33. Max

33

MAX

T he stone sat on our kitchen table. It was larger than I remembered, and far heavier than I'd anticipated.

The stone itself was tall and jagged, encased in a large basin that seemed to be made of the same iridescent material that Lucifer's blade was composed of. The base of the stone was submerged in a shimmery, thick liquid that seemed to swirl and move of its own accord, the colors shifting and metallic, almost like an oil slick.

In some ways, it reminded me of The River Styx, which made sense—everything seemed to go back to that river.

"So this is it?" Izzy arched her brow, bending over to study the mesmerizing liquid in the basin, but making sure she didn't get close enough to touch it.

It was early, the sun only just rising, but The Lodge had a stillness today that was unusual. I'd gone for a walk earlier and the place felt like a ghost town.

When I realized that the lake was going to be the center of the ritual, I had Charlie clear out everyone staying too close to the shoreline. I had no idea what kind of recoil there'd be with power this uncharted and unpredictable .

I didn't want to have any more blood on my hands than I already did.

She was hesitant at first when I told her my plan, but with The Guild taken care of, there was less reason for us all to remain packed so tightly together. The community had spent the months we'd devoted to training building more lodging further out into the woods. It would be enough to house everyone. At least until things were handled here on my end.

Most people had already begun avoiding the lake after Darius ripped open the portal—something I was belatedly grateful for.

Izzy was one of the few who hadn't been able to resist walking along the water's edge. Like Charlie, I often found her out there in the mornings watching the sunrise, either oblivious to, or unafraid of the portal that occasionally shimmered on the skyline.

Izzy had been working odd hours in the med ward, which meant that her sleep schedule was as unbalanced as mine. She'd found me wandering out there early this morning and brought me some fresh coffee—a gesture that had clogged my throat with gratitude.

I wish I'd spent more time with her, that the time we did spend together hadn't been so bogged down in planning out missions and chores.

"This is it," I whispered, trying not to wake the others.

I couldn't pull my eyes from it, the urge to run my fingers over the stone almost impossible to resist.

Last night, after healing Dec and filling Charlie and the others in on what had happened, I fell asleep, exhausted, sandwiched between Dec and Eli.

But I only slept for a few hours. Between the remnants of anger and power flooding through my veins, and the constant urge to keep checking on the stone, sleep had proven nearly impossible for me, no matter how tired I was .

Every breath I waited felt too long, every second a lifetime of too late, too late, too late echoing through my mind.

I'd crawled out from Eli's limbs several times, just to come look at the stone, to make sure it was here, that we'd really found it.

It was mesmerizing, the way the moonlight pouring through the window highlighted the strange, swirling colors that seemed to be in constant motion. And then, from some angles, it would look entirely ordinary—so ordinary that I was almost convinced we had the wrong thing, that this rock couldn't possibly be the key to saving so many lives.

As if it heard me, the stone answered my doubts by sending a gentle thrum against my skin, like livewire.

Around midnight, I overheard Wade, Darius, and Atlas whispering together in one of the other bedrooms.

They were too quiet for me to catch more than a stray word here and there, but I knew they were up to something, that they were going to try to stop me from going through with it altogether. Finding the stone and identifying the nexus changed everything—moved things along far more quickly than they'd been hoping for.

But they didn't feel the same urgency that I did, they didn't taste the sour twist of magic in the air, didn't feel the plane between realms pulsing with breath.

They were out of time.

I was out of time.

Izzy shivered and stepped back from the rock. "Can't believe this is what they've been using to forge bonds. So surreal." She turned to me, her hand unconsciously hovering a few inches above one of the jagged ridges of the stone. When she noticed, she flinched, and pulled her arm back, folding it over her chest. "And you're sure it will work for the ritual too?"

I bit my lip, remembering the first time I saw the stone—the bonding ritual between Atlas and Reza .

The air flared with the memory, growing hot and angry.

When I glanced back at the stone, it seemed to almost glow—there one moment, then gone the next, almost like it felt my memory, and the pain laced within it.

I knew the limits of what this stone could achieve were beyond our comprehension. Something about its proximity created a buzz in the air, and late, in the darkest parts of the night, I was almost certain I could hear a voice calling to me from it, begging me to reunite it with the lake outside.

"Yes, it'll work."

In one of the brief reprieves of sleep I'd managed to steal, I'd dreamt of the ritual, watching it play out like an old movie. I knew what I had to do, how I had to do it. I wasn't sure if the stone was sentient, if it sent me the dream itself somehow, or if the dream was some latent memory passed down in my blood, risen to the surface now that it was time.

I supposed it didn't matter either way.

Izzy grabbed my hand, squeezing softly, her voice barely even a whisper. "When?"

