Chapter 25 A Song Louder Than Any Other Song

25

A Song Louder Than Any Other Song

Two weeks later, the Cavalcade's closing Sabbat found us all gathered around Lady's Lake at midnight, the moon peering down on us through the pines like Nyx's silver eye.

The families crowded the banks, the watchful evergreens at our backs, all of us careful not to trample the purple sprigs of spiky thistle that ringed the water. Despite the emerald aurora that writhed above as if caught in a celestial wind, like a veil fluttering over the cut-glass stars, all eyes were on the four elders who stood on the conjured island of ice that floated in the middle of the lake.

Of course, the water was perfectly clear and calm. After all that worrying about managing the weather, we needn't have fretted about storms. There hadn't been a single one since I'd destroyed Chernobog.

I was grateful for the reprieve that fortnight had given me; without it, I wouldn't have mustered the strength to be here. Ivy had spent all her spare time holed up with me in the cottage, feeding me, infusing me with more healing magic, cuddling and making love once I was recovered enough for more high-impact activities. I suffered recurring nightmares, too. Horrible dreams in which I didn't manage to defeat the god, or in which I did but remained helplessly trapped on the other side, always out of reach of the heart tree's boughs—or the most awful, the ones in which I chose to stay with him and my resurrected parents in that frigid castle. I'd wake from them sobbing in heartbreak, and Ivy would hold me against her and sing to me for as long as it took me to calm. To remember what had happened, that I'd chosen well.

We couldn't get enough of each other, not after the close call we'd had. I hadn't apologized for my decision, either, even though I knew part of her still resented the fact that I'd done the Lady's bidding at my own risk—and at the risk of never coming back to her. Not even my beloved was so completely selfless, as much as she intellectually understood why it had been necessary.

Besides, she knew better than anyone what it had cost me.

Because I couldn't cross the veil anymore. I'd tried for the first time a few days ago, just to test myself—and even though I'd been almost sure I wouldn't be able to, the knowing hadn't prepared me for the way the boundary felt like running into a stone wall rather than the diaphanous partition I'd been accustomed to my entire life. And when I reached inside myself, I could find no trace of that deep hunger stirring in response.

As far as I could tell, I wasn't a devil eater anymore, either.

Both Ivy and I had been taken aback by the depth of my grief at the loss. On some level, it should have been a relief, this abrupt excision of temptation and responsibility, the need for restraint and self-control taken out of my hands. It wasn't as though I'd lost my ability to practice necromantic magic; I was still perfectly capable of casting other spells, exactly as powerful as I'd been before. But still, I felt like I'd been stripped of some crucial part of me, an integral component of my identity. Ivy had held me through that, too, as I cried for what seemed like hours.

And tonight, even if I still hadn't come to terms with what the rest of my life would look like, at least I knew I'd have Ivy's hand to hold, our love to bolster me through it. She'd even chosen to stand with me rather than with the Thorns, as if our allegiance to each other transcended family.

"We are ready to begin, Lady," Emmy called out from the ice island Gareth had conjured for them. It reminded me of the glacier bridges he'd used in the first challenge of the Gauntlet of the Grove, what felt like a decade ago but had only been a handful of years. "With your permission?"

"Not quite yet, please," Belisama-as-Maya's voice came belling from somewhere in the crowd. A moment later, the witches around Ivy and me parted to let her through, and she and I came face-to-face again for the first time since she'd sent me to destroy Chernobog for her.

She wore a draped golden dress instead of my borrowed clothing, and a gold circlet set with amber and tourmaline sat low on her brow, her eyes beneath it glowing a matching amber and blue. Her smile at me was tentative, both proud and rueful; so she knew I'd been angry with her during my recovery. She hadn't come to visit her alleged champion once, keeping to Harlow House for the duration of my convalescence.

I'd been hurt and resentful, and worse than that, I'd missed her. How could she stay away when I was the one who needed her?

