Armageddon (Angelbound) (29 page)

Time to get it over with.

“Octavia, Lincoln, and Connor, I summon thee to dreamscape.”

When I open my eyes again, I stand in a dream-version of the Gray Sea, Purgatory’s largest desert. Octavia and Lincoln stand silently beside me. Undulating dunes of charcoal-colored sand stretch out around us, as far as the eye can see. Black billowing clouds roll overhead. The heavy scent of sulfur hangs in the air.

The Queen Emeritus turns to me, her hands clasped tightly at her waist. A spark of anger gleams in her mismatched eyes. “Where is he?”

Basically, Octavia’s pissed at Connor and I don’t blame her. The fact that he’s not showing up for my dreamscape isn’t helping his case, either.

“Let me try again.” I crack my neck from side to side. “Connor, I summon thee.”

Minutes tick by as we all wait for Connor to appear. He doesn’t have to heed my summons. He doesn’t have to answer, but since he’s in Hell, you’d think he wouldn’t have better things to do.

What a wiener.

Disappointment weighs on my shoulders. Connor was never big on facing unpleasant truths, and maybe now is no exception to this rule. Only, I was hoping that he’d rally. We could all use some closure. I was up half the night with Maxon, holding him through the latest round of nasty flashbacks. He’ll be dealing with the consequences of Connor’s choice for the rest of his life.

How could he sell his grandchild’s soul to anyone?

Perhaps it will help if I try the pushy approach. When I speak next, it is with my most goddess-like and booming voice.

“Connor Banning Osric Aquilus, King Emeritus of the Thrax, I summon thee!”

Still, Connor doesn’t appear.

Octavia’s lower lip quivers; Lincoln’s face turns still as stone. I know they both must be dying inside. I’m not-so-chipper either. Saying goodbye would definitely have helped me, as well. Lincoln and I exchange a sad look.

I’ll give it one last try.

Pleading isn’t my favorite thing to do, but I can’t walk away without having worked every angle.

“Connor, it’s Myla.” I’m careful to keep my voice calm and gentle. “I’m here to dreamscape with you. Lincoln and Octavia are here as well.”

Another long pause.

Another nothing happening.

What an ass this guy is. I know he hears me.

My voice cracks as I ask one last time. “Please, Connor. You owe us this.”

A misty shape forms on the dark sands. It’s the King Emeritus. He wears the same thrax tunic he did on the day he died in the Council of Five.

For a long minute, there’s a lot of awkward staring. Then, Connor speaks in a low voice.

“How is Maxon?”

“He’s home safe,” says Octavia.

“Good.”

No way is he getting off the hook that easily.

“Maxon has nightmares and flashbacks all the time, Connor,” I say. “He’s a very hurt little boy, and he doesn’t even know his Grandfather sold his soul to Armageddon.”

Connor stares at the sands. “Thank you for not telling him.”

“We didn’t do it for you,” I say. “We did it for Maxon. He’s suffered enough.”

Connor meets my gaze, his mismatched eyes lined with tears. “You can’t forgive me. Maxon’s your son. I’m not your blood and I made a terrible mistake with him.” He cautiously seeks out Octavia’s gaze. “How about you, my Queen?”

Octavia’s eyes glisten. “I don’t know if I can forgive you, either. You made this choice without asking me. At the time, we were married and happy. I knew there were problems having a child, but I was at peace with our lives. You and me, that’s all I needed. Aldred tortured us for twenty years because of this deal you struck with him. And my sweet grandson…The things he went through.” She sets her hands over her mouth.

“I know, Octavia. I’m so sorry, to all of you. I had a weak moment and I made a bad decision.” He turns to Lincoln. “How about you, son? Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“For the one-time decision, yes. We all make mistakes, even huge ones. I’m not immune.”

Connor rubs his hands together. “Good. I knew you’d see reason.”

“But for how you dealt with it all those years?” Lincoln shakes his head. “That’s not so easy to forgive. You pretended like everything was fine when it wasn’t. You placed the burden of the crown on my shoulders at an early age. And you treated anyone who disagreed with your point of view as unreasonable. Even now, you’re still doing it.”

