Chapter Nineteen: Life

Ailill's head ached; he felt as he had that time he'd accidentally gotten into a brawl in a dubious dockside tavern in Piedre. What had happened to him? He dragged his eyes open, saw the glass roof of the Sanctuary, and it all came to back to him. Ivan was dead. The Faerie Queen was evil. He had to warn—

"Cat."

Ailill froze, then his vision blurred. He had to be dead. He hadn't woken up after all. "Vanya?" he asked, voice hoarse. He tried to speak again, but forgot how to entirely when Ivan knelt and pulled Ailill into his arms. He smelled like sweat, smoke, blood, and the sea—and he was soaking wet. Ailill just held on tightly. "Vanya."

Ivan said nothing, just drew back enough to kiss him—hard, bruising, desperate. All around them was shouting, the Beasts railing at the Triad, everyone raging at Etain. Ailill did not care. The only thing he cared about was the man in his arms.

Finally pulling back to draw breath, Ailill stared at Ivan, still not certain he was awake. "I thought you were dead. She said you and Noire had died, told me later when she poisoned me that she'd killed you. Set you up to be slaughtered …"

"One of the oldest tricks in the history of crime and I fell for it," Ivan said. "I'm still angry at myself for that." He kissed Ailill again, softer, lingering. "Noire and I took care of the beasts, though Noire paid a small price for it all. We had to swim the moat to get back, but we made it. I would have done whatever it took to make certain she did not kill you."

"I knew you'd come," Ailill said, and he wanted to say more, but the words stuck in his throat.

Ivan seemed to hear them anyway. "I am just glad to see you awake, beloved. You lay so still and there was nothing I could do …"

Ailill kissed him and held fast, burying his fingers in Ivan's hair. "All I could think about was you being dead. I didn't care about anything else, anymore."

"I'm alive, you're alive—the Tragedy is quite over, I think, though I think there is a tragedy yet to come. But—"

His words were drowned out by a booming crack of thunder. Lightning flashed, and the scent of ashes and roses filled the room. When the lightning faded, six men stood with the Triad by the Sacred Oak. Ailill stared at them a moment before realization sank in—and familiarity. It was impossible not to recognize Raz, who looked the same and yet entirely different as Zhar Ptitsa.

The trio of Kundouins could only be the Dragons of the Three Storms, and Ailill was surprised he knew them all:  Captain Kindan, the merchant Raiden he had met only briefly years ago, and Prince Nankyokukai, whom he had never met but had seen before from afar. How had they become gods? Had they been the whole time, reincarnations like Gael and Freddie?

He also recognized Prince Culebra, but not the man—no, that was a woman—beside him. A companion of some sort to the Basilisk? Ailill wanted to cry to see all the gods except Licht gathered together. If only the cost of restoring the gods of Verde had not been so high. It was hard to be joyous when the Faerie Queen herself had been responsible for the destruction.

Raiden stepped forward, closer to the Triad; he was clearly the leader of the entire gathering. Pantheon, Ailill recalled. Once upon time they had been the Pantheon. "I am relieved to see you alive and well and returned to us, Guardians." His eyes flashed with lightning. "You, Faerie Queen, I could have done without. Your betrayal runs deep—too deep for there to be forgiveness."

Etain's eyes burned violet with hate. "My betrayal? I am not the only one here who is guilty of betrayal. I'm not the only one here who is directly responsible for the deaths of my siblings."

"Enough!" Nankyokukai cracked out, thunder rolling with his anger. "There is a difference between lives sacrificed for the good of all, as were our long-dead brothers, and cold murder committed in the names of jealously and hate."

"My brothers died for me," Raiden said quietly, dark eyes filled with pain. "You murdered yours and made the poison that killed the Basilisk."

Etain shrugged. "I am not responsible for how my creations are used."

"So you admit you made Licht the poison that he used to kill us?" Culebra asked.

Sneering, Etain replied. "Yes, I did. To slay the cowardly god of death who did nothing except whine and moan about how nobody loved him. Who possessed the most fearsome power of the nine and only languished in his stone temple bemoaning it. So good at complaining, snake, but not so good at doing anything about it."

Gael pressed his horn more firmly into her throat, drawing a thin trickle of blood. "Do you even begin to comprehend your own words? Your crimes? All who have died by your hand or by your negligence or by your cruelty? You are a god of life and yet you care nothing for life. This whole time, we thought it was Licht alone who tangled the world in his thread of fate, only to find that you are just as guilty. You gave him poison. You cast the Curse of Fate. All because you would not accept that things changed, a jealous rage. What happened to the sister I once loved, whom I once called lover?"

