing more than an ordinary weapon to everyone but you. No magic can be cast with it unless it's in your hand."
"Even if that is true, I'll never use it to sacrifice people for you," says the assassin. "I'd rather die than help you."
"I knew you'd say that" he smirks, "which brings us to the main event of the evening!"
It's that voice again, the one that jarred her awake. A high-pitched scream echoing around the walls.
Several people are then brought into the room, and Calliope's heart stops.
First, three people she doesn't recognize—the sacrifices, she guesses. Two men and one young woman who is yelling and fighting against Sepharin's followers, but Calliope's eyes are only focused on the other three people.
Ezlyn, Kazimir, and Merlin.
She has no fucking clue how the last two are here, but suddenly her ears are ringing and the world is caving in.
The six people are chained up on the wall across from her, all taking in the horrific scene with wide eyes and scrunched noses. Calliope makes eye contact with Merlin, and she has no idea how they're going to get out of this one. If she could only get free and somehow find her weapons.
"Merlin," Calliope shakes her head. "What are you doing?"
"I might've cast a tracking spell on you," he says, looking to the floor. "Arthur is still in Camelot. I snuck away on my own."
The realization that Arthur is nowhere near this mountain gives Calliope a bit of solace.
But then there's Kazimir. How did he even know she was here? Why is he here? Their eyes meet, and from his gaze, it appears he knows far more than she does.
Sepharin notices their locked eyes, and he laughs to himself, "Oh, Calliope, I forget you don't know things."
Her eyebrows furrow. Know what things?
"Why are you here?" she asks across the cavern.
"You really haven't figured it out yet?" Sepharin asks in an amused voice. "Well, I guess I'll fill you in, or would you like to tell her Kazimir?"
"I..." Kazimir swallows his words, jaw clenching, and he looks away from her.
This seems to give Sepharin a lot of joy because he smiles, "The blood spell showed far more than your ties to the dagger. It revealed a little map of your bloodline."
"My bloodline?"
"Yes, and Kazimir is your father."
Calliope thinks she may be in a dream—a nightmare. One in which her reality has shifted into something unrecognizable. Did Sepharin really just say father? Kazimir is her father?
Her jaw hangs open, the information not fully sinking in because she refuses to accept it. Has he known all along? Did he know back in Finley when they worked together to break into Drak's fortress? Did he know and leave her in the dark? Calliope can't sort through all the emotions plowing into her. Anger, confusion, sadness, and fear. It's all so jumbled and chaotic. She can't even bring herself to look at him. His bloodied and bruised face, and his hair that's the same icy color as hers. Oh, how could she not have noticed all the similarities? In his mannerisms, his fighting skills, and his eyes. Eyes she stared into when she was just a baby.
He's the one who gave her to Gaius. The one who made the physician promise never to tell her the truth as his wife and son lay murdered beside him. As he gave his only daughter away to a stranger—her only hope for escape.
And now, he stands across from her in this cavern of death and decay, chained and awaiting a gruesome fate. Because of her. Because of this brutal string attaching them.
"How lovely to bring family together again," says Sepharin as Ezlyn and Merlin look just as shocked as the assassin. "And you can save those three people across from you, but only if you do everything I say."
He's going to use her to bring the blood wraiths back.
She has to choose between letting those monsters back into the world and saving Merlin, Ezlyn, and her apparent father.
Sepharin motions to the three people from Eastcliff, "Sacrifice them on the altar," more of his followers step forward, placing swords against Merlin, Ezlyn, and Kazimir's throats, "or watch these three be slaughtered in front of you."
Her eyes flicker to where Sepharin holds Deathbane in his right hand. If she killed him before he could give the order, would his followers still go through with killing everyone?
"But first..." he walks up to her, mere inches away. His fingers reach out and he grabs ahold of her necklace. "Take this off."
"No!" Kazimir jerks against the chains. "Don't do it!"
