Fate Undone (The Mythean Arcana Series Book 5) (35 page)

The great tree’s roots were destroying the foundation of the labyrinth. They’d be crushed beneath the walls before they ever neared the exit. It brought nightmare memories of when the Architect’s domain had crumbled around them.
 

Logan had saved her that time. She had to save him now.
 

But how? She didn’t have the magic to restore the walls of the labyrinth before they crushed her.
 

Or did she? The thought suppressed the panic whirling in her mind. To fix the labyrinth, they’d used Yggdrasil’s tree and the Retaliator’s heart, but she hadn’t used the Architect’s gift.
 

She needed the map to find her way out, but with giant stones threatening to crush her with every step, she needed to stop them more. Her idea wasn’t perfect and she had no idea if it would work, but she had to try.

She drew her staff from the aether and consulted the map one last time, memorizing as many turns as she could. She then touched the tip of it to one of the still-standing labyrinth walls. It took her precious seconds as the world collapsed around her, but she managed to gather her focus enough to force the Architect’s knowledge into the walls of the labyrinth.

When the last of the Architect’s gift had flowed from her staff, she opened her eyes. A quick glance at Logan showed him as mindless as before. She forced despair aside and began to run again, dragging him with her and praying that the Architect’s knowledge would work to restore her creation.

She hated the maze that had stolen her love from her, but she didn’t want to be buried beneath its rubble for eternity.

Soon, the walls stopped crumbling. As she heaved herself and Logan along the path, she realized that not only had the walls stopped falling, they were rebuilding themselves.
 

Into something new. Through the sweat that dripped into her eyes, the stone looked gray rather than brown as it had been, and smooth rather than rough. The plants that had been fed by the river Lethe were falling away, shriveled and dead without its dark energy. In their place were beautiful stone arches and turrets, walls became buildings and courtyards. Elegant stairs led to second story balconies.

The change was mind boggling and fast, but Sylvi never stopped running, praying that her memory of the map would get her at least close to an exterior wall.
 

Eventually, the fog that had hovered over her mind dissipated. There were still burning holes in her memory, but the memory loss had stopped.

Did that mean that evil spells on this place had finally failed? She stumbled to a stop, desperate for a reprieve. Her lungs and muscles burned. She no longer remembered which turns to take, but maybe it wouldn’t matter.

Sylvi turned and pulled Logan toward her, wrapping her arms about his stiff body. He felt like a mannequin in her arms. No memory, no will. Nothing but the face she loved without all the things that made him special.

Tears poured from her eyes as she tried to control her breathing. She focused on the lawn outside her house, desperate for her aetherwalking to finally work. She couldn’t aetherwalk to Moloch, but perhaps she could aetherwalk away? Because of the sheer amount of magical energy required, protected places usually only barred entry, not exits. And with the labyrinth’s dark magic destroyed, it might work.

Her heart soared when she felt the familiar pull. Freedom was so close! When she opened her eyes, she stood under the night sky at the university, her arms wrapped around Logan.

Please let him be back to normal.
Home felt so normal that he must be too. She pulled back and looked at him. His gaze was lost, staring somewhere into space.

Grief almost sent her to her knees. She clung to the cold bite of the air, the comforting familiarity of home. Anything to keep her from breaking down.
 

He’d sacrificed himself for her.
 

And she’d failed to save him in return.

She stepped back from him, utterly unsure of what to do and so heartbroken it felt like her chest was a barren wasteland. He walked away, heading toward her woods. Just as Sylvi was about to set off and grab him, his familiar green magic swirled around him.

Moments later, he was a falcon, flying off through the dark night toward places unknown. Instinct, not memory, must have propelled his magic.

This time, she did fall to her knees. Sobs shuddered out of her. Loki was gone. Well and truly gone. He’d taken a piece of her with him.

As she watched him fly into the darkness, she understood that the terrible magic of the labyrinth hadn’t broken him entirely. It should have, but it hadn’t. He might have lost his mind and everything that made him who he was—his will, determination, humor, and cleverness—but he wouldn’t be held captive by anything.
 

He could still fly free.
 

He was protecting himself the best way he knew how. And she was glad for it. But that meant she didn’t even have a piece of him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

When a gentle hand shook Sylvi’s shoulder, she had no idea how long she’d been on her knees in the grass, weeping. It was dark and stars still twinkled from the night sky. Logan was still gone.

A warm little body rubbed against her side and she looked down to see the grumpy face of Chairman Meow. He looked concerned, as much as a cat could, as he nuzzled her thigh.

“Sylvi, are you all right? What happened?” Esha crouched down in front of her.
 

Vivienne knelt down next to Esha and peered into Sylvi’s face.

“I think she’s in shock,” Vivienne whispered to Esha.

Sylvi barely perceived the women in front of her. Part of it was shock, but she was pretty sure that it was also a bit of her memory loss. She’d been so concerned with Logan that she hadn’t paid as much attention to the memories that were slipping from her mind and leaving burning blank holes.

“Do you think it’s her memory?” Vivienne asked.

Yes. Yes, I do.
 

“Could be. They were in the labyrinth for over twelve hours.” Esha cursed. “If only we could have gotten in!”

Her friends had tried to come for her? These women
were
her friends, right? She couldn’t remember details, but she did feel happy to see them.
 

She was just now starting to grasp that her memory was far more gone than she’d suspected. She’d lost it in bits and pieces, rather than chronologically as Logan had, and the damage was becoming more apparent as she searched her mind for things she thought she should know.

