Unedited.
Epilogue
Years Later...
"Here's a question, do you think he's drunk?"
I knew who he was talking about but it didn't stop me from looking around the dance floor anyway. The pair twirled and whirled, oblivious to everyone else around them. I knew the little girl couldn't be drunk, she was way too young. As for the guy—I couldn't stop watching him dance.
Andrzej was dancing.
And his dance partner let out the loudest shriek of joy as he lifted her up and twirled. The smile on his face got wider as she flung her arms out expecting—
There she goes.
He flung her up and up and up, her black curls flared out behind her as she came back down.
"He doesn't drink. You know that."
"First time for everything."
I squeezed his hand and rested my head on his shoulder. "Not likely."
Andrzej was always on duty. His words, not mine.
I knew the second the little girl landed back in his more than capable hands, the yelling would start. It always started. He did it just to get her mother worked up and pissed. He liked pissing her off. He said it was hilarious, the highlight of his day.
Sure enough, the maker of the little human appeared at his side. I read her lips as she started in on him, telling him in no way whatsoever was he to toss her daughter into the air and no, she didn't care if the little girl liked it. The little human stood between them, holding on to Andrzej's hands and rolling her eyes.
Everyone knew you couldn't stop Allie when she got on one of her tirades. You rode it out.
A familiar head of curly afro hair appeared next to her and immediately started interjecting himself into the conversation.
Schylar. The other maker of the tiny human.
The whole thing brought a smile to my face as Allie turned her tirade on him and forgot all about Andrzej and what he'd done to get her started in the first place. Andrzej shared a wolfish grin with the little girl and they backed away from the bickering couple, making a swift getaway.
Allie and Schylar fought, no matter the circumstances, and everyone knew this was the way of things. After all, why quit a habit of a lifetime? Even if they were married. Even if they did have a kid together. Even if they were both my best friend.
If there were opposing opinions to have, they argued them.
Then made up.
I hated the making up part.
They were cute but hearing the particulars of their private moments was gross. And no matter how many times I told Schylar I didn't want to hear about his sex life, he told me anyway. Why quit a habit of a lifetime?
Cecil turned and kissed the top of my head. "Are you ok?"
Serious voice. The smile lessened on my face. "Fine. Just tired."
"We can shut this down if you want."
"We're allowed to leave early without shutting down the party. We're the bride and groom."
"Right. Then we should do that."
I sat up and looked at him. "We have to stay a little bit longer."
"You sure?" He brushed his fingers over the side of my face, making my life lines go crazy. "You look worn out."
"I got married today. I'm fine." I leaned forward and kissed him, only intending for it to be a quick peck on the lips. Instead I lingered, experienced it, and for some reason remembered the first kiss we shared at the Agora. The way I felt. My mind was jumbled from all the information they'd thrown at me but that kiss, it slowed the world then sped it back up.
I couldn't get lost in that memory right now, even as it threatened to pull me in and hold me so I could experience it again. "I'm fine," I whispered against his lips once more.
He knew I was lying. He knew it was getting harder to shove the visions back in their boxes. But he let me have the lie and kissed me again. This one different from the one we just shared. Desperation tinged the edges of passion. Like he knew time slipped away faster and faster each day and he needed to savor the here and now.
Like when I came out of the ground after being gone for days.
It was morning. I remembered the cool dirt on my face when I broke ground. The sun just started coming over the horizon and Cecil—he had to dig me the rest of the way out. He thought I wasn't alive, that the Gods' churned me up, returned my body to him. He had every right to think that. I'd died three or four times while coming up and I wasn't breathing when he got to me. There was crying, a lot of screaming.
When I took a deep breath and opened my eyes, the crying and screaming changed. From sadness to relief. No one else was there, just Cecil. He'd stayed, remained vigilant. Waiting. At every point in our lives, one of us waited for the other.
"Cecil."
I whispered it then, I said it now.
The wolves were scratching at the door. Figuratively, not literally. Andrzej had control of the actual wolves, took command and did well at it. No, the wolves I spoke of existed on the other side of this world, peering in. Watching. Waiting. They celebrated alongside this party, existed in the back, behind the high table where Cecil and I sat.
In the dark where no one could see.
The Gods retreated after the battle, when the humans woke up from their ignorance and discovered the Elite's true purpose.
That Gods and Goddesses were real.