"I know," she said, in that impossible, ethereal voice, her lovely eyes pooling with regret—so it was Belisama tonight, Maya in the background. "Forgive me for not coming to you sooner. I did not wish for you to witness my grief for his loss, not after the enormity of your sacrifice. It would have been the utmost disrespect to inflict the sight of it on you. But know that I am grateful beyond words for the gifts of peace and freedom that you have given me, no matter what it may have cost me to accept them. And that I will never forget what you did at my behest."

She offered me her hands, and I hesitated even through the compulsion to sink to my knees and pay obeisance to her, gritting my teeth.

"Did you know?" I asked her, low, refusing to drop my gaze. "That destroying him would mean I wouldn't be a devil eater anymore?"

"Not for absolutely certain," she replied, pressing her lips together, eyes shimmering. "But I knew there would be a strong chance. What was in you was powerful, but he…he was a god. That it might strip you of that power was something I considered very possible. Was I wrong in thinking that, if so, it would be worth it anyway?"

I considered it. The trade of the dark gift that had been a gorgeous torment, for the safety of my town and the freedom of my goddess. It was worth it, I decided—but still, she should have asked.

"I know I forced your hand by not telling you what you might lose by being so brave," she said, as if she'd anticipated this response, too—the way she might have anticipated all of this, from the moment Elias Harlow lowered her from his cupped hands into this very lake. "But that willingness, that devotion, the fire of that protective spirit—that was what it would have taken, to defeat the chaos and void of him. And now I ask you, Dasha Avramov, do you truly want it back? Would you have me remake you in your own former image, exactly as you were? If you do, it can be done. As my gift to you."

I could feel Ivy's hand tighten on mine, the sharp intake of her breath as she considered the implications.

Did I want to be who I was? I wondered. Or did I want this second chance, the opportunity to build myself anew? To see who I could become, without that gift and burden always shaping my path?

Maybe that was the truer gift—a new way to exist, a new life to discover. Perhaps less tantalizing and adventurous than the one I'd had before, but calmer, deeper, more reflective. Allowing me to sink into quieter, more meaningful joys.

"No," I said finally, with a firm shake of the head, allowing myself to take one of Belisama's hands without letting go of Ivy's. "I'll stay the way I am and see what I can make of it."

A slow smile curved her lips at that, as warm and inviting as a Samhain bonfire, nearly as dazzling as one of Ivy's smiles. "I am pleased to hear it. That is what makes you human, you know. The power to choose, to reinvent yourself. To break free of cycles and chains that cause you harm, rather than stay unchanging as we divine. Locked into our aspects while everything else in the universe wheels freely around us."

"But you did it, too," I whispered, squeezing her hand. "When you decided to become yourself without him, and asked me to help you. I know it hurt like it might tear you apart. And I—I can't blame you for grieving. How could you not? You lost a piece of yourself, too, just like I did."

Those tears finally spilled over, gleaming an inhuman gold on Maya's cheeks. "Thank you for understanding, my daughter of light and dark. I trusted that you would, in time."

She leaned forward and brushed her lips over mine, the lightest graze. I could taste some of those goddess tears on her, like effervescent honey, light made liquid. Exactly what she was, in essence.

Without releasing my hand, she turned back toward the lake, calling out: "My kin, my blood, my supplicants…you may begin the final worship!"

As soon as she spoke the last word, all four elders cast into the sky—a final and true re-creation of the founding, meant for the witch families' eyes alone.

As Margarita Avramov once had, Elena called on the shades that haunted the Witch Woods, bringing them drifting, gray and tattered, in a spinning circle high above them. At the same time, Aspen Thorn emulated Alastair Thorn's avian summoning, and all at once the whole sky seemed to fill with the birds that roosted in every dale and glen of Thistle Grove, the sound of their cries and flapping wings somehow as joyful as it was dissonant. Finally, Gareth lifted an outstretched hand and drew down a skyful of silent lightning, its forking bolts perfectly synchronized as they harmlessly struck the circle of pines around the lake in a blinding display. Just as Caelia Blackmoore's lightning once had, four centuries ago.