"You lost her when you threw her aside to take up with a black cat," Etain said bitterly. "When you chose a little bat over me. You want to blame somebody for the state of our world? Blame yourselves, because the first betrayal was yours, Guardians."

"We are not without blame," Freddie said. "But do not place all of it upon us. We betrayed you and let our children down. But we did not go to your lengths. The matter should have remained with the three of us. We might have even forgiven the murders of us and the White Beasts, in time and with proper penance on your part. But to hand the entire world to Licht, to Teufel, by way of the Curse of Fate … and to feel absolutely no remorse for your actions …"

"How did he break it?" Etain demanded bitterly. "I did not finish the curse, but it still fought chaos for nine hundred years. I never succeeded, but I would have with the jewels. I don't understand how it turned in his favor." She stared hatefully at Noire.

"One sliver of chaos is all that is needed," Raiden said quietly, his midnight eyes somber. "You did not finish the curse, and that sliver of a chance eventually let my brothers pour their powers and their souls into me. My release brought even more chaos back to the world, and in due course, brought the birth of the child of chaos. Every life he touches, he frees from fate and changes forever. At some point, the child of chaos affected at least one person in this room. That was all that was needed to begin fracturing the Curse of Fate once and for all."

Zhar Ptitsa stirred where he stood, ember eyes glowing. "Many years ago, the child of chaos interacted with the not-quite born child of tragedy, and everything changed. Not so many years ago, another in this room was changed forever by the child of chaos. The Curse of Fate, never properly finished, never stood a chance from that moment on."

"Child of tragedy?" Ailill asked, and he followed everyone's gaze. "Noire? What have I missed?"

"A lot," Ivan murmured. "I'm surprised you don't know."

"My memories only go as far as the moment I died," Ailill said. "I don't know what happened after. I thought everyone died."

But even as he said it, images filled his mind, put there by Gael's gentle touch. Ailill's eyes stung as he saw Noire take his own life on the slim hope he could somehow fix things in his next life. He looked sadly at Etain who was too busy glaring at Noire and the gods in turn to notice the way her Beasts looked at her. Willfully oblivious to the end, and the realization made Ailill that much more tired.

"Enough," Nankyokukai said, stepping forward and throwing out his arms, halting all conversation in the room. "This squabbling is accomplishing nothing, and it should not be done in front of those who have already seen and endured enough. Our children should not have to bear witness—"

"No," Verenne cut in, striding closer and lifting her chin. "It was our loved ones, our homes, our lives that have been lost. We are the ones who suffered most by her machinations. She betrayed us, who looked to her, loved her, believed in her all these centuries. We deserve to bear witness to justice."

"Yes," Freddie and Gael agreed. "It is the least they are owed, if that is what they desire."

"Then let us end it," Kindan said harshly.

"We will end it," Culebra said and clasped hands with the woman beside him. They were definitely siblings, even outside of being gods—or maybe it was being gods that made them look like siblings. Ailill couldn't tell, but looking at the pair made him feel afraid and calm all at once.

He wondered if that was how it felt to die.

Gael and Freddie shifted back to their human forms in a shimmer of light, each holding fast to one of Etain's arms.

The woman holding hands with Culebra reached out with her free hand to touch Etain's cheek and stroke it gently. "Nothing will save you from death, sister, but you could die at peace by being sorry for your actions. Did we come so far, do so much, only for you to end this way?"

"You are no sister of mine," Etain spat. "Kill me, then. Death gains a god and life loses one. I want no part of this world that is nothing like what we made."

"Then goodbye," Culebra said, then turned slightly to address everyone gathered in the Sanctuary. "Shield your eyes, do not look up until you are told it is safe."

Ailill obeyed, a shudder running through him at the realization that the legendary eyes of the Basilisk were going to be used. He buried his face in Ivan's shoulder, slid his arms around Ivan's waist, and simply focused on the fact that Ivan was alive. All he needed was that one bright, happy fact; the rest would be bearable because of it.

Death, when it came to the Faerie Queen, was shockingly quiet. Soft murmurs of goodbye from the other gods and only a stony silence from Etain, a gasp, and a cry of pain that ended almost as soon as it began.

Ailill held Ivan tighter. Part of him was angry, vengefully pleased to know that Etain was getting what she deserved. Most of him, however, mourned. It was Etain who had sent him out to retrieve the jewels, professing they would help the ceremony.  Everything he had done, he had done for her, for Verde. He'd made himself a stranger in his own home just to save it—and all of it just to further her malicious goals.

They had all loved her, believed in her. And she had not even wanted their forgiveness before she died. His tears were absorbed by Ivan's damp shirt, and the gentle touch of Ivan's rough hand absorbed some of his pain.