"Thanks to my sorcerer friend, I know this is the only thing tying you to your humanity," Calliope swallows, glaring at him. "It's enchanted so that you are the only one who can unclasp it and put it back on. Ironic, right?"
"Calliope," Kazimir says, grabbing her attention. "I'm begging you. That necklace is far more powerful than you know. Without it, you won't know friend from foe. You'll lose all your emotions, everything that makes you human! No one has ever been able to resist the curse without their tether."
Calliope remembers Gaius's story. There were a few of her people who resisted the curse long enough to figure out they needed a tether. What about them? Surely, if she took it off to appease Sepharin and wait for an opening, she could kill him and put it right back on. Would a few minutes really do that much damage?
Yes, take it off, a voice in her mind soothes. You don't need it.
Sepharin lunges across the room, shoving one of his followers away from Ezlyn so that he has Deathbane pressing against her neck so hard that it draws blood and causes her to cry out.
"Take it off!"
"Don't!" All three of them across from her yell.
Another one of his followers is unlocking the chains that bind her wrists, but her feet are still trapped.
Her hands fall to her sides.
"You have five seconds before I cut her throat wide open—"
She can take it off. She can resist the curse. It won't be so bad. Yes, and you'll have more power to kill him, the voice adds. He won't stand a chance against you.
"—one, two," her hands shake as she reaches behind her neck. Unlock your true power, it's what you need to defeat him.
"Calliope, no! Don't do it!"
"Three, four!" Sepharin meets her eyes, drawing more blood from Ezlyn's neck.
Her fingers find the clasp, and before Sepharin slices his blade across Ezlyn's throat. Calliope's crescent moon necklace clatters to her feet. Her neck is bare, for the first time in her entire life.
Everyone in the room gasps except Sepharin. He laughs evilly, stepping away from Ezlyn.
Calliope has no idea, but eyes are suddenly glowing a terrifying, bright red.
The power hits her like a hurricane. Like she's had all these forces dormant within her for centuries. It's electrifying and consuming and...addicting. Her veins are on fire with the power—it's slicing through her blood, coming alive and racing to the surface. All of the horrible emotions she's been experiencing just vanish from her mind. The concern for those three people across from her fades below the surface and is replaced by an urge for...for what exactly?
Calliope looks at Sepharin.
It all drills into him.
Death. He needs to die.
"Put the first one on the altar!"
The crying woman is led to the altar and forced to lie down as she begs for her life. Sepharin crosses the room, locking eyes with Calliope.
Her normal shade of blue has returned, but she still feels the red burning within her, waiting to strike.
"Remember, you kill the sacrifice, or one of your loved ones dies."
Who are her loved ones? She knows the names of the people chained up. She has her memories of them, but she just feels detached from all of them. Like everything that once connected her to them has dulled. A flame dying amongst heavy rain. There isn't a jolt of concern for them, or even a small voice telling her to save them.
Instead, her mind latches onto a singular point. Rage formed from centuries of dark magic twisting within her bloodline has awoken. Her own sorrows and losses mixed with those of hundreds of ancestors passed. Her anger is a living entity, overtaking everything else until nothing remains but one goal.
Looking up, she watches Sepharin as he hands Deathbane to another assassin. His own sword replaces it, and he still has Ezlyn within his grasp.
Desperation has caused him to make a fatal miscalculation.
The flames from surroundings torches create an ambient glow against the destruction. Calliope clenches her freed fists. The assassin before her is holding out Deathbane for her to take.
The power from the weapon calls to her, and she knows what needs to be done.
"I'm warning you, Calliope," Sepharin calls from across the cavern. "One wrong move and this one will be bleeding out on the floor."
The chains around her ankles are discarded.
She sucks in a sharp breath.
Sepharin meets her wrathful gaze. His eyebrows raise, waiting her next move as his three prisoners shake their heads at Calliope.
