by Amy Miles
I shrugged. “Yeah. You didn’t have to come so often, so I’m grateful to ya. I just...I wasn’t ready, ya know? Needing to get my head wrapped around it all.”
With a small squeal, Tris threw her arm around me and hugged tight. “Of course I came. What sort of friend would I be if I didn’t?”
Though Tris and I hadn’t always seen eye to eye, and we didn’t exactly have a ton in common these days, I missed her. I never had many friends. Most of that was because I had a knack for pushing people away. It kept me from getting hurt. But Tris had this irritating but utterly delightful way about her that refused to be pushed aside. Even when I was moody and standoffish, she hung by my side. I had to give her major props for that.
For the first time I wished I could tell her about the reaper who consumed my thoughts. Maybe she’d have an insight I hadn’t thought of yet.
But when I started to speak, the boat tipped suddenly to the side to miss an oncoming ferry. My hands wrung together in my lap as I peered through the mists. There were Lorcan on that boat. I could feel them. Their anger was potent from where they stood chained within an upright cage. Reapers stood guard, shoulder to shoulder so that I couldn’t quite make out the hulking shapes.
The ferry was returning much later than it should have been.
Concealed within the layers of my dress was my dagger. I stole it back from Eivin this morning. Da would be furious with me if he knew I’d defied him, but he should have known that I would. There was no way in hell I was going back to the human realm without some protection.
Never before had there been a need for a female reaper, but times were changing. Soon enough the sex of a person wouldn’t matter. A blade would.
Tris would be among the first to fall without someone to protect her. Her nature was too delicate. As were my sisters. Just the thought of it made my temper rise. We had just as much a reason to fight as the men. Damn King Baylor and his archaic rules.
I looked around me, focusing on the backs of heads instead of the narrowing of the passage ahead. Forty-two people rode the boat each morning. Come evening, the hold below would be filled with the newly departed crossing over into the Netherworld. Half of those on the boat each morning were reapers, half were banshees. We tended to not mingle together. The biggest reason for that was the giggling that came from the row of banshees seated nearest the reapers.
I peered around the girl’s head in front of me and frowned. “There are several reapers missing.”
“So?” Tris shrugged and smoothed out her dress.
“It’s always been one or two.” I craned my neck to count. “It’s not like we get holidays.”
Tris pushed back her hood, wincing at the frigid spray as she looked ahead of us. Six seats were vacant. She didn’t seem concerned until she noticed that two reapers in particular were missing.
“Wait, where are Riordan and Cillian?” Tris asked.
“Aye. Where indeed? Nice of ya to care only when it suits ya.” I chuckled, tucking my hands under my arms to warm them.
She snorted and sank back onto her seat. “They could be ill.”
“On the same day?” I shook my head. “I’d wager they’ve been called to the Wall.”
“Shh.” Tris looked around her. “Eivin warned me that ya might start sharing your conspiracy theories again.”
Of course he did.
“The king has already tried to kill me once, Tris.” I leaned in closer to her. “He’ll do it again whenever he likes. There’s no point in my holding back now.”
“Taryn,” she hissed and yanked hard on my arm. “Canna ya just let it go for a little while? Just until things cool off. I’m sure with enough time things will get better.”
That made one of us. But I reminded myself I was going to try to patch things up with her.
“Fine. If it will make ya happy.”
Tris looked like she didn’t believe me. I agreed far too easily. “Ya have a life here, a good one if you’ll let yourself see it. Stop chasing shadows that don’t exist.”
“What was it you said earlier? Just because you say a thing doesn’t make it true?”
She stuck out her tongue at me. “It’s not fair to twist my words around.”
“It is when they are true.”
Tris straightened her cloak. “Blast you and your logic. Somehow you always out maneuver me.”
I reined myself in before saying anything more and ruining our time together. I had to believe she chose the lies, needing all to be well with the world, because it was easier. Lies didn’t cost her anything. Having lost her mom at such a young age, I knew the pain she carried was still fresh. Without a body to bury or an explanation for her ma’s mysterious disappearance, Tris couldn’t heal.
