Chosen - Kiersten White Page 0,116
we can. It’s time to heal. After all, together we saved the world.
And it hurt. A lot.
EPILOGUE
SPRING IS SLOWLY BUT SURELY nudging winter out of the way. Artemis and I sit on the stairs to the castle. I’m braiding her hair back from her face. I’ve been watching tutorials. Every day the braids get more elaborate. Old Artemis never would have let me, but this one does. Maybe only because she isn’t up to fighting me off yet, but I’ll take it.
It’s been two weeks, and we’re not sure how much better she’s going to get, or how quickly. Everyone is walking softly around her. The general consensus is she already paid the price for what she did, but we all have a lot of healing ahead of us. I spent years studying how to heal bodies; now we’re all going to work on how to heal the hurt we can’t see.
“How can I do it?” she says.
“A fishtail braid? I’ll teach you later on Maricruz.”
“No.” She shakes her head, then rests it against my knee. “This. Everything. Life. How can I do it as me?”
I rest a hand against her forehead. She apologized for what she did, but it was as distant and lost as her eyes when she said it. I’m ready to really talk. I hope she is too. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m not strong enough, or smart enough, or good enough to exist in a world this broken and evil.”
“That’s not true. You saved me.”
“Because I had all the power of a hellgod.”
“No, I don’t mean from Imogen. I meant all those other times. All those years. You saved me time and again. Not only by protecting me, but by making sure I never felt the weight you did. You worked so hard to keep my life as happy as possible, as filled with love as you could make it. That was you, and only you. You did it for Honora, too.” I only wrinkle my nose a little bit at this. There’s a lot I’ll never forgive Honora for, but she fought a god to protect my sister. I can deal with having her here, knowing what she’s willing to do for Artemis.
I asked Honora the other day in a rare moment alone as we prepared dinner—I still don’t know how to feel about Imogen’s memory, but we definitely miss her meals—how she was doing with everything. She shrugged and said it was her turn to support Artemis through some bad times. And that, if it had worked, my sister would have made the most kick-ass goddess ever, so it was worth a shot.
Artemis clenches her fists. “How can it ever be enough? Dad was …” Her voice breaks. “Dad died. I don’t want to die, or to watch you die, or Mom die, or Honora die.”
I put my hand on her head, stroking her hair. “Everyone dies eventually. Nothing we can do will prevent that. I mean, unless you fancy life as a zompire, in which case, grrrr argh,” I growl. It doesn’t elicit a laugh. I sigh. “Dad wasn’t a failure. He was everything he was supposed to be. I wish he would have lived longer, but he lived right. I’m proud of him, and I know he’d be proud of us. The world is messed up, yeah, but it’s also pretty great sometimes. We can’t spend every moment afraid of what’s waiting for us.” What’s waiting for us out in the world, or inside ourselves, as I’ve learned. I wish I could take all Artemis’s fear away, but it’s part of her. She’ll have to learn to live with it in her own way too.
I tuck a loose curl behind her ear. “Besides, we don’t love you because you can protect us. We love you because you’re you. Me, and Mom, and everyone in the castle, and Honora.”
“I hurt her, though. I never should have asked any of that.”
“Pretty sure she gets it.”
“I hurt you, too. And I didn’t do it for you, or for Honora, or even for the good of the world. I did it for me. Because I couldn’t be me anymore.”
“I understand.” I do. I was willing to throw myself into the darkness to avoid actually feeling what I needed to. “But we’re not alone. We have each other. We have a whole castle filled with people who love us. We were always supposed to stick together. Slayer and Watcher.” I squeeze her shoulder as she looks quizzically