Give Me (Wyrd and Fae #1)(43)

Diantha.

Elyse was gone, but Lilith carried the memories of a thousand years’ battle with Galen and Diantha, fighting against possession, mourning her sister Lourdes.

Lilith looked at Cade/Galen again. Diantha’s longing for him was so strong, it hurt. A thousand years of denial hadn’t worked. Galen and Diantha had been cheated out of life on the eve of their lives together and cheated out of heaven—or hell—too. Yet their love had lasted all those centuries.

It wasn’t fair.

Cade took her hand. “I know everything,” he said. “Everything Galen knows, anyway.”

“I’d give them what they want,” Lilith said. “But I won’t risk hurting you.” She couldn’t ask him to make the sacrifice she contemplated.

“My eyes are wide open. Let’s do it.”

He held her head between his hands and kissed her again. Lilith didn’t know if he was Cade or Galen. Hell, was she still herself? She felt dizzy. Brown flecks appeared in Cade’s green eyes. They turned hazel and then dark brown. Part of her felt so, so sad. Another part filled with so much joy she thought she’d explode.

At last they were alone together. No one was here but the two of them. He loved her. There was delight in his eyes—and undeniable desire. She had wanted him for so long, a thousand years.



At dawn the next day, Brother Sun said hello to Sister Moon. They looked down, both eager to see what would happen next.

The two lovers had returned to Glimmer Cottage the night before. They emerged now, arm in arm, and walked. They walked through the village, through the castle ruins, and ended at Igdrasil.

Diantha said, “We have to give it back. It’s lovely, but it’s wrong.”

“I don’t know how.” Galen held his love’s hands and kissed her forehead. “But we’ll find a way.”

“This.” Diantha held up her hand. The silver and gold ring glimmered in the sunlight. “This is the key.”

“I agree.”

They kissed, maybe for the last time. “I’m afraid,” Diantha said. “Don’t let me go.”

“Give me your hand,” he said.

Galen removed the ring from her finger and laid it on the ground like an offering, in the space between two large roots where he had once contemplated using the glamour dust.

“Help us, Igdrasil.” Galen stepped back beside Diantha.

“We don’t belong here,” she said.

The earth trembled. A sound like thunder boomed against the cliffs and rolled in all directions, over the castle ruins and Tintagos Village and Glimmer Cottage. An explosion of energy knocked them to the ground.

When they looked up, Igdrasil had been cleft down the middle as if hit by lightning.

The waters of the Severn Sea roiled in clashing waves. Dark clouds consolidated over the waters. A monstrous beast in the form of a man emerged from the howling winds and hovered above them.

“At last, I will have my bride.” The sky god stretched his hand toward broken Igdrasil and culled a stream of ghostly energy from the branches and leaves. The energy consolidated into the shape of a woman with long dark hair who grew more substantial with each minute—and more beautiful.

“Lourdes.” Galen whispered.

Lourdes’s spirit looked back over her shoulder. There was vague recognition in her expression but no interest, no happiness—or anger—at seeing Galen.

“You were always too much for any man, Lourdes,” Galen said. “You deserve a god.”

A little smile turned up one corner of Lourdes’s mouth. “I reached that conclusion nine hundred and ninety-five years ago.” She turned to take the sky god’s extended arm.

“Wait!” Galen cried out. “Aeolios, I beg you!”

The sky god was indeed Aeolios, a god humans did best to avoid. But Galen was an exceptionally brave young man who’d learned over the millennium to grab opportunity when it presented itself.

“Aeolios!” Galen called again. “I ask a favor in honor of your…your coming nuptials.”

The god hovered, gazing at Galen the way a mediocre king looks on his lowest subject. He didn’t answer, but he didn’t strike Galen down either.

“A favor, good Aeolios.” Galen looked to Diantha for her consent. “We were wronged by the wyrder Elyse, though she meant to save us. Still, we don’t belong here.”

“You have the power to make things right,” Diantha said. “Return these bodies to their rightful owners.”

The deep voice of the god rumbled, barely distinguishable from far off thunder. One word permeated the air.

“Done.”

The bodies the lovers occupied collapsed.

The oracle’s ring had settled into the charred cleft in Igdrasil’s trunk. Within the gold and silver circle, a sphere of light pulsated. The sphere expanded until it surrounded all of Igdrasil and restored the world tree to robust health.

A stream of the energy shot out from Igdrasil into the bodies on the ground and, like a mystical net, caught Galen’s and Diantha’s souls, extracted them and snaked away, sinking into the earth near Igdrasil’s roots. A hazel tree and a honeysuckle sprouted from the spot. Within minutes, the hazel and honeysuckle were full grown and entwined about each other.

Igdrasil exploded with renewed life, and its leafy branches sheltered Lilith and Cade from the bright light when they awoke in each others’ arms.