That was the day we grew apart. The day when real life hurt too much for her to deal with. When dresses and boys became a source of escape for her. I couldn’t begrudge her that, but I also couldn’t say nothing.
I loved Tris and would do anything to keep her from harm. Even if that meant telling her a truth she wasn’t ready to hear.
I turned away from her and lifted my eyes up to the sun as we escaped the icy fingers of the veil. The boat rocked as we drifted into earthly waters teeming with life and colour. They were a brilliant contrast to the faded colours of my realm.
A wooden plank was lowered when we bumped against the shore. Tris rose to wait our turn to disembark. Her dress matched my own: long, flowing silk that trailed along the ground behind us. Someone with far more poise could manage the length, but I was not exactly graceful in dress shoes.
I missed my leathers, but Eivin had made sure to burn the pieces so they couldn’t be used as evidence against me. There was a spare set hidden beneath a loose floorboard under my bed, but no one knew about those. I wasn’t ready to risk it just yet. Not until the real battle began.
The reapers disembarked first, carrying curved glass daggers and whips forged from the mists of the Netherworld at their hips. Eivin paused to look back at me.
Be careful, he mouthed then fell back into line.
“Do ya ever think about how cute he is?”
“Eivin?” I turned to look at Tris like she’d just sprouted three heads. “Of course I don’t.”
“I’m just saying. Even you can admire a beautiful view.”
I glanced over at Eivin and scrunched up my nose. I followed behind her as we disembarked from the ferry and took to the path that would lead us to town. “There is something very wrong with the world when my best friend can convince me to check out my own cousin’s ass.”
CHAPTER NINE
DEVLIN
A S WE WAITED FOR the doctors to take her into surgery, I tried to swallow down the permanent lump in my throat. After she was prepped, we’d have six hours to pray. They would need to re-open her incisions that ran from her neck to her navel. Even that procedure put her at risk. Nothing about this day would be predictable, so we were all on edge.
The sound of her heart monitor filled the silence of the room with a constant reminder of what was at stake. The sun crested the clock tower at high noon and flooded Alana’s bed with a radiant glow. Almost as though it were illuminating the divine. It was a stunning image as long as you didn’t take it as some sort of sign.
A light tap on the door gave us all a bit of a jolt. Turning, I saw the top of Seamus’ eyes poking through the small glass window of Alana’s door. I cocked my head to the side, trying to process how his showing up now made me feel. I suppose I should have felt happy, but I wasn’t.
“I’ll be right back,” I said to my parents, who gave me a small nod before I left.
I didn’t have to go far to find him. He sat, crumpled inside one of the blue chairs that lined the hallway between patient rooms. He was rubbing his hands together, clearly uncomfortable. Good. He should feel bad. He was a ripe arse for not coming sooner.
“I sent you about a hundred texts since Alana took ill and this is the one you decided to respond to?” I did m
y best to keep my temper in check.
“Aye.” His eyes were on the floor. His voice was thick.
I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Aye? That’s it? No ‘I’m sorry I’ve been a wanker for not coming sooner?’ No sob story about how you couldn’t find the bus fare to get down here for an entire year? No pathetic excuse why visiting your best mates wasn’t an option?”
My words made him flinch. They were harsh, even if they were true.
“Look, Devlin, I’m sorry I didn’t come before. It’s just—”
“No!” I shouted. My hands started shaking. Seamus looked up at me, taken aback. “No. You don’t get to bumble in here on the day of her surgery and expect me to sit back and say, ‘It’s okay, mate, no hard feelings.’”
“Devlin—” he tried, standing to meet my gaze.
“She needed you, Seamus. She needed her friends.” I shook my head. “None of them came, not a single one, but I expected that. They were only classmates, after all. But you? We grew up together. She thinks of you like a brother, but you couldn’t be bothered, could you?”
