Page 219 of Children of Fallen Gods

I have crossed seas and mountains.

I am so very far from home.

But let me return to you.

My fingers curled, handfuls of dirt ground against my palm. I could almost feel them — feelsomething, even if it was not the gods. Perhaps there was something deeper still that bound us all, not in the aspirational hope of the sky, but the grounding constance of the earth.

Beneath us, this unfamiliar land swallowed up our grief.

I had nothing to give them but my hope.

But gods, let it be enough. Let it be enough.

I have nothing to give you but my life,Riasha sang.

I have nothing to give you but scars and heartbreak.

But let me return to you.

I have nothing to give you but my love and piety.

But let me return to you.

Let it be enough.

Chapter Seventy-Four

Max

Tisaanah’s eyes were red-rimmed by the time we left the apartments. Night had fallen. We would need to return to the Towers at some point — we now had nowhere else to go. But neither of us were in a rush to get there, so we walked back through the city, taking in the silence of the winter night.

The Drifting Songs lasted for nearly an hour, though something about them made time seem to warp and shift. The grief hung thickly in the air. I had watched Tisaanah, serene even with tears streaking her cheeks, and I couldn’t put a name to the sad pride that swelled in me at the sight of her.

The last time we had been here, when I had watched her Wield her magic and their attention with masterful power, I thought I’d never seen anything more beautiful. But seeing her like this, honest and raw, was its own kind of beauty. She let me see these parts of her. I never thought she would let them see it, too. Maybe she never would again.

“I’m proud of you,” I said. We had walked a long way in silence. Tisaanah gave me a startled look.

“Why?”

“I know it was hard for you to show them that.”

She let out a rough scoff. “Being sad is nothing to be proud of. Stopping it from happening would have been.”

“You couldn’t have saved them. You do know that, right?”

She didn’t answer.

Instead she slipped her arm through mine, the weight of her head pressing against my shoulder as we walked the city streets in yawning silence.

After a few minutes, Tisaanah murmured, “I like this. It makes it easy to pretend.”

“Pretend?”

“Pretend we are a normal couple. That is probably what we look like, right now.” Her arm tightened around mine, as if for emphasis, and I chuckled.

“Maybe so.” Yes, we probably did look utterly average. I did have to admit there was something pleasant about the sheer mundanity of it. Like it was something I could take for granted.

“It’s nice,” I said, quietly.

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