Page 92 of Until the End of Ever
“Give me a second,” I said, resuming the desperate paddling to stay afloat. “I think—yeah. Just a second.”
I’d never been more unsure. I wasn’t my mother. I hadn’t studied the right way to address gods. And then I thought about Apollo, wearing my bracelet and Silver’s earring, hanging out with us on the cave’s floor. I thought of Cassius, son of Hypnos,son of Nyx. Maybe the gods didn’t really give a damn about propriety.
I’m sorry if I’m doing this all wrong. Poseidon, I beg for your mercy. Please. I’ll bring cupcakes to your altar every month for the rest of my life, I swear. Could you get us out of there?
I felt so very foolish. I was speaking to myself. In my own head. This wasn’t going to work, was it?
No.
I believed it would work. It had to.
Poseidon had saved me once, and I trusted him.
It hit me. What I needed to do. What we both needed to do. It was terrifying, but I was beyond certain it was also right.
“Lucian? Let go.”
“What?”
“We’re not even here. We need to let go.”
“If our minds die, our bodies die, too.”
That might be true, but?—
“Poseidon won’t allow it.” I’d never sounded more positive of anything in my entire life.
Except, perhaps, of the fact that I was hopelessly in love with the man holding on to my hands.
“All right. I’ll see you on the other side.”
And then, we sank into the darkest of abysses.
39
LUCIAN
To be entirely honest, I was reasonably certain we were going to die. I figured letting go together, at peace, rather than losing our strength after days of swimming without a safe shore in sight wasn’t the worst prognosis, so I followed Kleos’s lead.
And then we slammed onto cool, crystal floor, hard enough to bruise. I coughed up half a pool's worth of water, out of my mouth and nostrils, my eyes burning, but I didn’t even care.
“Kleos!” My screams echoed around the translucent blue walls surrounding us.
Her hand was still in mine, wet and cold, but solid.
She didn’t seem in a much better state than I was, equally drenched, her nose and eyes red.
None of that mattered. We were alive.
I brought my lips to hers, needing to feel her more than I needed air, my hands greedily palming every inch of skin I could get to. I would have taken her right there and then if it hadn’t been for an interruption: a slow, steady clap.
We both turned, suddenly more aware of our surroundings.
The walls weren’t blue, they were transparent. We were seeing the deep sea beyond.
We were underwater.
The vast hall we’d landed in was empty, except for a man, calmly lounging on a throne shaped like a wave, a white and gold trident lying across his lap.