Something tore through him—tore out of him—when the Faerie Queen died. Ailill muffled his scream against Ivan's shoulder, nails digging into his skin through the fabric of his clothes. Ivan just continued to hold fast.

"It's all right," Gael's voice said gently in his mind, and the warmth that filled Ailill then eased soul-deep aches he had not known were there until the Faerie Queen's poison had been stripped away. It also reminded him that, while she had hated them, the Unicorn and the Pegasus did not. There were still two gods of Verde who cared about their creations, their children. "All is well now—and safe."

Ivan loosened his hold slightly and kissed Ailill's brow, then his mouth. "You look as pale as the Basilisk, cat."

Ailill tried to smile. "I feel wrung out. Was it this hard for you, Vanya, when Zhar Ptitsa returned?"

"Yes," Ivan replied, looking at the cluster of gods, eyes lingering on Zhar Ptitsa. "He is the same and yet not. The little thief I knew and hired for years threw himself into a fire, and while that thief is in Zhar Ptitsa … he was only one piece of a thousand. Some days, I can handle it. Others, it is hard to take. Gods and mortals should not mingle, at least not much; in the end, hearts are left broken."

"I agree," Ailill said and turned away again, unable to bear the sight of Etain's lifeless body arranged at the base of the Sacred Oak.

After nine hundred years, the ceremony had succeeded. It should have been a day of joy. Instead, the joy and the beauty of Verde lay dead, the final victim of her own poisons.

"Shh," Ivan soothed. "Soon this will all be over, beloved, and we can go home."

"You weren't nearly this … warm and easy when we met," Ailill said, rather liking it despite himself. "I like the sound of going home." Though, really, as long as had Ivan, he realized he was home.

Ivan chuckled. "I have nearly lost you twice now, cat. It was hard the first time, unbearable the second. I don't know what you did to this old merc, but you are quite stuck with him."

"Good," Ailill said.

Smiling, Ivan kissed him. He started to speak, but before he could, the gods' mournful silence was broken by Gael. "So she is gone and life is now ruled only by two."

"Do you think you will be all right that way?" Raiden said.

"I think so," Freddie said. "We are not as wild a power as chaos, and perhaps two for death and two for life is the balance we should have chosen all along."

 Gael gestured. "If it proves not to be true, we will ask for help, and together find a new solution. But the power is settling, and I think we will be fine. The only difficultly now is the restoration of Verde, and that is our burden to bear."

"What will be your first step?" Raiden asked.

"Withdrawing," Freddie said. "The heart of this entire tragedy is that we were all too close—too close to each other, too close to our children. If we had drawn the lines that we were advised to draw long ago, much of this might have been prevented."

Culebra shook his head. "We all made mistakes. At least now we can fix them."

Freddie made a face and dropped the arms she'd folded across her chest, planting them on her hips instead. "Speaking of mistakes—we do not have Etain's true gift for creation, but we are still gods of creation."

"Yes," Gael said quietly and held out his arms. On the ground, the crown jewels that still draped Etain's body lifted from it and floated in the air between Gael and Freddie. "Power of nine and the soul of the Faerie Queen. Let this be in atonement for her great crimes."

Gold light shimmered and flared, enveloping the jewels, growing brighter still and spreading out to fill the Sanctuary—and then it abruptly shrank back, coalescing into a single small bead of brilliant light between Freddie and Gael.

The light went out and a small object fell into Freddie's open palm. She held it up, and sunlight bathed what proved to be a ring. Ailill stared at it in wonder. The crown jewels he'd collected had been breathtaking and rich with divine power, but the ring put them all to same. It looked like someone had blended together steel and a rainbow then shaped it into a ring.

Freddie smiled at whatever she saw in the ring before she flipped it to Zhar Ptitsa. "A ring of chaos, a gift to the child of chaos. Should he have need of any god as he journeys through Schatten, he need only call upon us.  It will add to his strength and power and help him fight the shadows that will hunt him."

"Handsome piece," Zhar Ptitsa replied and slid the ring onto his own finger for safekeeping. "I'll see that the recipient receives it when it's time."

"That should be soon," Kindan said. "Teufel's shadows across the world lengthen, which means he was forced to weaken his barriers. His power is fraying, unable to stand up to the restoration of the pantheon."

Zhar Ptitsa nodded, smiled. "The child of chaos will be ready."

"I wish you would tell us what you know," Raiden said irritably. "We have a right to know our own greatest avatar."

"You know I withhold his identity for his protection. Already Teufel is putting out feelers, his black monsters prowl all over the Jagged Mountains now. He'll stop at nothing to find and kill the child of chaos before his country is invaded."