I cleared my throat, studying her. When I saw her eyes glaze over with grief, her throat bobbing as she fought desperately to contain it, I squeezed her hand back. She knew what this ritual meant, knew that I would go through with it. Unlike the others, she wouldn't argue with me, wouldn't convince me to wait.

We were out of time—a truth I felt so viscerally that it might as well have been tattooed into my bones.

"Now."

She tensed next to me, her head shooting to the doors down the hall, before she dropped my hand and grabbed me by the shoulders instead, turning me towards her until her eyes were all I saw. "You're not waking them? You're not saying goodbye?"

My throat tightened. I slid my hand into my pocket and pulled out a small, tattered notebook. I'd spent the first part of my morning writing them letters, each of them—inking in my wishes and hopes for their futures, telling them how much I loved them, thanking them for giving me so much joy, so much love since meeting them. There would never be enough words to give them, never enough time, but it would have to do.

"Can you give them this wh—" my voice broke, and I took a moment to collect myself before handing her the pages, "when it's done? There's a letter for you too." I licked my lips, sniffing as I tried to hold it together. "And Ro."

My chest squeezed at the thought of my brother, at the thought of leaving him behind—the last remnant of a family I'd taken for granted too many times.

I squeezed my eyes closed, reminding myself over and over again that he wouldn't be alone. He had Arnell, he had Izzy, he had this entire community he'd helped build. He'd be okay.

I hadn't planned on telling Izzy beforehand. I hadn't planned on telling anyone. They knew it was coming, but prolonging the inevitable, the goodbyes, just seemed impossibly cruel to us all.

Mostly because I wasn't sure how to say goodbye. Wasn't sure I could go through with it after lingering in that pain with them all. Wasn't sure if I'd have the strength to leave them when they begged me to stay.

So, I'd written them letters.

This would be better, I'd told myself. I'd save them from witnessing it. They'd simply wake up in a few hours to a new world—a better one, hopefully.

They'd be angry, devastated, but they'd be alive. They'd realize that we succeeded. And they'd have each other.

They'd be okay.

They could build a new life, a new world.

I pressed the notebook into Izzy's hands, and she dropped it, like it had burned her, the soft thud echoing in the silence around us.

"Max, no." She shook her head, tears carving silent and angry tracks down her cheeks. "You can't do that. It isn't right. You can't just do this on your own. It's not fair to them, and it's not fair to you either. And Ro, he doesn't deserve this?—"

"I can't say goodbye to them," I whispered, unable to meet her stare. "I won't be able to do it. I know it's not fair, trust me. None of this is fair." My voice broke on a tremor. "But I have to do it alone. It's the only way I can go through with it."

I squeezed my hands into fists to cover up how badly they were shaking. I wanted to be brave, to face the ritual with pride and purpose. But I was fucking terrified. And if they gave me an out, which I knew they'd try to do, it would be only more difficult for me to resist—for me to see my own heartbreak mirrored on their faces and not do everything I could to repair it.

"Well, you won't be alone." Izzy grabbed my hands, unfolding my fists and threading my fingers through hers. I could tell she wanted to argue, to say more, but her face softened, relenting. "I'll stay with you," she squeezed my hands, "until the end."

My lips trembled, the word ‘no' stuck on my tongue.

I swallowed it back and nodded.

I'd allow myself this one comfort.

I sniffed. "If things get shaky, or something dangerous happens, promise me you'll go? I have Charlie, Haley, and the others on alert."

"Promise."

The lake was freezing, but I welcomed the chill as I stepped in.

It helped ground me, tuning out the soft buzzing in my ears, the stiffness in my hands. It was like my mind was fighting to separate from my body, like I was watching myself from above—here but also not.

I blinked, the soft glow of the sun warm against my cheek, forcing myself to focus on the bitter chill against my skin. I couldn't dissociate from this, I needed to be here, to focus.

Izzy stood close to the rocky shore, the closest I'd let her get, arms wrapped around herself as she shook with silent tears. Ralph was next to her, ready to rush her away if needed.

He'd followed us out, despite my panicked attempts to lull him back to sleep in the cabin.

I couldn't hide from Ralph though. There was a magic about him that I didn't understand, that I couldn't fight. He'd sensed the truth of the situation without me uttering a word.

Izzy and I'd agreed, no goodbyes. But pulling out of her bone-crushing hug for the last time had almost broken me, especially when it was punctured by Ralph's soft whine.

I gave them a soft smile before I trudged deeper into the lake, the stone and basin oddly floating in front of me, the fixture somehow abandoning its bulky weight in the water.

The basin zipped with an electric energy the moment the water touched it, shooting lightning zaps from where my skin guided it, all the way through my spine.

I'd closed the bond links as best as I could when I'd woken up this morning. I didn't want them to feel what I felt, to know my plans before I had a chance to execute them, to feel when—when I was gone.