But when her palm closes around the strong handle of Deathbane, the magic hits her like an avalanche, and the force is so strong that she has to steady herself against the rocky wall. Calliope lets out a quiet cry, her vision flashes with images of death, bloody battlefields, and screams of her people being slaughtered. Suddenly, she knows them. Each and every one that has fallen—their names, their dreams—the connection is more overwhelming than anything she has ever felt before.
"I'm waiting, little dragon!"
When the images have subsided, Calliope breathes heavily, shaking as she pushes herself off the wall. She looks at Sepharin once more. The assassin next to her is inching closer, trying to nudge her towards the altar where her expected victim trashes against her restraints.
Calliope slashes open the assassin's throat, and his blood splatters against the walls.
Everything blasts into chaos as Sepharin's followers begin to descend onto her.
"Oh, you foolish girl!" Sepharin yells. "Haven't you learned what happens when you defy me?"
Calliope is surrounded on all sides, but they leave enough of a gap in front of her so she can watch as Sepharin takes hold of Ezlyn. A distant echo comes to life in her mind behind a hazy wall of mist. Wait, no, that's Ez. He can't hurt Ez. Don't let him hurt her—!
"Cal," Ezlyn's panicked eyes meet her gaze. "Cal, I'll always love you—"
A choked gasp leaves her lips. Blood flows from the side of her mouth, and Merlin and Kazimir thrash against their restraints. Calliope watches, eyes wide and overcome with shock, as Sepharin unchains Ezlyn and removes his sword from her stomach with the harsh ring of steel. He shoves her body forward, and it thuds against the floor.
Calliope is frozen. Her eyes are stuck to where Ezlyn coughs up blood, curling in on herself as her hands fly to the fatal wound. Somewhere in her mind, there's screaming.
The sound makes it through the wall of nothingness and unleashes throughout the entire cavern.
And then, her weapon is flying in all directions.
She's too busy brutally killing every person in her path to notice the spell Merlin mutters that causes the rocks above his and Kazimir's chains to explode. The rocks burst through the entire cavern, taking out a few assassins and giving Kazimir enough time to grab a weapon. Merlin leans down over Ezlyn as she struggles to hold on.
His hands shake as he puts pressure on her wound, "Just hold on. We'll get out of here!"
"M-Merlin?" Ezlyn asks. They've never met, but Merlin feels tears prickling his vision. "You...you can't let Calliope go."
"I won't," he says as a tear falls onto his cheek. He looks over his shoulder as she disembowels two of Sepharin's followers, blood that isn't her own soaking her limbs and streaking across her face. Deathbane is an ethereal force of pure hellfire in her grasp. No weapons stand a chance against it, especially as Kazimir makes his way to his daughter and begins cutting down Sepharin's followers with equal skill.
His head turns to Ezlyn as her breathing slows, "She has good...in her.... don't let her forget," tears mix with her blood as she pleads with the sorcerer. "Promise me."
Merlin wraps his hand around Ezlyn's and gives it a comforting squeeze, "I promise."
Her eyes look to the ceiling, and her chest goes still just as Calliope kills the last of Sepharin's followers.
The only opponent left alive in that cavern, amongst the piles of dead bodies, is Sepharin himself. He looks at the girl before him, the girl whose soul was forged in dark magic and oaths of revenge, and he knows that he's beaten. That nothing will save him from her fury. Now that she has Deathbane in her hand, no one on this earth will stand a chance against her power.
Calliope's chest heaves. She stops Kazimir from fighting him. This one is hers. This kill, it's one that's long overdue. One she should have gone through with a long time ago.
When she looks at him, Sepharin drops his sword and falls to his knees, raising his arms, outstretching them like an eagle's wings. Calliope stands over him, her lips pulled into a hateful sneer. Sepharin locks his eyes onto hers, and he begins laughing. It echoes throughout the cavern, an evil, proud laugh that sends chills down her spine.
