by TJ Klune
“His lion what now?” Mom asked, squinting at me.
“Sam’s read The Butler and the Manticore one too many times,” Kevin said. “For some reason it was the only novel he brought with him on our little excursion to the woods.”
“I didn’t think that was actually a real book,” Dad said.
Kevin shrugged. “Who even knows anymore. Just roll with it.”
“There’s nothing going on between them,” Mom said firmly. “They’re friends and nothing more, so you get that thought out of your head right now. Justin doesn’t see Ryan like that. And even if he did, Ryan would never because his heart belongs to you. It always has.”
“He’s angry, though.”
“Who told you that?” Dad asked.
“Katya and Brant implied it.”
Dad groaned. “They shouldn’t have said anything to you about that. It’s not for them to say. It’s… complicated. He’s—”
The door to their house opened.
An older woman appeared in the doorway. Her dark hair was pulled back, more gray than black now. She had a shawl wrapped around her thin shoulders and bangles clinking together on her wrists. She didn’t look surprised to see me, eyes narrowed slightly.
I had to stop myself from reaching over and popping her right in the mouth. I didn’t, because a man was never to hit a lady, unless it was Lady Tina, because she deserved it more than anyone in the world.
It was close, though.
“Chava,” she said. “It’s about time you showed. Foolish boy. Taking forever in the woods. You a big wizard now? You don’t look like it. I have seen your homecoming because of the sight. I knew you would walk through the gates this day. For first time, I thought the sight failed me. Surely a coward wouldn’t return after this long.”
“Vadoma,” I breathed.
“SHE LIVES here?” I hissed in the kitchen, Dad having pulled me past Vadoma before I could do anything, like emotionally devastate her with a well-placed barb. “Have you all lost your godsdamn minds? I go away for eleven months to learn how to be even more badass than I already am, only to come back and find that you’re all hobnobbing with most of my enemies!”
Hobnobbing, Dad mouthed to Mom, rolling his eyes.
“Only two of your enemies,” Mom said, patting my shoulder. “I’m sure you have many more than that. There’s something about your face that people don’t seem to like, sometimes. I can’t fathom what that could be. It’s a good face.”
“Maybe even the best face,” Dad said. “We should know. We made it.”
“Aside from scarring me with that mental image, can someone please explain? Vadoma lives here. In this house. With you. In case you can’t remember, here’s a refresher. She is a terrible person who should fall off a cliff and die when she lands on really sharp rocks!”
Mom hugged me.
“What the hell,” I muttered but hugged her back, because she was my mother, and I’d missed her so.
“It’s good to know you’re still oddly specific about the ways people should die,” Mom said, sniffling in my ear.
“I’m not that bad.”
She laughed wetly and kissed my cheek before pulling away. “I missed you. More than anything.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Me too.”
“If you ever do that again, I will push you into an active volcano and watch as the molten magma melts away your skin and bones. Do we understand each other?”
“So specific,” I whispered. “That was amazing.” I cleared my throat. Then, “We understand each other.”
She nodded slowly. “Good. You’re still grounded.”
“I’m a man now. You can’t just—did you just lick that napkin? Why are you putting it on my face? That’s disgusting!”
“You’re covered in dirt,” she said, holding my jaw and frowning in concentration as she scrubbed my face.
“Didn’t you hear what I just said? I’m a man—Mom, seriously, stop rubbing me with your spit napkin!”
“You’re still loud as always,” a voice said from the entrance to the kitchen. “Loud and foolish. That should be your name now. Sam the Loud and Foolish.”
“Hi, Vadoma,” I grumbled as I gave in and let my mom rub her saliva on my cheeks. “Nice to see you, Vadoma. Glad you’re here, Vadoma.”
She sniffed dismissively as she walked into the kitchen, moving as she always had, head held high, feet sliding along the wooden floor as if she were almost dancing. Her bangles clinked together, sounding like wind chimes in a soft summer breeze. “I predicted your return. It is good to know that I am right.”
I snorted. “Yeah, I bet you did.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “You doubt me.”
“Yeah, see, I don’t know if that fully encapsulates the thoughts going through my head. It’s not that I just doubt what you said. It’s more that I doubt everything about your entire existence. In the too-long, didn’t-read scope of things, I think you’re full of shit.”
“Sam,” Mom chided, squeezing my chin a little tighter before letting me go. The white napkin was now black like the darkest part of night. Which, you know. Ghastly.
“What? It’s true!”
“He’s not wrong,” Dad said mildly.
“Joshua!”
I high-fived my father because he was wonderful and I adored him.
“Still the same,” Vadoma said. “I would have thought going into the woods would have changed you. How disappointing. The gods must surely be regretting you now. And that dragon. Filthy creature. He should never have been part of the prophecy. A waste, he is. Such a shame.”
“Maybe you should keep Kevin out of this,” I told her. “I don’t take kindly to people badmouthing my friends.” Because that was my job. And I was already going to give him so much shit, as he’d told me he was going to go roll around in Gary’s scent in the barn like the aberration that he was. But it was probably a smart thing to do, as it would potentially keep Gary from raining his fury down upon him. I wondered if I should do the same in Ryan’s bed. Was that weird? It seemed a little weird. “And I can assure you I’m not the same person who you saw last in Mashallaha. To think otherwise would be a mistake you would regret.”
