The sun just rose in the east, the horizon painted orange and yellow blending together with the golden sand. The stars still twinkled in the lightened sky and the dry, desert air was still cool and crisp.
I panicked, afraid that I was left behind, afraid that I would have to traverse the desert alone to safety. I searched the landscape for anything that would remind me of how I got back to the desert, how I ended up here alone. Then I saw it.
The black and ivory, striped tent laid out over the sand. The silk, fabric folds flapped in the breeze and the inside glowed warmly with the light of the lanterns. In the breeze, I could smell the exotic spices and freshly baked bread.
I breathed slowly, realizing I awoke in a dream-walk. The tent was there, across the sand, inviting me in. The warm glow and pretty fabric beckoned me to enter, to explore more deeply what the tent had to offer.
He called me here. He called me to a place that would stir my better emotions and tug at my tired resolve.
I folded my legs and crossed my arms, staring at the tent and breathing deeply. There was part of me that was hungry to go inside, the part of me that remembered the passion of a forbidden kiss and what my magic felt like wrapped up in its other half. But, there was another side to me that remembered everything else, remembered the cause I fought and sacrificed for.
I sighed, almost wanting to give in to the emotional part of me. Nobody was here in the desert or inside of my head. Nobody was pressuring me, pushing me in any one direction, reasoning with my logic or appealing to my emotions. I had a choice for the first time.
There was no one here to influence my decision. I knew that whatever happened in this dream world would remain a secret that would be mine forever. I admitted to myself that I wanted to go into that tent. I wanted to connect to him, to let our magics run wild.
With that admission, I knew I could walk away. Because I could admit what I genuinely wanted, I could also realize what I wanted would have consequences. And, I had goals and desires that went beyond the present, far beyond this dream and this moment.
I stared for a few more minutes at the tent, knowing I was in no danger of moving toward it. I was in no danger of him.
He came then, after the moments of stillness. He stood in the open entrance, shirtless and god-like. We stared at each other across the desert expanse. He didn't move toward me, or call my name.
Then I knew it was time to go. I took another step away from him, his hold diminishing before I could even open my eyes back in the real world.
Chapter Thirty-One
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Aunt Syl asked, during the drive to Amory's. “I mean, I want you to of course, but I just want to make sure you're ready. You've been through so much in a very short amount of time.”
“I have to, I've stalled long enough,” I mumbled, glancing at Lilly in the backseat of Aunt Syl's red convertible. Her vibrant, unrestrained red hair whipped in the wind. She smiled encouragingly at me, her bee-stung lips forming the happiest expression. She was perfection today, she looked infinitely better than she had two days ago and I was so happy to see her look healthy.
“I know, I know, I just worry about you, that's all.” Aunt Syl turned to me; I could see the anxiety in her eyes even through her overly large sunglasses.
“Besides, Jericho is going crazy,” I laughed. Thinking of Jericho made this journey easier somehow. He was my rock; he made impossible situations possible and offered hope where there was none. If the time had come to meet my parents, my real parents, at least I could rest in the knowledge that he would be by my side.
Aunt Syl pulled into Amory's driveway and shut off the engine. We all stepped out of the car and glanced around. I knew, somehow, somewhere someone followed us, but I couldn't worry about that for now. I hoped that at least they weren't cognizant of everyone in the house, but there was no way to be sure of that either.
I unlocked the front door, and walked inside to a darkened sitting room. All the blinds in the house were pulled, but the basement door was open and the staircase down had the light on. I led the way over to the door, feeling the pull of magic and hearing the excited chatter of almost two dozen Immortals.
I took a breath, closing my eyes for a second and finding courage. I didn't know what to expect in a situation like this, there was no experience to draw from and my Titan intuition did nothing for the good kind of confrontations. I decided to move; obsessing over my fears was not going to accomplish anything.
I took each step with calculated intent, deciding I had faced worse things than awkward moments. At the bottom of the staircase, I turned a corner to meet the gathered Immortal's. Another big breath and I entered the rec room that Jericho turned into makeshift housing. Lilly and Aunt Syl stayed right by my side and that helped ease my tension.
The room fell silent when I walked in, all eyes turning to me. I tried to take in the crowd, to find my mother's face, but I was too nervous. Familiar faces blended with new ones and I didn't know whether to wait for them to approach me or be the first one to make the move. A small debilitating fear began to grow and spread inside my veins, convincing me I wouldn't recognize them, whispering that I wouldn't know them at all when they introduced themselves.
Then unexpectedly, they walked out of a downstairs bedroom with Jericho. I caught my mother's eyes first, as black as mine and brimming with tears. Her long, wild hair encompassed her small frame and she stood shaking with anticipation.
The moment felt surreal. It reminded me of the first night Amory had told me about my magic, and how I invaded his thoughts and memories to find an image of her. It felt like that now, like I was looking at a distant, beautiful picture that I would never be able to touch. Only, unlike in the memory, she was looking back at me, her eyes held mine and there were no words to express how amazing that felt.