It was a betrayal, one that would haunt me in whatever world I crossed over into.

I let myself feel the soft hum of my team one more time, let the warmth there, strengthened by love, wash over me.

They'd be okay.

Everything would be okay.

I visualized the tethers between us that had become so clear in my mind the last few months. All of our work strengthening, nurturing them had made them feel psychically physical in a way they hadn't before.

I took a deep breath, basking in their rightness, their strength.

And then, I visualized severing them, swallowing my scream at the sudden hollowness, the stabbing pain.

I let myself mourn the loss for one moment, and then, I waded further, squeezing the amulet that dangled from my neck just below the locket Cy had given me.

Michael's amulet was warm to the touch, and surprisingly helped ease the new ache in my chest. I didn't understand it, didn't know if it would be useful. There'd been no amulet in the strange dream-walk I had. But it reminded me of Saif, of Sayty. And if I had to do this alone, bringing these small ties to family helped me feel less lonely.

The stone sparked and shimmered when we reached the strange portal Darius had torn open. It hadn't remained permanently open, but there'd been moments, when the breeze fluttered just right, that I could see the tear between worlds.

This was where it would happen.

Holding my hand up to the shimmering sky, I let my fingers trace along the edges of the portal. It felt different than the others I'd been through, and seemed to almost welcome my presence, like it was guiding me home, my skin tingling in the places where I traced it.

Taking a deep breath, I shoved the lingering fears deep into the recesses of my mind, letting my body guide me through a ritual it had memorized long before it belonged to me.

I pulled my hand back then, with a fluid motion, sliced the flesh of my palm against the sharp ridge of the stone. I watched as my blood washed over the side, collecting in the shimmering pool of liquid.

My movements were mechanical, transfixed as the scene played out just as it had in my dream, the directions easy to follow as if there were no way to mess this up.

The pool of liquid changed colors as it mixed with my blood, and I waited until there was enough of it, enough of my power swirling in the depths—until it turned the milky-white it had in my dream.

My heartbeat raged against my ribs, the wind picking up with urgency, until my hair whipped against my face in thick ropes of black.

Though the water had been still when I entered, waves crashed around me now, tumultuous and thirsty, the water spilling into the basin and joining the murky mixture there.

With a deep, panicked breath, I brought my lips to the ridge of the bowl and took deep sips of the liquid until it was drained to the bottom.

The iridescence of the stone was gone now, but it glowed a gentle blue.

When I looked down at my arms, I saw the glow mirrored in my veins.

The mixture was bitter, repulsive and I fought to keep it down as my body fought just as hard to reject it.

My throat burned with fire and I clutched my stomach as sharp pangs shot through me.

Breathing became impossible, my lungs suddenly raw and tight.

I ignored the pain, my lips and tongue seamlessly shaping the words of the ritual. It was a language I didn't know or understand, but my mouth formed the lilting phrases with precision and ease, a familiarity and mastery that was etched in my body, deep in my roots, my voice a sister song to another that had long been unanswered.

My arms stretched out, like they were preparing for a hug, and my body began to lift towards the portal seam, held there in mid-air, floating above the water, weightless. My mouth stretched wide in a scream, though the sound that emerged matched the cadence of the spell.

Tears streamed down my face as every atom in my body opened raw and wide, magic and power slicing through me, the pain deep and unrelenting, but still, I welcomed it.

My thoughts were slower than usual, like they were fighting their way to form through a viscous liquid.

Not tears, I realized. I was crying blood. I watched it drip a crimson pool into the lake at my waist, a dark, thick river.

Blood that I tasted on my tongue as it spilled from the seam of my lips.

This, this was it. It was almost done.

My trembling body eased at the promise that it would fall into rest soon.

Thunder sounded around me, a perfect base to the song ripping from my lungs, shocks of lightning bolting through the sky—now dark and angry, no sun in sight.

There was rustling behind me, yelling, but I ignored it. I couldn't turn my head, couldn't remove my focus from the stone as the portal stretched and widened, shaping into something new—not a shape at all.

My vision blurred as the portal cut through me, and I knew it was almost over. I felt my feeble flesh wither against it, no match for the power that pulsed in the air—a one-use vessel that would melt with the barrier it sifted, one and the same.

The rustling around me grew louder, closer—and then there was a new pain, one that I wasn't prepared for.

A hand grabbed mine, pulling my body back down to the water, grounding me.

The bonds I'd fought so hard to seal off, the lines of connection I thought I'd permanently severed, burst open with a new flare of power.

I turned my head, finding a pair of familiar brown eyes, threaded with gold, pupils blown wide .

Atlas.

