Page 159 of Immortal Sun

I hope she’s happy still searching for him, for us.

I hope I remember her face. Jake’s face. And despite how horrible this has been. I hope he remembers me and I hope one day he keeps his promise and when I feel the sun on my face—I remember him.

I get to the final old rock stair and inhale deeply.

Rat is at the bottom of The Tree of Life and Death, Cow is next to it, and in an instant exhale from Cyrus, they turn into their true forms.

Rat looks like a small petulant boy; he has a black loincloth around him and a small crown of flowers covering his head.

Cow looks similar. Her eyes are sad. She’s wearing a gold dress that has flowers running down the sides, they’re white and so pretty, just like her. Her hair is jet-black, her eyes blue, her skin a golden brown.

I can feel Bast the cat behind me. He or She doesn’t transform, just stays next to me like they know I need their strength.

Are these some of the people I’m saving?

Several other people in golden half sun masks and black tunics are gathered around the tree bowing to it, candles in their hands flickering in the breeze.

Cyrus has his back to me.

He’s wearing his sun mask and nothing but a black tunic and his small golden armor around his waist with pure gold sandals that wrap up past his knees.

His hand is on his spear. I wonder if it’s difficult for him, or if he’s just that ready to kill me.

Enki lightly grabs my arm and pushes me forward, when I turn to him, he can’t meet my eyes, not that I can see his very well but it’s almost like he’s ashamed for the first time in his life.

Dag stares straight ahead along with Tyrell. Apep looks down at the ground, the wind whips my hair around me.

It’s hallowed ground. I know that now.

I draw a shaky breath and hold my hands out at my sides. I’ll walk this path alone. The sea starts to splash against the cliff, I can taste the salt in the air.

Destiny does not always mean happy, does it?

I turn to all the gods by my side and finally shake my head. My bare feet dig into the grass as I walk toward the tree, toward my end.

Cyrus, or I suppose Ra, stands there keeping his back to me, almost like a groom waiting to see his bride for the first time.

But here I walk.

Dirty.

Broken.

I don’t even have shoes on.

I smell like sweat, like the earth I was created from—I smell like him, and I walk on the holy ground toward his back.

I imagine flowers getting thrown onto the ground in celebration, that the people around me are cheering rather than bowing their heads. A hum rises up around the crowd, they lift their arms toward Ra, toward a stupid tree. The rest of the immortals walk behind me.

My wedding.

My funeral.

My final steps.

I hold my dirty head high.

A sudden vision, one I’d had earlier appears in my mind’s eye. Cyrus smiling at me while Apep stands to officiate what should be the greatest wedding of all, a joining, a ceremony.

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