Raiden heaved a sigh, but let the matter drop. Zhar Ptitsa walked over to Gael and Freddie and kissed each of them on the cheek. "We are happy to have you both back. I hope that your new life is better than the last; I already see threads that seem to indicate it will be so."

"Thank you," Gael said quietly, eyes flicking briefly to Noire, who stared back with the same ache of longing in his eyes.

"I think it is time for us to go," Culebra said. "We will leave you to take care of Verde, but call if you should need any of us."

Freddie nodded. "We will."

"Take care," Raiden said, and with a roll of thunder and a burst of lightening, the dragons vanished.

The Basilisks departed next after kissing Gael and Freddie farewell. Only Zhar Ptitsa remained, and he crossed the room to stand before Ailill and Ivan. "Bright day, cat."

"Greetings, Holy Firebird," Ailill replied, not quite certain what to say. Ivan was right:  Zhar Ptitsa was and was not Raz, which made speaking to him disconcerting and confusing.

Smile fading slightly, Zhar Ptitsa said, "No formality required. I am who I was, all I do is burn brighter. I counted you a friend and that has not changed. Did you find what you wanted then, Vanya? Ready to come home?"

"Yes, Raz," Ivan said, arm sliding around Ailill's waist and holding firm. "Take us home."

"Home? To Pozhar? But I can't—" Ailill stopped at the look on Ivan's face. "I can't just abandon them with all the devastation. I might not want to be a White Beast, but I can't keep ignoring my responsibilities—"

"You're not ignoring them," Ivan snapped. "You had a duty, and you did it. You nearly died doing it. What did everyone else do while you traversed a dangerous world, crossed hostile seas, and nearly died in a dreary inn in Pozhar? They stayed here, safe within their walls, squabbling like children. Chaos was there the whole time; they could have fought, could have struggled. This entire country ruined itself as much as the Faerie Queen ruined it. Nothing but lies, cheating, hiding, and keeping secrets—except for you. When you were given a duty, you carried it out, even though the cost to you was great. Zholty almost killed you, and you should not have been there at all."

Ailill tried to speak, painfully aware of the silence all around them, but found he couldn't do anything, but stare into Ivan's eyes.

"You gave up your home to locate the jewels, and you brought them home. If not for you, there would be no ring of chaos. What did any of these other Beasts do? As they began to fall one by one, did anyone else step up to try and help you solve the mystery? Did they offer any assistance at all? No, they slept around and hid and kept to their own affairs. They did nothing, not until it was too late for them to do anything except make a futile attempt to regain control. You've done enough. It's their turn. Let them fix the country."

"Vanya …"

Ivan smiled at him, that same wolfish mercenary smile that had first caught Ailill. It was a smile that reminded him of an old Pozharan saying:  The only way to live is to burn. "I have been a duke for the past two years, but I was a mercenary for twenty years, and before that I was a tanner with dubious morals. I say that you are coming home with me and anyone else who has issue with my behavior can send their complaints to the Tsar."

"We have no complaints," Gael said, face somber as he joined them. "Of course we wish you to stay and have always considered you one of us, but if you no longer wish to be …"

"I am a faerie child," Ailill said. "That will never change."

Gael nodded and embraced him. Then he placed his hands against Ailill's chest. Ailill felt a rush of power—and then felt it leave. Gael smiled faintly. "The least I can do is free you of the burden you've carried long enough and never wore comfortably, anyway. You will always be a faerie child, unless there comes a day you no longer desire that. But you are no longer a White Beast. Go where you like. If we need you, we will ask. But your fire child is right—you've done much for Verde, however little it seems to you." He kissed Ailill's cheeks then stepped back.

"Thank you," Ailill said quietly, and took Ivan's hand.

"Your hair is no longer white, cat," Ivan said. "It's brown, exactly as you said it was when you were a boy."

Ailill shook his head, too bemused to form words. "Take me home, Vanya."

Raz stepped forward then and took hold of Ivan and Ailill's arms. In a rush of heat and the smell of smoke, they vanished.

He and Ivan reappeared in an enormous hall of an old-looking castle. Of Zhar Ptitsa, there was no sign.

But the five men in front of the fireplace, rough housing as they ate dinner, all stopped and stared. Then they burst into grins and surged to their feet, clambering and clattering as they rushed over. "Hey, boss," Luka greeted. "Hey, cat. You both look like you had fun without us. That's not very nice, boss."

"Douse it," Ivan said cheerfully. "Fetch us clean clothes and bring more vodka."

"Yes, boss!" the men chorused, and they called out further welcomes to Ailill as they darted off to carry out their orders.