He clenched his fists together. I knew that gesture well. It didn’t work. No matter how hard you squeezed, the anger stayed put.
“I knew I’d make things worse if I came.”
The double doors opened beside us and the day shift nurse named Ciara walked past us. She was pushing a crash cart, forcing me to gain my composure.
“Afternoon, Devlin,” she said. Her smile was kind, yet sad. She knew the prognosis was unreliable. “I’ll be praying for you today.”
I nodded my thanks. She meant well. Maybe she would even say a prayer, but at the end of the day, she got to go home. She’d likely curl up in the arms of her husband and forget all about those who lay helpless in her wing.
“I’m sorry,” Seamus said once the nurse had passed us. “I am so sorry. I know there’s no excuse for not coming sooner. I tried. I did. It’s just…being at any hospital reminds me of—” His eyes welled. Seamus never cried, not even when his ma passed when he was a young boy. She had spent her last days in a room much like Alana’s before the stroke finally took her. Right now, though, he looked like he was about to lose it.
I felt like a daft prick. Thinking on it, I’d never seen him in any hospital. Not even when he broke his nose when he got in a fight with Patty O’Shea when he was twelve. He chose to let it set wrong instead of stepping foot into a hospital.
I let out a deep breath, knowing we all had our own demons to fight. This was his.
“It’s okay, Seamus,” I said to the floor after a moment. I knew my voice was laced with resignation, but I couldn’t help it. That was a hurt that was gonna take some time to heal. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
Seamus shook his head. “No. It’s not okay. I mean”—he wiped the tear that attempted to fall and looked me in the eye—“what if she doesn’t make it? Or, what if she does make it, but the cancer comes back? What if she comes out if it and is nothing more than a vegetable?” There was an edge of hysteria in his voice.
His ‘what ifs’ were like daggers, but they were also the deep, dark thoughts I’d had a million times myself, but never dared to say out loud.
“She’s gonna come through this,” I said even though I knew it was a lie. It was an expression we had been conditioned to say. “She’s strong.”
Seamus walked to Alana’s door and looked in the window. “She doesn’t look strong,” he whispered. “She looks like she’s a breath away. Jesus, why did this have to happen to her?” His hands dug into his hair. “It’s not fair!”
His shout echoed off the walls, making a nurse, who was wheeling a patient into a room, turn her head for a moment. They must get this sort of outburst a lot because she went back to her work without a second glance. I didn’t say anything. I let him rage. I’d been through this stage. It was hard as hell. And I had to do it alone. I tried not to show this anger to my folks. They were barely holding on as it was.
“Why don’t you go in and say ‘hi’ to her?”
Seamus’ eyes widened. “No. No. I don’t think I could—”
“She’ll never forgive you if you don’t.”
His shoulders slumped as he considered it. He could probably hear Alana scolding him in his head. After a moment, he nodded.
“It will be okay,” I said, though even I didn’t believe it.
I opened Alana’s door as I had a million times before. My folks were exactly where I’d left them. “Ma, Da, look who came for a visit?”
They both looked up and gave Seamus a warm smile. Ma stood and gave him a hug, while Da waited to shake his hand.
“Thanks for coming,” they both said as warmly as warranted, given the grave situation.
“Of course,” Seamus said, taking a step towards Alana. He stopped at the foot of her bed. His breath altered and his mouth dropped. I couldn’t even imagine what he must have thought at that moment. The last time he saw her she was still speaking and telling jokes. She still had her hair and hadn’t been this frail.
Seeming to understand his shock, Da squeezed Seamus’ shoulder.
“We’ll give you lads a minute.” He reached out to Ma and they left together, hand in hand, Ma’s head resting against Da’s arm. The gesture reminded me that the burden of the last year had been great for all of us.
I, too, started to take my leave to give Seamus some privacy, but he stopped me with an outstretched hand.