The human's reaction—violence. Towns were burned, Elite were persecuted. We were slowly being driven from modern day society. A clear line was drawn in the sand and it was unsettling. If the humans saw an Elite coming down the street, they crossed to the other side. There was talk of making safe havens, having the Elite voluntarily retreat, draw back and away from human society. Some Elite wanted to abandon them completely. Let them deal with the monsters and demons that crawled out of the deep that day. Make the humans realize they needed us for their species could survive.
For now, though, we remained. We protected. We hoped the tide of opinion would once again favor us. But it didn't look good.
I turned more towards Cecil, moved closer, and rested my head once more on his shoulder. This time looking back.
The Gods danced too. I knew them all now. By face, by history, by current views. No need to consult a handbook or ask Cecil for information anymore. I knew.
From the outskirts of the crowd came a waving hand.
Kells.
He pushed through the party and stood, smiling. I smiled back and gave a small wave so no one would notice. He raised his glass before taking a sip. Cheers. I missed him.
They didn't appear to anyone anymore. Only Logios and Janus were allowed to. All the others remained hidden, ordered not to interact unless needed.
I could see because I was the Oracle and Future Time Particular. Cecil could see because he was the Past.
But when they withdrew, so did we, the Time Twins. Cecil and I refused to help the Gods. We shunned them as they shunned the Elite.
So in a way, there were three sides to all of this: the Elite, the Gods, and the humans. All lines drawn. We were just waiting to see who flinched first.
It wasn't the Gods, at least not yet. Having them hide tonight showed they toed the line. A line they created to protect themselves.
This was supposed to be the happiest day of my life and in many aspects it was. I had my friends before me, happy and healthy. My father and my Uncle Clay sat a few seats down from us, conspiring like little old men.
But a streak of sadness darkened all of this for me. And it was because the God now blowing me a kiss before fading back into the crowd couldn't be with me. Here. In real life. Where others could see.
"Everything will be fine," Cecil whispered, sensing how upset I was.
I wrapped my arm around his and squeezed his hand as another God stepped out of the crowd. It was like they felt it. The pair of them. The power of the future looking when she didn't look anymore.
There was no glass of champagne in his hand.
No joyous smile.
No bright colors.
I wanted to tell Cecil everything would be fine.
But as I looked at this God, I didn't see fine.
I saw how all this would end. Silent tears tracked down my face.
Everything's going to be fine.
No, no it wouldn't. Not with things the way they were. Something needed to change and I knew—that something wouldn't come for a long while. More people would die. The world would grow darker. And no one would budge from their safe havens. No matter how many times I shouted that truth, no one listened. No one except Cecil and my close circle of family and friends.
But even what they did wouldn't be enough.
So I cried when no one could see. Not even Cecil.
The dark reached out, crossed boundaries, and wiped away the salt water on my face.
Remember, you let me see your tears.
One day they would drip, drip, drip into a bowl to tell the future when I talked nothing but nonsense.
And until that day, I would be here. I would be present. I would hold Cecil's hand and swear to any god listening that only death would separate us. So even though I let Death see my tears, I knew where the real meaning lied. And who it lied with.
"Tally."
I blinked and the Lord of the Underworld was gone. Faded back into the crowd or back to his kingdom. Who knew. He wasn't my problem, not yet.
I lifted my head and looked at Cecil. "Kells sends his well wishes."
The barest hint of a smile tugged at his lips. "I'm glad. For you."
"One day."
"One day," he agreed. "But it's a long road."
He'd cupped my face and I reached up to move his palm to my lips, landing a kiss square in the middle. "We'll make it."
"I hope so. As for now, let's dance."
"Promise not to tell me you just want to be friends at the end?"
He lifted my left hand and kissed my wedding band. "I'll never want to be 'just friends' with you again. You came back for me time and again. I'm not about to waste this life. Are you?"
"No," I whispered. "No I'm not."
I could hear the drip, drip, drip of tears and knew one day he might regret his words.
But for now I would exist. Here. In reality. In the now. With him.
And hope for a better future than the one I could see.
*
Deep beneath the ground, a bitterness grew
And from the sky, a rumble came
Something wicked was coming
Something dark and savage and new
Not now would they dwell on it
Not now would they think of it
Not now when the world was so cruelly split in two.
But further into the future, a pair could be seen
Walking with crows circling at year eighteen
She of one and he of seven and nine.
They alone foretold of what was coming down the line
THE END...for now