“They call me,” he said again, his face ashen with strain. “I must answer.”

“Don’t.” I touched his hand.

His eyes shot to my offending fingers and for a moment I wanted to draw away, then he looked into my face, and the confusion, the anger and fear and helplessness written in his eyes froze me to my spot.

The cultists’ chant rose to a boom. “Cthulhu dr’arn’tgnthet gn hk tur.”

Pain flickered across Riley’s face. “They pull at me,” he pleaded. “The call is strong. I must answer.”

Tears ran rivulets down my face. “No. You can’t. You won’t. I—I won’t allow it.”

“Little one.” He lurched forward, nearly falling into my arms as another arcane cry echoed around the room. His strong arms enveloped me, his fingers tangled through my hair, his seawater scent became my world. He let out a gurgling sound that might have been a laugh—or a sob. “You would not allow me? You would command me to stay? Just as soon command the sun to rise in the west and the moon to fall to earth—you are nothing to we who walk the stars.”

“I’m not commanding you,” I cried, “I could never! I’m asking you. Begging you. Riley… I…”

And what was it for me then, to give the final thing I’d been holding back for as long as I had known it in my own heart? I was nothing without him. What was my own pain, my own pride in the face of losing him?

“I love you,” I breathed.

His arms tightened and I struggled for air as Epistola let out another summoning cry, her voice wavering and desperate. “Dead Cthulhu!” she wailed. “Mad Priest, great dreamer, the time is nigh—answer your slaves!”

Dark spots appeared at the corners of my vision. With every exhale, Riley’s arms tightened around me until my ribs ached. I cleaved to him in turn, my hands clenching the fabric of his shirt. I held on, even as my head spun and breathing became nearly impossible. I held one thought that kept me clinging to consciousness, one phrase that I clung to like a life preserver in a storm. “I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

And then he answered, words that sounded like heaven in my ears.

“I know.”

He squeezed me tighter. I felt my muscles go slack, my chest convulse and still. Before the darkness swallowed my vision entirely, I heard him speak once more. His voice boomed through me, reverberated through the shop, stretched across time and space and echoed through eternity to find Epistola.

“I am not to be summoned and made a slave to meaningless human whim!”

On the screen, the chanters fell silent. Epistola froze, her eyes wide as she listened for the voice of her god.

“Leave me be, or be devoured and forgotten!”