“Are you threatening me, chava?”
I shrugged. “Take it as you will. But as a threat would be nice. I’m getting pretty damn good at that, apparently. How’s Ruv, by the way? Haven’t seen your Wolf since he stabbed Ryan in the chest after revealing he worked for Myrin.”
“Sam!” Mom barked.
“No,” I said. “I deserve an answer. She brought him into our home and he tried to kill my cornerstone.”
Silence. From everyone.
I arched an eyebrow at Vadoma, daring her to speak.
She did, and her voice sounded shaky. “I wouldn’t know how he is.”
I chuckled. “It doesn’t matter, I guess. I’ll get to him eventually. And to you, of course, if the need should call for it. I don’t know how you did it, worming your way back into my parents’ lives, but if I suspect you’re doing anything untoward, I will end you. It’s as simple as that.”
Her eyes were wide. “I was wrong,” she said slowly. “You have changed. And I don’t know if it’s for the better.”
She left the kitchen after that, shawl trailing behind her.
And then Mom said, “Mashallaha was destroyed. It was one of the first to fall. Razed to the ground. The gypsies enslaved. Vadoma was powerless to stop it. She escaped, but barely. She came to Castle Lockes near death.”
I closed my eyes. “Shit.”
“I know you have… history,” Dad said. “With her. And it’s tainted, just like ours is. And rightly so. What she said, what she did. It wasn’t fair, to you or to anyone else. But if she’s to be believed, she was influenced. By Ruv and whatever magic he possessed.”
I sighed. “Yeah. He told me. Back when he—hurt Ryan. He told us that he instilled himself into the memories of the gypsies so that they’d think
he was something more than he was. That he was the Wolf to the phuro. That he was meant to be my cornerstone. I didn’t believe a word coming out of his mouth, but it’s—is that what happened?”
“So she claims,” Mom said.
“You believe her.”
“Do you believe Ruv?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’ve had a long time to think about it. You talk about hindsight and seeing the good in people. But neither of you were there that day. In that house. None of you saw what I did. Caleb, who took us there. Lady Tina, who planned it, working with a man I thought was my friend. Ruv stabbing Ryan in the chest. Myrin consuming Morgan’s magic. You speak of forgiveness, but I don’t know if I can do that. Not now. Maybe not ever. And it all comes back to Vadoma. Her vision of my destiny.”
“Does it, though?” Dad asked. “I thought she was just a messenger.”
I glared at him. “Semantics. If she’d never come to Castle Lockes—”
“Then we might have been caught unaware,” Dad said. “Because we wouldn’t have known what was coming. She did us—and you—a favor.”
I sighed. “You know I hate it when you use logic against me. It’s not fair.”
Dad shrugged. “My power as a parent is exploiting your greatest weakness.”
“I’m going to pretend that’s you saying you love me more than anything. Because of my self-esteem.”
“Probably best that way.”
“We couldn’t leave her alone,” Mom said. “Regardless of what she’s done, she’s still my mother. She might have shunned me, but I couldn’t do the same to her, because that’s not who I am. We are stronger together than we ever are apart. That’s something I’ve learned, Sam. Here. In this place. After Lockes fell, we—it was hard. For all of us. We all lost people. Some to the dungeons. Others crossed the veil. And some disappeared into the woods, leaving behind a letter ten sentences long like it was any kind of justification.”
I blinked at the anger in her voice. “I didn’t—”
“I have to do what is right,” she snapped at me. “What has been asked of me. I cannot stop him. Not now. Not as I am. Sometimes you have to face your destiny head-on. And that’s what I am going to do. I love you all. Stay safe. I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
I gaped at her.
“She memorized it on the second day,” Dad whispered to me. “So she could yell it at you when you got back. It’s best to just go with it since she’s been working her way up to this for a long time.”
“But what about all the hugging and the crying and the happiness? I mean, sure, you said I was grounded—which, really, that’s not going to happen—but I thought we were already past all this? C’mon, guys. Let’s hug again, just to deflect some more—I mean, because it feels good and I love you more than anything.” I finished by giving them the ol’ Look-How-Precious-Sam-Is eyes.
“Oh no,” Mom said. “Absolutely not. You put those things away right now.”
I widened my eyes just a bit more. I probably looked like I was trying to pop them out of my head.
“I know you were betrayed,” Mom said, mouth in a thin line. “And I know you have every right to be angry. But so do we. Your father and me. Gary. Tiggy. Justin. And Ryan. You were hurt. Your heart had been broken. We know how much Morgan meant to you. What the weight of all of this must have felt like. But that doesn’t excuse you from sneaking off in the middle of the night. In not trusting us enough to tell us what was going on. What you were going to do. We all lost someone that day, Sam. Not just you. And then you made it worse by leaving with Kevin.”
“He followed me,” I muttered, unable to look her in the eyes. “I didn’t ask—”
“You don’t have to ask,” she retorted. “Because we would follow you anywhere. But we can’t unless you tell us. Do you know how devastated Tiggy and Gary were? Sam, they looked for you. For months. Longer than even we did.”