And though the Grimoire didn't specify this part, consigning Elias Harlow's role to that of a modest scribe, it was Emmy who cried out: "Up on this hallowed hill, four families as one…we consecrate this lake in the Lady's sacred name!"

That sapphire-blue light poured from her in waves, sliding into the water, illuminating all of the lake as if thousands of massive floodlights had been switched on all at once.

"Oh." Belisama exhaled beside me, her fingers slipping loose from mine. "Thank you. Thank you, my kin and children, for everything you've done, for how you have restored my strength. And now I bid you all farewell—though my stone will always stay with you, lodged in the silt where none may disturb it. This lake will hold my blessing and your magic for all the years yet to come."

Even though the words were spoken in a whisper so poignant I could have sworn all of us teared up, we heard her parting words so clearly they may as well have been a thundering shout. Next to me, Maya flared in a blinding flash of sapphire—and then all that light spiraled out of her, surging up into the sky like a beacon. Pulsing like a tremendous heart, once, twice, three times, before vanishing, melting away into the dark.

For a moment, stunned silence settled over the lake, hushed and bereft. None of us completely able to believe that Belisama, our Lady of the Lake for all the time our town had stood, was well and truly gone.

Next to me, Maya staggered, clutching a hand to her chest. "Ugh," she groaned, gripping on to me as I caught her. "Not that I mind so much, considering everything. But that last part fucking hurt ."

Ivy rushed over to her other side, helping me boost her up. "Do you…Are you okay?" she asked, peering into Maya's face. "Maya, do you remember who you are?"

"Oh, yeah. My divine roomie cleared all the way out." She tapped her temple with a rueful little wince, her eyes back to that clear, pale honey-hazel. "I'll miss her—how often do you get to host a goddess?—but damn, it's nice to be just me again. And it's Teyana. Maya was just the closest I could come to remembering. Part of her name, mixed with part of mine."

BelisaMA, TeYAna , I realized, just as I caught the flash of matching comprehension on Ivy's face. MAYA .

"And you really feel completely fine?" I asked, unable to believe it, after everything she'd been through.

"Better than fine, now that the sting of that abrupt peace-out's wearing off," she replied, moving away from us to lift her arms up and stretch, clearly no longer needing our support. "Could've given me a heads-up that that was going to happen, rude. But she did get rid of all my aches and pains before she left. Shit, I'm probably not even lactose intolerant anymore!"

"You remember your dietary restrictions, that's a start," Ivy commented wryly, and all three of us laughed, puncturing the tension. "And everything else? How you got to Hallows Hill? Why you were here at all?"

"I'm a traveling nurse," Maya— Teyana , I reminded myself, that would take some getting used to —replied, reaching up to lift the circlet off her curls, as if wearing it was no longer appropriate. "I was here on a job that I timed so I could see the Cavalcade once I was off. I love witchy shit, always have. And I'm from Carbondale, so I've been here a bunch of times before for festivals."

"So close," Ivy marveled. "How was no one looking for you?"

"I used to be a foster kid, so not much in the way of permanent family. I do have a bunch of great friends, but they're used to me kind of dropping off the grid when I'm busy with work. And I'm fairly notorious for forgetting to charge my phone, wherever it even ended up."

"All around convenient," I said.

"For sure. I don't know if she really meant to pick me, though. I was at the Avramov spectacle, right before—and then everything was hazy after. I could only remember snippets of the performance. I'd been drinking, so the glamour hit me even harder, I guess. I wandered around town, looking for somewhere I felt comfortable, and I've always liked being out in the open. So I went to sit at those picnic benches in that little park at the base of Hallows Hill." She wrinkled her nose in bewilderment. "I know it sounds nuts, but it just made sense at the time to make the hike up to the summit. Even though it was dark, and obviously I shouldn't have been trying to climb alone. That must've been my divine roomie, calling me."