"I may have lost our last fight, Calliope, but I got what I wanted," he says, motioning to the carnage surrounding them. "A final act of revenge—a demonstration that proves I was always right about you," Calliope puts Deathbane against his neck, "and, now when I look into your eyes, I see a tormented soul clouded by darkness and anger."
"That's because darkness is all I have left."
Sepharin smiles, "No, it's all you've ever had," Calliope draws back her dagger. "I'll be waiting for you, little dragon."
She impales Deathbane through his throat.
And Sepharin dies, choking on his own blood, with that haunting smile still on his lips.
Deathbane clatters against the floor. Calliope stumbles back, her hands covering her mouth. I'll be waiting for you, little dragon. She suddenly feels nauseous, and the walls begin to close in on her.
"Cal..." Merlin's voice rises from the other side of the cavern. "Ezlyn, she's—she's gone."
The rage had almost made her forget what had unfolded just before she descended into fighting. The clouds in her mind, distorting every emotion and feeling caused her focus to shift, but now, without the molten anger and lust for blood, it all hits her. Ezlyn, she was dead. Because...because of me.
But why should she care? You loved her!
A sharp pain shoots through her skull, "You can fight it, Calliope." Kazimir's hand is on her shoulder. "Just remember what ties you to this world. Hold on to your tethers."
No, she didn't need to feel. Didn't need to let in those awful emotions that complicated everything and made her weak. Without them, she's more powerful—she's stronger and less vulnerable.
As she looks at Ezlyn's unmoving body, another pain ricochets through the back of her skull. She cries out and puts both of her hands around her head.
"No, no, get out! Get out!"
"Cal!" Merlin stands up. "Cal, remember.... remember Arthur!"
Arthur? His face appears in her mind—his smile as he looks at her through sleepy eyes in the morning.
"No," she shakes her head. Get out, get out.
"He loves you! So did Ezlyn, and they wouldn't want you to give up like this."
They loved me? Yes, And I love them!
Arthur's laughter echoes in her mind. Their sparring matches and late-night patrols where they keep each other awake by talking for hours about every topic they can think of. Foods they like and don't like, childhood fears—he was afraid of heights and she the dark. She can hear their voices like it's all happening over again. My father would make special candles for me that burned longer so I wouldn't have to sleep in complete darkness. I called them my night lights. He had tilted his head, and she thought he was going to call her silly or make fun of her childlike sincerity. Instead, he had grabbed her hand and grinned. I'll be your night light.
Their many embraces and kisses and nights together were flashing through her brain now as a tear fell from her cheek. She remembers star gazing, pointing out the dragon and the crown. She remembers stumbling into his room that first week in Camelot, their trip to save Merlin when they had saved each other, and when he had soothed her after the horrors in Kendrick's fortress.
His hand trailing over her tattoo, kissing her scars. Fuck being friends. I'd rather be hurt by you than give myself to anyone else. You are my future. My heart is yours, and it always will be.
"Always," Calliope says to herself, her hand clutching her chest.
And the haze disappears. The voices, the reluctance to feel with it.
Now, she can see with more clarity, and her feet lead her to Ezlyn's body. Calliope falls to her knees, the taste of salt on her tongue from the number of tears staining her cheeks. A low, building sob leaves her mouth, and her shaking hands reach forward to close Ezlyn's emerald eyes.
Calliope bows her head as the sobs retch through her, causing her entire body to tremble.
"No, no, Ez," Merlin's hand rests on her back as a steadfast presence of comfort.
"I'm so sorry, Cal."
"This is all my fault. I did this," Calliope says through her sobs. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Her head falls onto Ezlyn's unmoving chest, and she repeats those words over and over until she's shaking so violently that she can't speak.
Ezlyn is dead, and parts of Calliope are dead on the floor with her.
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thanks so much to everyone who has read along for 64 chapters! and thanks to my lovely beta readers du_silverdragon
and Bmemzie
next, the final chapter, and it's so surreal that this story is actually going to be complete.