“I don’t—”
“And Ryan. Don’t even get me started on Ryan. He woke days after you left, and the first thing he said was your name.”
I hung my head, my heart sore, my eyes burning.
“You were betrayed. But so were we. We watched as Mashallaha fell. As Meridian City fell. As the walls of the City of Lockes were breached. As we realized we couldn’t win. As the King was taken prisoner. As Myrin sat upon his throne and laughed. As we were forced from our homes. All the while not knowing where you were or when you’d come home. We had faith in you, Sam, even if we didn’t know where you were.” She paused, staring at me.
I fidgeted.
“This is the part where you tell us where you were,” Dad whispered. “Just in case you didn’t know.”
“I—can’t. Not yet. I know it’s—just. Not yet.”
Mom shook her head, but she didn’t press. “We have done what we could while waiting for you. And during that time, we’ve made choices that you might not agree with. But that’s on you, not us. You were hurt. I get that. I love you, Sam, I really do, but I need you to get over yourself and face this reality. Vadoma is here because she has nowhere else to go. Lady Tina is here because she has sinned and now seeks repentance. I know you don’t trust them. I’m asking you to trust me.”
“That was terrible and manipulative,” I said in awe. “And I can’t believe I’m falling for the entire thing. Who knew you could be so calculating?”
She looked rather pleased with herself. “Where do you think you got it from?”
“It certainly wasn’t me,” Dad said. “I was innocent before I met your mother. The Northern people tend to be as pure as the snow upon which we lived.”
“You’re welcome,” Mom said, kissing his cheek.
“I missed you guys,” I said hoarsely. “Just so you know. I thought of you every day. You were always with me.”
They both opened their arms for me.
And if I ran toward them, it was nobody’s business but our own.
I WALKED out the front door of the house, meaning to go check on Kevin and all his perversities, when I found Vadoma on the porch, sitting in a chair. Her teeth were clenched around an ornate wooden pipe, thick blue smoke curling up around her head like a heavy fog. I thought about ignoring her and continuing on my way, but of course, she wouldn’t let the moment pass her by.
“I was wrong.”
I sighed as I stopped. “So you said. Is that an apology?”
“I have nothing to apologize for.”
“Well, I don’t know if that’s true.”
“You need a haircut. You look like a sickly, mangy dog.”
“Gee. Thanks.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Some things change. It appears that others do not. You are different, yes, but you are still Sam.”
“Very astute of you. Now, if there’s nothing else, I need to—”
“My home is gone. My people have been taken from me.”
Godsdammit. “Mom and Dad told me.”
She frowned, sucking on her pipe before blowing out even more smoke. “I did not know about Ruv. He… bewitched me. Made me believe things I did not.”
“So I’m told.”
“I did not know.”
“Great. Glad we’ve had this talk. I really have to go check on—”
“You said you would end him. And me, if called for.”
“And I meant it.”
“Yet you’ve also said you’re not a killer. Which is it?”
“I don’t—”
“You won’t have a choice, I think. It will either be them or you. Him. The Darks. Ruv. Myrin. You have had others do your work for you. Your giant. Your dragon. Your… horse.”
“Hey! You watch your tongue. He’s a motherfucking unicorn made of sunshine and rainbows and good feelings—”
“Bah,” she said, waving her hand at me. “Filthy creatures. All of them. I have no need for horses. But the point remains. This is your destiny, Sam. You have shown mercy. It is a weakness and will one day be your undoing. He will not sho
w you the same.”
She was right, but like hell would I ever admit it. “I’ll do what I need to.”
“I was wrong. About you.”
“Wow. A third time. Stop. Please. I don’t know if my ego can—”
“Stop.”
I did.
“I underestimated you. Your whole life. You were my grandson, but your father… diluted your blood.”
“Not the best thing to say right now, if I’m being honest.”
She ignored me. “I didn’t think you’d be as you were. Even when I came to Castle Lockes, I thought you weak and immature. You came to my home, and you somehow got the desert dragon on your side, and I still didn’t think you could do what the gods asked of you. You faced Myrin, and his marks were on your skin, and I told myself you were a child, incapable of doing anything seriously. Maybe it was the enchantment placed upon me, but I think not. I think that’s how I truly felt.”
“Wow, Grandma. Thanks for this. It’s so pleasant.”
“But then you left. And the others are angry at you for it. I do not envy you facing their wrath.”
“Yeah, it’s going to be a shit show, that’s for damn sure.”
“But I thought it brave.”
I blinked at her. “That sounded suspiciously like a compliment.”
She rolled her eyes. “You made a choice few could have made. And while I believe part of it was running from those you’d left behind, I choose to believe you did what you did because you knew it was necessary. For you. For the people of Verania. And while they may not understand, you left to become more than you were.”
“Wow,” I breathed. “You love me.”
“I didn’t say that—”
“I mean, the feeling isn’t mutual or anything, because hey, I don’t even really know you aside from all the bad-touching, but damn. You think I’m stupendous.”