Page 131 of Aïdes the Unseen
The end oftheirs. The women both gazed at Irina with what I suspected might be affection, but also acceptance. They were ready and had been. The light bloomed behind Irina—not borrowed, not given. Born. Not from them.From her.For the first time in ten thousand forgotten ages, Irina became more of who she always was. Not prey. Not a child. But a reckoning.
A QUIET BETWEEN STORMS
She slept again after.
On her side, curled like a fallen crescent, the dog pressed against her back, guarding even in dreams. I held fast to the last gift Melinoë had given me. She called it an anchor, so I kept it safe, nurtured in the cradle of my power.
If a time came during this journey she could no longer remember herself, I would hold it for her. My hands shook, but my resolve never did. Should the time come that she needed myheart carved out, offered on the altar of her rebirth, I would give it.
Gladly.
THE GARDEN OF SILK AND STONE
We found her name carved into a slab of marble under the roots of a white cypress. A new one, not Irina, Persephone, or Kore.
Olwen.
Irina traced it with her fingertips, and something inside hershuddered.Like a fault line cracking wide open. She remembered the woman who had journeyed with her lover, desperate to complete every single task that would allow them to be together. Endless tasks, tasks no one thought they would complete.
“She never wanted to go back,” she said softly, voice tight with grief and wonder.
“You don’t have to,” I promised even as I accepted the knowledge that she would. Because Olwen had left for love—and Irina was the part of her still brave enough to return for it.
HELIOPOLIS
Isis didn’t look at me. She never had to. Her disdain was a blade honed over centuries, but I wasn’t worried about her approval or lack thereof.
“So, you are back,” she murmured. “Finally.”
The words puzzled me. This being was not Irina nor any of the others, but she knew her. “Yes,” Irina answered.
“What do you want?”
“My name.” So much power wound through a name. Her challenge to such a primordial power was neither an entreaty nor a demand. It was an expectation.
With a long sigh, Isis lifted her gaze to the distance. I didn’t make the mistake of looking away from her. She was a goddess of lifeanddeath. A being that straddled the in between. It made sense that she would have a piece.
“Do you think you areready?”The coldness in her voice surprised me, but Irina merely shrugged.
“I think I am real and I think the name ismine.” She did not bend, her frail mortal frame stood even straighter as the goddess finally met her gaze. “I bled for it. I broke for it. I remember all of it.”
“And after you have it?” Isis tipped her head. “You expect justice?”
“No,” Irina said quietly. “I expectfreedom.”
The silence after was taut as wire. I watched Isis measure Irina like a rival, not a daughter of the court. She flicked a glance to the dog, then to me before returning that speculative look to Irina. “Nepthys.”
With that utterance, she vanished.
Irina swayed.
I caught her before her knees hit the ground.
THE CHAMBER OF ECHOES
Her past selves spoke here. Too many voices, layered over one another. Laughing. Weeping. Cursing.
“You were a healer.”