“Go to her,” my father whispered to her and she did. She took the length of the room in a few short strides, engulfing me in her arms before I had a chance to protest. She held me to her like a small child, kissing the side of my head and whispering promises and apologies too fast for me to understand.
I just smiled, letting the relief wash over me. I was with my mother, my real mother. I started laughing , then crying, and then laughing again. I was an emotional rollercoaster, but since my emotions echoed in my mother, I had to forgive myself.
“Delia, darling, I would like to see her too,” my father said gently and my mother laughed, letting go of me and depositing me into my father's arms.
He didn't immediately hug me. He looked at me deeply in the eyes, memorizing my face and making sure that I was real. He felt like Avalon and that made me instantly trust him. His eyes were the same piercing green, his hair unruly and wild and his smile the absolute most genuine thing I had ever seen.
When he finally brought me into a hug, it was as though he were bearing his soul. He was a quiet leader, gentle but commanding, and I felt the traces of Titan upbringing in his careful reservations. He was good and wise, and I was so grateful that he had come, that he could take over leadership.
“I'm proud of you,” he whispered and the breath caught in my throat. I wanted to protest, to remind him that I had done nothing to be proud of, but I couldn't voice my disagreement, so I let his words float over me and I tried to believe that I was worthy of them.
Justice did not hold me for as long as my mother did, and when he let go, all I could do was stare at them. Our embraces conveyed every word that might be spoken between us. My heart swelled with happiness, I overlooked my frantic magic, and the hopelessness of this war lessened.
Nobody could replace Amory, but they were not supposed to. They held a different place in my life, a different role that I could treasure equally as much and hold equally as close to my heart. They were my parents and I was finally with them.
I thought of Avalon, how he was missing this, how his opportunity to be reunited with his parents was stolen from him, and my purpose was renewed. I would do whatever it took to rescue him. He deserved to be here too, he deserved to hug his mother and feel loved. He deserved to look into his father's eyes and find pride and respect. I finally found the place where I could easily lay myself on the alter and be sacrificed for him.
“How about we go upstairs and talk?” Justice offered and I nodded my agreement, too emotional yet to speak.
I tipped my head at Jericho to join us, and he moved from across the crowd immediately. We were away from each other for days; the need to touch him, to be embraced by him was making my blood tingle.
Sometimes I was so confused and hysterical that I reached out to Jericho for life support, forgetting the attachment growing between us. We kissed once and there hadn't been a moment since to even talk about it, let alone analyze what it meant for us. The days apart from each other made me crave his nearness now and I couldn't make myself wait much longer.
Lilly knew half the crowd from her short days as part of the Amory and Avalon run Resistance and so she had already dragged Aunt Syl into the gathering to mix and mingle. I followed my parents back up the staircase and to the dining room table.
The house was painfully marked with the memory of Amory. His furnishings, all made from dark, expensive wood were freshly polished and dusted. One of a kind antiques and tasteful, priceless art decorated the rooms and an extensive bar, with crystal glasses of every size and shape took up one entire wall of the dining room. The house even smelled like him and so although it was mine, I didn't know if I would ever be able to call it home. Maybe when Avalon got back, he could take it over.
I sat next to Delia and she immediately put her arm around me, rubbed my shoulder and leaned her head against mine sweetly. Justice sat on the other side of her at the head of the table and Jericho sat down directly across from Delia.
This felt like an actual meeting of the minds and I couldn't help but feel more confident with my parents near. I watched them silently for a moment. They were adorably in sync, always aware of exactly what the other one was doing, always watching each other out of the corner of their eyes affectionately and always touching. My father reached one hand out to my mother and she took it instinctively without even looking.
Theirs was a love that was worth risking everything for. They had sacrificed community, friends and family; they left everything they had ever known or cared about behind, just to be together. Their magic moved as one entity, their bodies in perfect harmony; they were the definition of soul mates. Being in their presence almost felt like a religious experience, such was the capacity of their love for each other.
I looked up at Jericho from under my eyelashes, wondering if we would ever love each other like that. Whatever feelings were between us felt utterly immature and childish next to the centuries-old, sacrificial love my parents shared. Still, there was something to look forward to, watching a romance that survived all odds; it gave me something to hope for.
“Eden, there is so much I want to say to you,” Delia turned to me and smiled. Her lips were cherry red and perfect, her smile changed the temperature of the room and her eyes danced with expressiveness. She was exquisite.
“I know,” I blushed, feeling the same way and knowing what I needed to say next, “I'm so sorry about Avalon. I had no idea what would happen, I was selfish and blind and if I had known how Kiran would betray me, I would have never trusted him. I would have never let that happen to Avalon, or to Amory, and please believe I did everything in my power to stop it,” my voice broke from a torrent of emotions. I had been looking for someone to apologize to for months now. I was told repeatedly what happened was not my fault, but my parents were people that would actually be able to forgive me. I was the sole reason for the death of my mother's father and their son's captivity. They had to blame me for at least part of it.