“I’m sorry. I was so ashamed of what I did, I wanted to pretend it never happened. Since I was king, everyone went along with my act and I was able to forget—”

“Your own troubles,” finishes Lincoln. “All while doubling the load on everyone else. I appreciate that you’re acknowledging this at last, but…” He shrugs.

“I know.” Connor’s face takes on a hollow, haunted look. “I’m paying for my errors, believe me.”

I stare at Connor’s face, and something about it seems familiar. He reminds me of Adair right now. The horrors of being tortured seem fresh on him, like it did with her. “did I pull you from the torture pits?” I ask.

Connor nods.

“I thought Dad got you out of there. He was supposed to talk to Nefer.”

“He did. I refused. I deserve what’s happening to me. And the physical torture isn’t anything compared to realizing what I’ve done to everyone I care about.” His voice breaks as he speaks. “I’m so sorry.”

Octavia steps forward, her face lined with worry. “We are not sending you back to the torture pits.”

“Don’t you see? It doesn’t matter. I’m there right now.”

“There’s another option, Father.” Lincoln pulls his baculum from his packet. “We can set you free. You can be erased.”

Connor looks to Octavia, his eyes lined with tears. She gives him the subtlest of nods. “If you wish this, you have my blessing.”

Lincoln’s voice turns gentle. “Is that what you want, Father?”

Connor stares at the baculum for a long moment. “Yes. That’s what I want.”

Lincoln ignites his baculum as a dagger, like I did with Adair. He plunges the blade into Connor’s heart. Tears stream down the faces of both father and son. My shoulders shake with silent sobs.

Why does this have to be so hard?

Connor gasps as the dagger hits him, and then, his face calms into a peaceful smile. The last image I have of him is that sated grin. Connor disappears.

I turn to Lincoln, cupping his face in my hands. “You did the right thing.”

He nods, and a sense of peace glimmers in his mismatched eyes as well. “I know.” He gently kisses my cheek. “Let’s go home.”

I open the door to Hildy’s private room in the Arx Hall infirmary. Maxon sits at the foot of her bed, playing poker with two guards. Based on the piles of gold around him, Maxon’s fleecing them both. I can’t help but be a little impressed, but Lincoln’s less pleased.

“Who gave you permission to leave your posts?”

The guards snap to attention. “Apologies, Your Highness.”

Maxon sets his fist on his hip. “While you’re gone, I’m the ranking noble. They have to listen to me. I wanted to play poker.” He picks up a pile of gold coins in his chubby hand. “And I’m winning.”

“They don’t have to play games with you; they have to do their jobs.” Lincoln glares at both of them in turn. “And they know it.”

I can almost see the thought bubble reading
yipe-yipe-yipe
above the guards’ heads as they scurry back into their places against the far wall of the room.

“Alright, baby,” I say. “Time to get some sleep.”

Maxon scooches closer to Hildy. “I don’t need sleep. I’m super-natchal.”

“Come on, son,” adds Lincoln. “Let’s give it a try.”

Maxon folds arms over his chest. “No. Hildy needs me.”

And now begins a glare-a-thon between Lincoln and Maxon. I remember how Lincoln and Connor used to have similar visual show-downs. Scenes like this don’t necessarily facilitate great family memories. In fact, the room starts getting downright uncomfortable when a soft voice breaks the silence.

“Listen to your parents.”

Maxon’s eyes widen with shock. “Hildy?”

Her heavy-lidded eyes flutter open. “I was trying to sleep, but you’re too fidgety.”

Maxon wraps his arms around her neck. “Hildy! You’re awake.”

Hildy shakily lifts her arm to pat his back. “And you’re not listening. Go with your parents and get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay, sure,” says Maxon quickly. He raises his arms toward me. “Snuggle tails, Mommy?”

“You got it.”

I scoop him up onto my hip. Our tails entwine and I feel like he’s hugging me in a relaxed way that I haven’t felt in months.