Sylvi tried to fight back from the foggy despair that had fallen over her mind. Logan needed her. She needed to save him. She had to
do something
other than just sit here!

Esha rubbed Sylvi’s shoulder. “Come on, love. Let’s get you up.”

Sylvi nodded and reached out a hand so that Esha could help her stand.

The earth rumbled and shook beneath her feet, knocking her sideways. Esha’s shocked face flashed before her eyes before something twined around her body and dragged her down. Down through the earth as dirt closed in around her.

Panic clawed at her throat as she felt herself being transported through the aether.

She slammed into the ground, every muscle in her body aching. When she opened her eyes, giant tree limbs rose high above her. Fear and rage streaked through her.

Yggdrasil
. Only one tree was this big. Heart in her throat, she leapt to her feet, drawing her staff from the aether. She spun to face the trunk, a mind-bogglingly huge column of wood that rose hundreds—no, thousands—of feet into the air.

A figure slouched in a throne that was built into the base of the tree. Sylvi pointed her staff at him, but before she could attack, tree roots swept her up, wrapping tightly around her so that she could no longer point her staff, and carried her forward toward the personification of Yggdrasil.

The Ancient One looked utterly exhausted, weak and frail, though the tree was still strong. As if his spirit was damaged but the true body was still powerful.

She hated that the bastard still had power over her. She struggled against the branches, yelling, “What the hell is your problem?”

The white robes that cloaked Yggdrasil’s slender human form were dingy, the androgynous face lined with exhaustion. Yet when the figure spoke, the words boomed through Sylvi’s body, sending a shiver through her.

“You destroyed my labyrinth.”

Rage snuffed out the fear that should have frozen her. The asshole had stolen Logan from her! And now, she couldn’t even escape Yggdrasil’s clutches. She fought to be free of the roots but couldn’t budge them. “It was an evil fucking place!”

The figure’s features softened infinitesimally—not enough to relax her, but enough to lend thoughtfulness to Yggdrasil’s expression. “Perhaps you are right. I was blinded by the rot that has infested me from thousands of years of the gods’ greed and ambition and petty rivalries that diverted them from their true path of shepherding the mortals. The earth is not well. The gods are not well. And it made me unwell.”

“What, so now you’re healed?” It enraged her that Logan’s sacrifice had gone toward this asshole. A small part of her knew that she should be more moderate and forgiving, but with Logan lost, she just couldn’t care.

“No.” The figure wearily shook its head. “But I might be. Loki made a great sacrifice, one that might have given me the seeds of a cure. And it showed me the error of my ways. I put so much faith in Loki to rail against the gods—to put them in their place. He failed at that after he went to Midgard and I was disappointed. Bereft.” He paused, a thoughtful look on his face. “But in the end, he had to fight against me. To put me in my place. He succeeded after all. I am powerful, but not all powerful. I see now that perhaps it wasn’t my place to imprison the gods.”

She so did not have time for Yggdrasil’s poetic musings about his purpose. Sylvi struggled so hard that she felt her shoulder pop. A blast of pain. It only fueled her rage. “I don’t fucking care! Give Logan his memory back! Give him back his will! His hope!”

The figure’s eyes met hers, solemn and dark. “I cannot. The gift is given. And I would not. It is needed for the world more than it is needed by Loki.”

Hot tears spilled from her eyes. She couldn’t escape. She couldn’t defeat the enormity that was the world tree, nor could she force it to return Logan to her.
 

So she begged. “Please! I’ll do anything! Just give him back his memory! His hope and will!”

“I cannot. But in his honor, I will make the labyrinth a place of good. You both have reminded me that things we want to remember are more important—and have more power—than the things we wish we could forget.”

His honor? What good would that do them?

“I created the labyrinth to destroy the memories of the gods, for what they had done to me, to this world, to all of us,” Yggdrasil said. “But you healed that place by using the gifts of the Triumvirate. The heart, the knowledge, and the life reflected the intent and the will of those who used them. You turned it from a place of misery to a place of joy. I'll make it into a place of memories for the souls that have left the world, so they do not forget its light, and so that we do not forget their light.”

Shock hit Sylvi. “Wait, what? They don’t need a new place. They go to their afterworlds.”
 

What a cocky idea, thinking that souls would prefer his labyrinth to the afterworld of the faith they’d practiced when they were mortal. She hated this damned tree.

“I mean the souls of those who don’t make it to an afterworld,” Yggdrasil said. “Those who are meant for reincarnation, whose souls wait in the aether to be reborn. Now they may go from nothing, to something. They’ll spend their time in the labyrinth—which is no longer a true labyrinth—and await their rebirth. The dead afterworld of Moloch will have purpose again.”

A shiver of appreciation ran through Sylvi. She still hated him, but it was a nice idea. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of souls who awaited rebirth. Her friend Diana, the reincarnate of Boudicca, had been one of them. Boudicca’s daughters might be the same.

“It’s not a totally shit idea,” she said. “But I’d rather you return Logan’s gifts to him.”

“I cannot. Loki has what he needs. His spirit is out there, free of pain, free of Ragnarok. His life has been pain, and torture, and endless struggle. If you love him, then you must know his heart—he is free.”

“That. Is. Bullshit.” She spat the words at him. “It reflects your desires more than his and it is fucking bullshit.”

“Perhaps,” Yggdrasil said wearily. “But it is all I have to say.”