ARCUS STAYED CLOSE, AND WE RACED through the tunnels to the Gate.
“This will work,” I said, more to myself than him.
We’d made the plan while fleeing a furious god, so it wasn’t impossible that there were some flaws in the premise—the assumption that I could use Eurus’s darkness to make an illusion of my own.
The idea had started to take shape when I’d sat on the throne. Eurus must have had to give the spirits some of his own power to twist them into his Minax. When I was releasing the spirits, I took their darkness, but I’d also absorbed residual energy from each—the power of a god. A minuscule amount from each spirit, but it added up. And now I could use it.
Standing in the center of the cavernous space, I used darkness much the way I would have used fire, my mind shaping its form and flow. I made a scene in my head, paying attention to detail, creating the illusion of walls to obscure the room, particularly the Gate.
Cover the Gate with darkness, I told myself. Hide it so not even the tiniest glimmer shows through.
“Is the light all covered?” I asked Arcus, my head splitting with the effort of focusing my thoughts.
“I can’t see any,” he assured me. “Remember to leave your darkness behind, and you’ll be able to get through the Gate.”
“Go!” I whispered urgently, my heart breaking. “I love you.”
“This isn’t good-bye,” Arcus reassured me in a low, soothing voice. “We will be together again. I love you, too, Ruby. Always. Be safe.”
He paused. I felt his longing to protect me, his reluctance to leave. He brushed my hands with his, the soft lightning passing between us for a second, and then he disappeared.
Eurus appeared at the entrance to the cavern in that moment. “You are a plague,” he raged, bounding toward me. “I will end you now, and your spirit will pay!”
Wind roared from his direction, battering against me, pushing me.
I let it back me toward the threshold until I felt the Gate’s hum, then closed my eyes.
Darkness, I release you. I release all of you. Every stain. Every smudge. Every shadow.
The moment I sensed the last tendrils of darkness leave my body, I leaped. I burst through the Gate and tumbled to the ground outside, the cold air washing over me in an invigorating rush.
The sounds of battle still rent the air, carrying from the lava field. Night had fallen, and the area around the Gate was dark.
Eurus followed a second later, his footsteps rumbling the ground.
I swallowed, gathering my courage. Here was the worst part.
Neb’s law said that her children couldn’t interfere in the mortal world while in god form or by using their divine powers. Merely being here in his true form might not be enough to violate the law.
So I had to let him “interfere,” meaning I had to let him hurt me. And one blow could kill me.
I took a shaky breath as he drew back a massive foot. At the last second, I must have dodged. Instead of annihilating me, his kick connected with my left arm, cracking bone. I spun in the air, landing hard, rolling, my face and body punished by the hard ground, my arm on fire with pain. I came to rest on my back, blinking hard. My vision doubled, making the stars swim overhead, sinuous and beckoning, as if inviting me into their confidence. Finally, they came to a rest, flickering like candles. Reassuring beacons in the dark, whispering of infinity.
But my suffering would not be eternal. I had escaped the throne, escaped what Eurus had claimed was my destiny. No matter what happened now, I had done that.
“I understand the word eternity perfectly,” I said, hoping he could hear my breathless, pain-filled voice. “That’s how long you’ll live in exile.”
Eurus spun around, saw the Gate—that he was on the wrong side of it—and howled his rage in a blast that shook the hills and made the volcanoes tremble and boil. The shudders from the ground ran through my body in an aching wave, but I perceived the pain distantly as I stared up at the sky, my body boneless with a deep sense of relief.
“Neb,” I said to the stars. “Your son has been a naughty boy.”