could find their source of power, then maybe the curse of immor-
tality would be broken and the Ladon Vitae destroyed. Every
eternal day, every endless winter and infinite summer, she hoped
that Arthur was safe. And with vicious focus she prayed that he
would find what he hunted.
And then one day, the Earth started turning again. She felt it
in the sudden painful thump of her heart, the way the dust motes
seemed to swirl instead of hang lifeless on the air, the way the
ocean no longer felt like an ageless companion, but rather a sleep-
ing giant she could never comprehend.
She knew, then, that Arthur had done it. He’d destroyed the
Ladon Vitae’s power and returned all of them to mortality. And
with the mortal breath bursting in her lungs, she laughed and raced
to the top of her house to watch for Arthur walking up the hill.
He didn’t come.
All her long, aching years of waiting, all Arthur’s suffering and
hunting, and still they were alone. Sometimes she wondered
whether she ought to leave, give up on the lifetimes spent hoping.
But whenever a storm raged over the sea, she watched it. She
remembered his eyes, and she knew she had made the right choice.
Find me, Arthur, she would whisper.
I’ll wait forever.
Come home.
Maine, Yesterday
•
the end
•