“Oy, don’t leave.” His eyes were wide. He was scared. So was I.
“I’ll be out in the hall. It’s okay. You can talk to her. She won’t bite.” I gave him a half smile and walked outside, but continued to watch him through the glass once the door closed.
For a second, he didn’t budge. He simply stood there taking it all in. He took a few tentative steps to sit in the seat on her right.
His lips moved, but I couldn’t hear what he said. He was probably hoping that his words alone would heal her, like some sort of movie. I know I believed that at first, but this was real life, and his words couldn’t wake her up. She remained unchanged, frozen between life and death, still as the night.
He reached out and took her hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb, something I’d never seen him do with her before. After a moment, he lowered his head onto her bed.
Giant sobs erupted from the guy I had never seen cry before as he grabbed at her bed sheets. Wails that were so grief-stricken my throat tightened with compassion. It was only then that I started to wonder how much my sister might have meant to Seamus.
When he came out, he didn’t say anything. He gave me a big hug and walked off, shoulders slouched in on themselves as he tucked his hands into his pockets. As he rounded the corner, the gurney arrived with a crew of four nurses. It was time. I crossed myself and did one final prayer before I rejoined my parents.
Countless cups of coffee were fetched for Ma as we endured the overcrowded surgical waiting room after Alana was taken back to prep for surgery. The tele played in the background, though none of the words seem to get through into my mind. No one was watching it, but it covered the sound of the ever ticking clock that hovered over all of us. Every now and again a physician came in and the whole room perked up, hoping that he or she would have news about their loved ones. After the fourth time of not being our doctor, I stopped looking up. I had a feeling we’d be the last family here.
The screen above me was set on a local news channel. The depressing reports dampened the mood of the room even further, if that were possible. Robberies, wars, cruelty. It was too hard to watch. I was about to turn my back on it when a story caught my eye. The headline read: SUDDEN INCREASE IN MENTAL ILLNESS PLAGUES NORTHERN IRELAND. The woman reporter on the screen wore the ever stern looking face of being the bearer of bad news.
“According to a recent study, there has been a spike in cases of mental illness and schizophrenia in Northern Ireland. Doctors are baffled by what may be causing this increase. Researchers are lo
oking into air quality and local water supplies for some clue as to the nature of this epidemic. Patients are said to be suffering from some form of delusion, says Dr. Ward of the Mental Institute of Ireland. Ward claims that several patients have felt ‘evil spirits’ or dark shadows coming towards them. Some are even claiming to have been ‘marked’ by the Devil himself. They claim their skin has been burned black by evil. The institute was not available for comment.” The news anchor’s eyes shifted as she shuffled her papers. When she looked up, her grim expression was replaced with a bright smile. “In other news, Dottie, the water skiing dog, made an appearance on—”
Black burns? Mental illness increase? I couldn’t help but wonder if that had anything to do with my hallucination about the dying girl...Maybe I was going mad?
I pushed the idea out of my head. One thing was certain. If I thought about it too much, I would go crazy. I was sleep deprived and stressed, is all.
Standing up, I walked away from the tele and began to pace, trying my best to keep those errant thoughts at bay.
As the hours wore on, I found myself lying down on a stretch of chairs. I tried to resist the tug of sleep, but the monotony of it all finally got to me. My eyelids were no match against the sleepless nights as of late. I drifted off and dreamt of the blond girl and the blood that followed after her.
When Ma shook me awake, I found myself a bit fuzzy-headed, struggling to remember where I was.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I asked, straightening myself.
It was Da who answered me. “She’s in recovery. The physician wants to speak with us.”
Brushing the sleep from my eyes, I stood up and straightened my shirt collar. “Let’s go then.”
Together we followed a nurse who led us to where a surgeon was waiting farther down the hall. He was still in his green scrubs. A thin layer of sweat covered his face. His dark eyes looked tired. He gestured to the seats beside him. Ma and Da each sat, but I remained standing.