Kiersten's Arc

Chapter 25 of 33

Kiersten followed Noble under the trees for a long time. The veil kept the world blurred at her edges. He did not speak. He walked like a man who had walked this route many times and did not want to remember it. When they reached a mossy slope with no path, he stopped and pressed his staff to the ground. The earth pulled back. A stone arch rose out of the slope. Angels were carved into the keystone. A wreath circled a compass at the center of the door. Symbols wound around the frame in old script she could not read. "The Godward Sanctum," Noble said. "It opens for those it trusts. Step to the threshold." Kiersten stepped forward. The door did not move. A cold pressure met her chest and pushed her back a half step. "It refuses you," Noble said. His voice stayed flat. "You carry an unfinished tie. The door reads it. It will not let a tether in." "I closed the door to him already," she said. "You closed your side," Noble said. "His is open. Sit. Finish it." She sat on the moss. She pressed her thumb to her heart tattoo and let Witness rise behind her eyes. The gray space opened, but it was not gray this time. It was Eduardo's porch at dusk, and Eduardo was on it, cap in his hands. He looked at her the way he used to before the ego climbed back into his mouth. His eyes were tired. Not soft as a trick. Tired as a fact. "Kiersten," he said. "I felt you at the door." "I'm leaving," she said. "For real this time. Somewhere you can't follow." He nodded. He did not argue. That was the strange part. He did not argue. "I would only hurt you again," he said. "I know that. I've known it. I kept calling because I didn't want to know it." He turned the cap in his hands. "Go. Don't look for me. Don't pray for me either. It feeds the thing in me." Her throat closed. This was the goodbye she had wanted for years and never believed she would get. Clean. His. Not stolen from her. "Okay," she said. "Okay," he said. She stood in the gray space and lifted her hand to the tether above her heart. It was thin now, a single thread. She pinched it. She let it fall. The porch went dark. Witness settled. Kiersten opened her eyes on the moss. Her chest felt light in a way it had not felt in years. She stood and walked to the threshold. The cold pressure was gone. The door read her once, then swung inward on silent hinges. Warm light spilled out onto the moss. "It knows you now," Noble said. He stepped aside. "Come in. You are held here." Kiersten crossed the threshold. The door closed behind her.