Ve'Rah Daa (The Ephemeral: Book 3)

Chapter 36

The week sped past me, the days too short, the tasks too important, and before I knew it, I'd crashed head-first into our deadline.

Sunrest was upon us—the day our ancestors fled the radiation by burrowing underground, the inception of nuclear winter. Regulas had chosen the anniversary to invade our home, but we'd greet him in his own backyard instead. And I was only a little disappointed that I wouldn't get to see the gobsmacked look on his face.

At dawn, we'd put all our training, preparation, and compromises to the test. But tonight...tonight was for reflection. Reflecting on how far we'd come, and what we'd sacrificed to be here. And as midnight approached, we celebrated our lives, our loves, and our legacies.

Soldiers sat around open flames, cracking jokes or asking questions each time a nervous silence settled over the camp—stalling, because this could very well be the last night of their lives.

Tom's tight-knit group gathered around Siren's tent, taking turns holding the little human with the soft skull and the clenched fists. Personally, I had no interest in holding Nameless, not because of my lethal power, but because of my lethal clumsiness. But thankfully, there were plenty of folks eager to meet the only successful project Siren and Victor had ever collaborated on.

Ellen cradled the baby now, telling her sons about their own births and Mason's long, insufferable labor.

"He wanted to be born on his terms, and his terms only," she said with a fond smile, and I rolled my eyes. Color me surprised. "I'd never seen Sam so impatient. He cried his eyes out when Mason finally deigned to meet us."

The image of Mr. Price crying over anything was difficult to conjure, and I wished he could have been here to see all that his son had accomplished.

Ellen noticed my eyes flicking to the snowcapped mountains behind us, begging the Fates for a miracle, and she smiled.

"He's got Tori with him," she assured me. "He'll be fine."

Curiosity nestled in my brow. Did...she know? "You're right. Those two won't let anything happen to each other."

Her answering grin said everything, and it warmed my heart to know Mason had her approval. "My son's in good hands." She bowed her head at me, her expression grateful. "And he has been for quite some time."

The night carried on like that for a while. Small exchanges that carried undertones of finality and gratitude. Peace offerings and love confessions. It seemed like everyone had something to say before tomorrow came, even if they were buried under masculine hugs or awkward compliments.

"I couldn't believe my eyes," Sol exclaimed from across the campfire. "She ran straight into the adit! No hesitation!"

Rheans and fellow federates gaped at me—or, in Will's case, sighed miserably into the cold. He'd heard this story a million times by now, and he still found my recklessness unamusing. Of course, he'd also witnessed the not-so-funny circumstances under the mountain. He'd felt how tightly I'd grasped at his leathers. How utterly dependent I'd been on his rescue.

"Gritz, don't remind me. My heart dropped to my ba—" Rover noticed Molly sitting among us, and corrected course. "...To my boots when she did that. All I could think about was Tom finding out his baby sister ran into the tunnel I was about to blow to pieces. On my watch."

The comment tightened the corners of everyone's mouths—a row of sad smiles and sad eyes. And it made my chest ache, knowing Tom's second family mourned him like I did. Knowing they still loved and respected him, despite his prolonged absence.

My brother may have lost his memories to a demon, but these men would never forget the Interior federate who held the Rim.

"Little Ikelos was brave that day," Gris commended, and my cheeks warmed at all the positive attention. "She faced those rats alone so I could get Marcus out alive."