Torchlighters

by Megan R Miller

  Joey’s shoulders relaxed.

  “You love Sam?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Corvin said, without batting an eyelid.

  “And you were the one that let Lirin out when she got caught, weren’t you?” Joey asked.

  Corvin dropped his gaze for a moment before he nodded. Joey waited for him to lift his eyes again.

  “This won’t be easy,” he said. “It’s not easy for me, either. People died. That happens. You take whatever time you need to forgive us, and if that happens to be never then so be it. But if you ever come around and feel like you want family again, you’ve got one.”

  Corvin gave another nod, and said nothing. Over his shoulder, Joey locked eyes with Sam. His expression said everything. If Corvin betrayed them, there would be a burning.

  That was alright, because Sam was sure he never would.

  A couple of days later they moved into Uncle Danny’s old apartment.

  “You promised no more bloodshed,” Corvin said, as he skimmed the wall for a place to hang one of the portraits he’d done of Sam. Samael had given up trying to convince him not to hang it, as tacky as he thought having a painting of himself in their living room was. Corvin was an excellent artist. The likeness was uncanny.

  “No more crimes,” Sam corrected. “And there won’t be.”

  Corvin finished hanging the painting, made sure it was straightened to his liking then walked over to Sam to loop an arm through his. Corvin’s dark eyes held a challenge.

  “You sound like you have something in mind,” he said.

  Sam smiled.

  It was nearing dusk. The little square of beach was lit up part by wisplight and part by torches along the perimeter of the sand. The pyre was shaped differently from their usual pyramid.

  The wood had been stacked across, the better to lay a body on, and Danny had been cleaned and wrapped in linen with his arms crossed over his chest. This was what he’d wanted.

  Even through the gag, the sniper bound to the foot of the woodpile was shrieking.

  Torchlighters stood around with their eyes downcast and hands folded in front of them. Ophelia held Joey’s hand. His chest was tight and he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to bring himself to speak like he knew he needed to right now.

  This was his brother. Joey couldn’t remember a time when he had ever not had Danny. They’d been born so close together, and every scrap of trouble he’d ever been in, he could always look over his shoulder and see him there.

  He couldn’t shake the thought that Danny was never going to be there again.

  His chest wracked as he held back a sob.

  Ely came up at his left hand and touched his forearm. There were tears in her eyes, too, that hadn’t been blinked free yet. He met her gaze, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

  “Dad,” she said, “you said I could light the next one.”

  He pulled her into a tight hug. Ophelia’s hand went to his shoulder. He understood in that moment th at Ely was offering him an out, a way to take care of this that wouldn’t hurt his reputation. He loved her deeply for that.

  “It’s alright,” he said. “I need to do this.”

  He kissed her on the forehead.

  Ely nodded and stepped back to join her brothers. Sam and Corvin had moved into Danny’s old place; he wouldn’t have wanted to see it go to waste. Callum and Tess were in the process of getting their things situated and her manor cleaned up. None of his children had brought their partners to this. This one was for family only.

  Joey stepped up to the unlit pyre and cleared his throat before raising his voice.

  “We have walked with this man for years,” Joey said. “Danny Trezza dedicated his entire life to protecting the dock district and its people. He lived his life in fire and he always said he wanted to go out that way.”

  Hellfire engulfed his hand, and he looked to the wrapped body of his fallen brother. His chest seized again, but he pushed it down this time. He could break down after. He would cry, because Danny wouldn’t have wanted him to hold it back.

  “Let this flame end your vigil, big guy,” Joey said. His voice was broken and soft now as he put a hand on the dry woodpile. It caught, and the flames began to spread. After a few minutes, the sniper’s muffled voice came in higher shrieks.

  “Are you absolutely sure,” Barghest started. Augury shook her head and went on point to kiss him.

  “Not a chance, Tin Can,” she said. Her three-fingered hand patted his cheek as she took a step back and rolled her shoulder. “I’ve got a lot to get done. And so do you. Call me if you end up needing me for anything, but don’t be surprised if it takes me a minute to get back to you because Shadow finally agreed to start checking out schools.”

  Barghest couldn’t help his smile. That kid was a stubborn one. That might have been what made him get along so well with Augury in the first place.

  “Alright,” he said. “Good luck.”

  “Gonna need it,” Augury said, and gave a little wave as she started down the side street. Barghest walked into the station and beelined for his office, stopping short at the sight of a silver-haired nephil standing in a glyphed breastplate.

  “Samael Trezza,” Barghest said. “An unexpected surprise.”

  “Sir,” Sam said, and offered him a folded piece of paper. Barghest looked him over, and took it, unfolding it. It was Ophelia’s handwriting.