Lincoln motions to one of the guards. “Get the doctor.” He steps closer to Hildy’s side. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired but good.” Her mismatched eyes narrow. “That was a bitch. I want a raise.”

Lincoln chuckles. “You’re getting one.”

Emily bursts into the room. “You’re awake! You’re awake! The doctor is on his way. We need to run some tests.” She starts fussing with the bedcovers.

Hildy bats her nurse away. “I’m on this.”

“We still need to run some tests.”

“Stick your tests up your ass. I healed myself and I’m fine now, thank you very much.”

I gesture toward the door. “Please give us a moment alone.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Emily scurries out.

Lincoln and I share a smile. We thought Hildy’s recovery was a long shot, but just in case it happened, we had a plan. My heart kicks harder in my chest.

This is going to be gooooooooood.

Hildy lies back in bed and laces her fingers behind her head. She’s looking better by the second. “So, what’s my raise?”

Lincoln bows. “As the King of Antrum, I hereby declare you Princess of Rixa, with all the falderal, money, and properties that entails.”

Hildy’s eyes almost bug out of her head. “Did you say Princess?”

“I know you’re not into titles.” I wink. “Just focus on the money.”

Maxon bobs up and down on my hip. “Yay yay yay!”

“There should be some sucking up to look forward to as well,” adds Lincoln. “You’re now in line for the throne, the whole deal.”

Hildy’s voice comes out low. “Me?”

Lincoln nods. “You were already acting like part of the family, now it’s official. You’re a member of the House of Rixa. Under thrax law, you and Maxon are now cousins.”

“I’ve never had a family.”

“We know that, too,” I say gently. “Now, you do.”

“One of my scribes will explain what it all means,” continues Lincoln. “When you’re ready, of course. Oh, and I’m afraid Octavia will have lots of opinions on your life now.”

“I don’t mind.”

Maxon winds his hand through my hair and pulls. “Mommy?”

“Yes, baby?”

“I want to nap now.”

Hildy yawns. “That makes two of us.”

Lincoln and I step out the infirmary door and walk down the gilded hallway. We’re in no particular rush to reach our chambers. Maxon curls into my shoulder; Lincoln slides his arm around my waist.

“Guess someone was tired,” he says.

Looking down, I see Maxon’s fast asleep, his tail still linked with mine. I gently kiss the top of his head. “He’s been exhausted for weeks. Nothing but sheer determination has kept him up.”

“Wonder where that comes from?” asks Lincoln.

I chuckle. “No idea.”

“Well, now Hildy’s a royal and Maxon’s asleep.” Lincoln gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “One of our best days of work on record, I’d say.”

“You know, it’s funny. Armageddon was out to destroy our family, but he ended up making it bigger, instead.”

“Quite the fitting legacy for the old bastard, actually.”

As we step along, I press more closely onto Lincoln’s side, loving the feel of his firm body against mine. “You’re onto something there with the legacy idea. As a matter of fact, I think it’s perfect.”

The story continues in
Maxon.
Out May 12 2015.

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For more information and updates about the series, go to:
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Armageddon
was a gut-wrenching bitch to write and I don’t care who knows it. In my creative process, I try to follow my little muse wherever it wants to go, and with
Armageddon
it wanted rehash one of the toughest periods of my life, when my son was diagnosed with Sensory Processing Disorder. At that point, my sweet two-year-old boy experienced the world as an overwhelming and often terrifying place. He exhibited many of the classic signs of trauma. My husband and I were at a loss for how to ease his suffering.

We were incredibly fortunate when Jane Koomar came into our life and family. She taught us how the brain remains plastic through old age and that we all have the potential to grow and heal, whatever the pace. She showed us that our child’s sensory challenges were a puzzle that could be solved, and that our family could have a fun time doing it. Sensory integration therapy with Jane and the wonderful team at OTA Watertown (now OTA the Koomar Center) made all the difference in our son’s development as well as our lives as a family. We are one of many that were blessed with her presence.