I thought of Teyana's sweetness and humor, her unbelievable grace and resilience even in a terrifying situation, the fact that she worked with people in a way that required compassion.

"I think she knew what she was doing in ways that we're never going to fully understand," I offered. The crowd around us had begun to disperse, clusters of family members drifting off toward home to process what had happened tonight. We'd lost the goddess we'd only recently even learned we had; we'd survived the onslaught of a god. What happened next, I doubted even the Grimoire could prescribe for us. "And you? What do you want to do now?"

"Tomorrow, I'm going to need to buy myself a new phone and make a whole bunch of calls to get my life together," she said, scrunching up her face at all the logistical annoyances that lay ahead. I felt her on that one. When it came to unpleasantness, bureaucratic paperwork gave even chthonic gods a run for their money. "And then I think I need a little break from this place, to catch up with friends and make sure they know I haven't actually dropped off the face of the earth. But I think I'll be back soon. This town…it feels a little like home now, too."

She smiled up at me and Ivy, tipping her head. "And the two of you are feeling a lot like family, I have to admit. So if you wouldn't mind yet another night of me crashing with one of you…"

"Yes, definitely, absolutely," I said all in a rush, eager to keep her with us as long as I could. "Want a ride home with us?"

She pursed her lips thoughtfully, then shook her head. "No, I think I'll take the walk down. Kind of retrace the steps that got me here, you know? Clear my head. I'll catch a rideshare at the bottom or see if one of the Harlows will take me. Meet you at your place."

"Okay," I said, knowing it'd be safe for her; plenty of the families would have chosen to walk down tonight, too. Unlike the original ascent, she wouldn't be making this descent alone. "Ivy and I might stay up here for another little while. Just to decompress."

She huffed out a laugh. "Trust me, I get it. I'll see you both soon. And I mean, if you want to pick up some late-night burgers…I wouldn't exactly mind ."

"We'll feed you," Ivy assured her, chuckling. "Don't you worry. We know the drill."

With a wink over her shoulder—did I imagine it, or was there the faintest glimmer of gold in the human hazel?—Teyana turned and disappeared into the receding crowd.

Ivy and I faced the darkened lake, arms around each other's waists. I felt so strange, both entirely off-kilter and completely content, as if I were exactly where I was meant to be. Even if Belisama was no longer here, would never be again.

"I'm still coming to see you be Glinda, you know," Ivy murmured to me, kissing my ear. "Don't think I've forgotten that beautiful travesty, not even after everything that happened tonight."

"I hope you do," I told her, turning to nuzzle against her cheek. "I hope we both get to see every beautiful travesty that happens to either of us. And I hope we get to see it exactly like this, side by side."

"You're gonna be singing a different tune after I start chanting ‘GO, STARSHINE!' every time you set foot on that stage."

"I'm going to keep saying it no matter what," I told her. "Forever."

She held my gaze, her beautiful eyes reflecting the faceted glimmer of the water, a warm half smile curling her lips. "I do really fucking love you, Dasha Avramov."

"And I love you, Ivy Thorn of the Thistle Grove Thorns, blessed by the powers of root and earth, of light and green and—"

"And if you don't cut that cheesy shit out, I'm going to kiss it right off your corny mouth," Ivy warned, struggling not to smile wider.

"What a brazen, wanton threat! I can't imagine a worse fate than—"

She cut me off as promised, a hand wrapped around my nape to draw me to her and plush lips pressed soft against mine, sparkling happiness shimmering throughout my veins. And it was perfect timing on her part, because I wasn't about to say it aloud, not yet…but maybe one day not so long from now, we'd get married right here, with the music of the spheres from that well of worlds still ringing in my ears. Because a life lived next to Ivy would always sing louder than any other song.

Especially in this fairy tale of a town that had once held a sleeping goddess in its lake and rivers of magic in its blood.