{Enki | New Cinder}

Pehton held her breath, and so did the others. Although Sagan had arrived to Seamswalk them to the Pantheon for the ultimate battle, no one wanted to move an inch, lest they disturb the most epic confrontation in the Vast Collective’s history.

Xelan was facing off with Primary Rem. The former stood on the cliff, wings open, body tense. Ready. His eyes were drowned in midnight Atramentous. The latter gaped in the canyon below, staring up at his son with a mixture of horror and, strangely, relief. As if Remorse had waited a long time for this moment.

Well, Pehton had a few choice words for the Tritan who’d fathered her children. Gently brushing by Bones, squeezing Lamassau’s arm, stepping around Andrew, and nodding at Sagan, Pehton crossed the peak and took up beside their leader. Xelan knew she was there because his feathers rustled, but aside from that, he made no other indication she’d interrupted their tête-à-tête.

The muffled screams in the Tritan’s fists unnerved her, even though she despised Celindria more with each passing day.

When Pehton straightened her shoulders and held up her chin, Primary Rem’s voids flicked to her in acknowledgment. Arms crossed, she asked, “Remember me?”

Pax glanced up at her with a grin, making her curious about how much the boy was registering the mortal peril surrounding him.

Remorse wet his not-lips before answering, “The Lyriki egg donor. Your contributions guaranteed Enki’s continued prosperity. So greatly, in fact, that I’ll overlook your participation in Gait’s destruction and remove your bounty if you convince my son to join us.”

Again, Xelan’s feathers rustled, especially as black blood welled in the Tritan’s closed fingers. Celindria was clawing her way out.

Unbidden, shame and heartache twisted like a knife in Pehton’s heart. Impressed by the steadiness of her own voice, she reminded Remorse, “What about our son? And our daughter? The ones you tortured? You expect me to help you subject Pax and Xelan to more of your underhanded tyranny after what you confessed to—”

No. Pehton could see she wasn’t getting anywhere by the dullness of Remorse’s voids. Her gliders flared as she said, “Never mind. I’m just here to kill you, Remorse, hoping I spare another young woman your idea of breeding.”

Pax snickered with a pink blush on his cheeks.

Xelan took a step toward the cliff’s edge. “Let her go.” His voice came in three pitches, booming through the canyon.

Remorse didn’t dignify Pehton’s words with a response and addressed the mighty Icarus beside her. “I need this. Celindria has spurred every horrible event in your life. Don’t you see—”

“Pax. Now!” Xelan called with such ferocity that Pehton startled beside him.

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The mini-Xameka? Telan? Opened his wings wide, and the midnight blue in his solid irises swirled.

Remorse snarled and crashed to one knee, lessened by the boy’s efforts.

Xelan flew up and shouted down to Pehton, “Keep up!”

Oh, as best she could. The fastest fighter she’d ever seen, outside of a video of Rayne, zipped at Remorse and disappeared from Pehton’s vision. Even the Tritan lost sight of Xelan in his anguish, ducking his voids in exhaustion.

Pehton ignited the Siren’s Gale and followed, dipping down to Remorse’s face in a flaming sphere of her making. The Tritan was still grimacing as he succumbed to Pax’s drain, and she was happy to further his misery.

Fire concentrated at the core of Pehton’s Siren’s Gale and released on a blazoned flare between the Primary’s eyes.

Bingo.

The Gargantuan Tritan growled in the recoil and stumbled onto all fours. His collapse reverberated throughout the canyon, releasing a massive plume of dust.

Midair, Pehton placed her hands on her hips. “For our children.”

But where was Xelan? What about Celindria? Remorse’s fist was still closed—

Pehton shrieked as her vision blurred—No. Not blurred. All around her, the world shifted in a cascade of existing instances. Hundreds of thousands of this moment occurred all at once. This continuance felt right, but what felt wrong was that Pehton could witness it.

On the cliffs above, Lamassau shouted over the raucous chorus of existing worlds, “How were we exposed to Cascading Light?!”

Sagan asked, “Why does it feel like the time I let Kyle talk me into drinking his uncle’s moonshine?”

“This is fucking awful,” Bones sounded worse than hungover.

Andrew was unaffected. “This is what I see when Kyle and I haven’t checked in for a while.”

But why were they seeing it now?

Pax suggested the obvious. “Close your eyes, Uncle Bones.”

Sure. When experiencing sensory overloaded, deprive the senses—

Whoa.

The Probabilities pulsed.

Pehton’s head rolled on her shoulders. So dizzy. So… heavy…

Falling.

Air whooshed around Pehton in a thousand lifetimes. Deafening. As definitive as the ground, ready to catch her when she landed. Not long now. The fall wasn’t high enough to kill her. She’d be fine. No more broken on the outside than on the inside.

What had Pehton’s hundreds of thousands of existences amounted to?

Her children. She couldn’t even remember their names. What they looked like. Everything surrounding her children’s existence was so negative, but… Pehton would never forget the love she felt when she held their hands. Embraced them.

Korac was a ‘good’ in her contributions column. Pehton had helped him many times throughout his life.

Caedes’ rare smirk came to mind. French toast. A kiss that never was.

Razor accumulated the worst of Pehton’s deeds. Yes. When Pehton reached Eternity, judgment for her complicity in so much of his evil would taint the otherwise positive account of her life.

But all this would come once Pehton landed and healed all the broken bones in her battered body. Assuming Remorse didn’t recover and take advantage of her prone state—

Powerful arms caught her under the knees and shoulders.

Pehton was still too dizzy to open her eyes and see, but her savior was warm like an Icarus. “Xel—Xelan?”

“I got you.”

For the love of Elden. The cheesy catch phrase cleared the haze enough for Pehton to hear the others shouting.

Bones sounded better off than her. “You all right?”

Sagan offered, “I can get us out of here anytime!”

Lamassau’s voice was honed with urgency. “Remorse is recovering! Everybody get in the ring.”

Pehton opened her eyes, muttering, “Xelan, why am I so dizzy? My nacre…”

“We’re closer to Celindria than the others.”

That ambiguity made her frown. “What?”

Pehton felt them hovering backward, turning her stomach. Near them came a barrage of rocks shifting and the ground trembling.

Remorse was standing up.

Weakly, she swallowed back vomit and gripped Xelan’s shirt. Insistently, she asked, “What’s happening?”

Emotion had thickened his voice, and Pehton swore Xelan was crying.

“Celindria’s dying.”