  Dear Barghest,

  I’ve been thinking about what you said, and I’ve decided you were right. It’s time I turned this breast plate back in. I’ve needed it less and less as time has gone on, and the Hellwatch could use it.

  As you might have noticed, I’ve found you another half-seraph to wear it.

  Train Him as Well as You Trained Me,

  Ophelia

  Barghest looked up at Samael.

  “You think you can hack basic?” he asked.

  “I’m ready to give it my all, sir,” Sam said, straightening his shoulders. “My partner wanted us to get out of the line of fire. Asked me to stop with the bloodshed. This was really the best I could do while he’s fixing up the cafe under our apartment. It turns out it’s harder to take the fight out of the man, in my case.”

  Barghest nodded.

  “In that case you can start training first thing in the morning,” he said. “I hope you’re ready, because we’re going to need the extra hands.”

  Dorian’s fingers were healing up just fine. He wasn’t quite back up to performing yet, but he laced his fingers through her own as they approached the Dean’s office and she was pleased with the strength he was able to squeeze her hand with.

  “Break a leg,” he said, kissing her cheek.

  “I won’t be long,” she said, and nodded to him as she slipped inside.

  The Dean sat behind the desk with a long-tailed imp on one shoulder and a short-tailed one perched on a stand on his desk. He had a pair of half-moon glasses on, and seemed to be going through some papers.

  Ely’s application made a little slapping sound as it hit the desk.

  “Elysia Trezza,” she said. “I have an appointment.”

  “Ms. Trezza,” the Dean said. He already sounded unimpressed as he picked up her file. “Yes, I understand you were wanting to enroll in medical but had no interest in nursing. You should know this is unprecedented. Ordinarily I would applaud your ambition but I simply cannot in good faith let you believe there’s a chance for you to have a career—”

  He stopped talking as he leafed through her papers.

  “Is this your work?” he asked.

  “It is,” Ely said. “Give me a pen and I’ll draw you another one from memory.”

  She knew he was holding one of her organ illustrations. She’d drawn dozens of them while she was dissecting that gunner from before. The Dean gave her a curious glance.

  “You clearly have talent,” he said. She kept smiling instead of telling him how many hours had gone into her work. ‘Talent’ didn’t grow on tre
es. ‘Talent’ was a word people used when they wanted to discount the hard work a person put into what they were good at. “Even so, that doesn’t change the fact that your career options will be severely limited if there are any at all.”

  “And if that doesn’t matter to me?” she asked.

  He paused, clearly not having expected her to say that.

  “Tuition is a significant sum of money,” he said.

  Ely pulled a roll of sigils out of her pocket and they landed on the desk with a thud.

  “Is there anything else?” she asked.

  The Dean sighed.

  “No,” he said, “I suppose there isn’t. You start on the seventh, do not be late.”

  She gave him a little nod and turned to leave the office, only mildly disappointed that he hadn’t pushed the matter farther and let her delve into some of her more entertaining contingencies.

  “It’s too big a house for two people,” Tess said, sitting on the couch. Callum sat beside her and put an arm around her shoulders.

  “Don’t pretend there won’t be people all the time,” he said. “Between your politics and my degeneracy we’ll be in a constant state of entertaining guests.”

  “I had hoped your shoeshining days were behind you,” Tess said, but there was no bite in it. She looked up at him fondly and Callum leaned down to kiss her.

  “Well,” he said, “my Dad needs the extra hands and it’s not like a voice in the underground could hurt you.”

  “Oh, it could,” she said, “but I’m trusting you to be subtle.”

  “Subtle is my middle name,” he said.

  “Callum Subtle Trezza,” Tess said, smirking at him. “Or…maybe Callum Subtle Cassander?”

  She had an almost impish look on her face, but a glint in her left hand drew his eye. The golden band was plain and she held it up to him.

  “There will be an election before long,” she said. “The city doesn’t like to go without a mayor. I stand a better chance if I’m married.”

  “To a cambion?” he asked.

  “Consider it a statement,” Tess said. “This city is going to be different from now on. I’m committed to educating the masses on basic summoning and making sure every citizen is having their needs met, and not just the ones in the north end. Your family has been a shining example of exactly the attitude I want to exemplify the new order of things. Which…is my way of spinning the fact that I love you into something appealing to the masses.”

  He pulled her into his lap and tickled. Tess laughed, high and clear, and wiggled, trying to get away from him.

  “Oh, unappealing, am I?” he asked. He grinned and stopped his tickling, and when they finished moving his face was a breath away from hers. “I love you too. Let’s do this. Cassander and everything. I’m so on board. Besides, Tess Trezza just doesn’t sound right.”

  She kissed him. Callum felt his heart skip.

  Out of everyone with any sort of name for themselves in Daelan City, Callum Trezza was by far the most fortunate.