His stare locked on mine, and while I saw a brief flash of anger at my betrayal, it was overshadowed by affection, by determination.

Darius grabbed my other hand, and as I shifted, I saw them all. I felt them all—Wade, Eli, and Declan too, connected to me with a strength I was too weak to fight against no matter how hard I tried.

No.

I knew their intentions as if they were my own. They were going to stay, even if it meant they died with me.

They'd waited until the exact moment I was too physically drained to fight them.

I tried to tug my hands away, panic gripping me, choking me. No. No. No.

But their hold only grew tighter, enforced with a power and magic I couldn't fend off.

We're with you , Declan's voice echoed in my head, soft and sure and so filled with love that my body ached with it. Until the end.

Darius's stare found mine, and I saw my own pain mirrored in him, mirrored in them all. Their bodies were nothing against this power. The ritual would destroy them all.

Didn't they see that this was hopeless? Wasteful?

No getting rid of us, Little Protector. We'll follow you in this life and in the next.

Their decision, their confirmation rippled through them all.

Never much cared for the singular chosen-one-martyr trope , Eli's voice still held humor alongside the pain.

Community, right? Wade echoed. We're in this together.

They huddled closer, until their warmth pressed against me from all sides, cocooning me as the waves of power shot through us all. Our breaths became one, then slowed to a halt .

I fought desperately to pull the magic through me, to protect them from the worst of it, but they fought me in turn, greedily pulling it through the bonds the moment I had hold of it.

And then, as the connection between us pulled tight and fractured, began to wither from the duress, the strangest thing happened.

It somehow grew stronger, angrier—fortified.

I blinked, my heart beating a new rhythm, a warm, familiar presence growing stronger in my bones.

"Ro?" His name was a rasp on my lips as he grabbed my shoulder.

His expression was rigid, his eyes fierce as I felt his own strength infuse mine.

And then another wave of power, strengthening us again.

"Izzy."

Her gray eyes locked on mine, determined and hard as she pushed her strength into me.

Her friendship raked against my skin, burrowing deep—her love, as solid and intentional as my team's and my brother's.

"We're not leaving you," Ro said, his jaw rigid as he fought to get the words out, the force pressing down on me, on us, crushing. "You are a part of us all, Max."

Emotion clutched at my throat, thick and hot, as my vision blurred.

Then, the small trickle of strength that they lent grew into a flood.

When I turned, my neck craning back beyond the clutch of my team, I saw Charlie alongside Ralph, her face set in determination.

Next to them, Mer, Haley, and Jace. Then Claude, Nash, and Nika. And beyond them, Arnell, Sharla—the entire community housed at The Lodge. There had to be over a hundred of them .

Ropes of power tethered me to them, their strength reinforcing my own as they lent me as much as they could.

No.

Fear lashed through me.

What were they doing? What were they thinking?

I'd be the death of them all.

"NO." I pushed the word out, fought with every fiber of my being to free myself from their clutches. Their compassion would kill them all. "No."

This wasn't how this was supposed to happen, this wasn't what was planned. No more death. Just mine. It was supposed to end with me.

This was always your army, Max , Atlas's voice filtered through my panic. This is what it means to be a community, the kind worth being a part of anyway.

Besides, you can't have all the glory, Little Protector. I quite like the idea of going out a hero—no one would ever expect it.

As if the others had heard Darius's words, the lines of connection grew more urgent, forceful, carving into me with a ferocity that matched that of the shadow magic lining the realms.

The world shimmered and shifted, the ground shaking and fracturing at our feet.

Still, they held steady, their strength infusing my own as power, unlike anything I'd felt before, flooded through me.

The portal tore open, until I saw The Styx shimmering through it, and beyond it, Lucifer, Sam, and Serae—their expressions hard and unyielding.

When they saw me, Lucifer and Sam tore into the water, eyes wide and urgent when they saw the others there too. Serae's eyes gleamed from the shoreline, and when they met mine, she nodded once.

But The Styx would kill them, wouldn't it ?

Their power pulsed through me as the distance between us closed.

The amulet vibrated against my chest, emitting a soft glow—a warmth that seeped into my skin like lava.

A sharp light eclipsed my vision, bright and unyielding, until I could see nothing else.

Still, I felt them all, the threads of their power braiding together with mine. They multiplied and pulsed, nearly as bright and fortified as the bonds that tied me to my team. Different, but just as strong.

And then a new thread, this one unfamiliar and unseen, but I could taste it as it flooded through me. It was similar to mine, but also not, and it barreled into me with purpose.

I clung to it desperately as all feeling and senses blurred at the edges into nothingness, my body no longer mine.

There was an ear-shattering crack, and then the absence of sound, one sharp tether of pain, gripping taut at my chest—and then it was cut, undone, the worlds slipping away into nothing.