by Rye Brewer
Like the elephant in the room, as the saying went.
“No. I don’t doubt it, though I wish I could.” I felt horrible for him.
He couldn’t trust his son. Hatred was what did that. And immaturity.
He shook his head, looking mournful. “I can hardly blame him. If anything, I blame myself.”
I could only sigh and wish it were possible to shake sense into him. “You can’t blame yourself for everything. I know how it feels to heap blame upon myself—there have been too many times when I did the same thing. But you aren’t responsible for your son’s actions.”
“He’s the youngest. He never got as much attention as the others. Gage and Jonah, well that was a battle between them, who would lead. One was older in human years, the other was turned first.” He shrugged.
I knew of his dilemma. I’d seen the friction between Jonah and Gage first hand.
“Philippa was my shining light,” he continued with a smile.
It was difficult for me to think sourly about her when I saw how much her father loved her. It was written all over his face and in the way his voice softened when he spoke of her.
“My clever girl. Sharp and charming and always able to make me laugh, even when clan business had me tied up in knots. I favored her. I admit that. So Scott…” He shrugged. “He fell by the wayside, and I feel terrible about that. To a degree, I take this upon myself.”
There was no arguing with him.
All I could say was, “I’m sorry this is happening. Scott is far into adulthood and is responsible for his actions, but I understand why you would feel badly about it.”
He looked at the back of his son’s head with a fondness I couldn’t begin to understand in the light of everything that had transpired. “Not only that, but I would like the chance to repair what’s between us. I can’t leave things like this.”
“Do you really think making him go to Duskwood with you will help you repair things? He’ll only resent being told what to do.”
“There’s just as good a chance there as there is if he were to go back to the penthouse and had a chance to brood.”
Which meant there was no chance at all. But I couldn’t say that. There was so much I wished I could say. I wished I could spare him what I saw coming his way. It wasn’t my job to do that. I had to learn when to mind my business.
When I looked to Sara, across the room but clearly straining to hear whatever she could, it was clear that she agreed with my thoughts, by the way her eyes narrowed. Warning me.
“Can you take me back to the penthouse before you go to Duskwood? I need to get out of this place and back where things make even a modicum of sense.”
“And I would rather have you away from all of this. It’s not just Philippa’s happiness I want. It’s Jonah’s—and yours. It might be a better idea to go to headquarters, however.”
“Why is that?”
“He should be there—I sent him, with Sirene, to take care of some business.”
“It doesn’t matter. I can course back to the city if I have to.”
I couldn’t have been more eager to get as far away from that terrible place as possible. Elewyn could bring out the sun and make things as beautiful as she wanted, but it would never be anything but a prison island full of pain. The energy would never be anything but desperate and dark. “And in case I forget to say this later: thank you. It feels weak and pitiful in the face of everything you’ve done to protect me, but it needs to be said. I wish I could do more for you.”
“You may get your chance one day, Anissa. Our paths will cross again, of course.”
I hoped so. I hoped he wasn’t placing too much faith in things going his way, in Elazar playing nice. Or in Scott letting him get through their new adventure without getting into even more trouble.
“Let me say goodbye to my sister?”
He stepped back, and I went to her.
“You’re leaving?” she asked.
“You should know. You’ve been listening in all along.”
“Super hearing isn’t one of my new abilities,” she muttered.
I threw my arms around her and squeezed tight. Why did it always feel as though I might be saying my last goodbyes whenever I parted ways with somebody I cared for?
“Please, be careful.” I pulled away and looked her in the eye. “You know what I mean.”
I meant Elewyn. I meant spending time with someone as obviously ruthless as her. Alone. Stark waited off to the side—I waved him over.
“You’re still leaving?” I asked, wishing he would say no.
“Yes—I’ll go back to Hallowthorn Landing. That’s the condition.” He looked at Sara. “And it’s what she wants.”
“It is.” She met my gaze and held it. “It really is.” I knew it was. I knew why it was, too. I wondered if he did. I wondered if a secret as big her deciding to wipe out the Starkers would possibly hurt whatever relationship they seemed to be building together.
I hugged her again. “Please, get in touch with me if anything happens. I mean anything at all. Keep me posted on your training. I’ll be worrying myself half to death the entire time you’re here.”
“All right. I’ll do whatever I can.” She patted my back with a brave smile, and it struck me how much like the older sister she seemed sometimes.
“What about Elena?” I asked Fane as we stepped outside, so he could create a portal to the human world.
I wondered if it would be even easier than ever for him to do it, being a full warlock.
Elewyn’s enchanted sun warmed my skin but didn’t burn me.
“I’ll bring her to Duskwood with me until arrangements are made for her.” He kept a stiff upper lip.
I had to give him credit for that much. One more look around the courtyard—my last look, I hoped—and we stepped through the portal together.
A laugh bubbled up out of my throat when I touched foot back on the ground, this time in front of the old cathedral.
“I’ve never wanted to kiss the ground before,” I admitted.
Everything was dark and quiet there, just the way I needed it to be. I needed peace. I took a deep breath and felt my muscles loosen in response.
Fane chuckled. “Indeed. Shadowsbane Island is hardly my favorite realm to travel to.”
“I can’t imagine why,” I snorted. But my light mood didn’t last long. “I thought I’d never see this place again,” I murmured, looking around.
As the saying went, it wasn’t much, but it was home.
“You wouldn’t have been there forever.”
“No. It would’ve felt like it, though. Especially if there was no way to get blood.” I hated to give it another minute’s thought, but all the horror that had run through my imagination while I waited for my sentence came back at once and left me more desperate than ever to be with Jonah. The memory of Sara’s suffering as I wondered if it would be like that for me.
“I would’ve found a way to get it to you. And Scott.”
I looked up at him with a fond smile. “I know you would have.” Even if it had meant harming himself in the process. “Well, I’d better go in. Will you come with me?”
He took a step back, shaking his head. “No. I don’t think I can see him like this.”
My heart sank, but I understood. “You know he wouldn’t judge you for it. I’d explain what happened. He would be happy you’re even alive.”
“You would think so, wouldn’t you? I would’ve thought the same thing about Scott earlier. Besides, I would rather spare him this. He has enough to think about right now.”
“You’re probably right.” Though I wished he’d give Jonah a little more credit.
“Please, don’t tell him what happened to me. Tell him anything else you want to, but not that.”
“What about Sirene? Something good might have come out of all of this, you know. You’re the same now. A witch and a warlock.”
His wry smile tugged at my sympathy. “Yes, but she would want
to know how it happened. If she found out it was Elazar who did it, she’d know right away that I’m indebted to him. She shouldn’t know that. Not now, not with the baby on the way. It will upset her too much.”
True. The baby already posed enough danger to Sirene’s health.
“All right. I understand. I won’t say a word.”
“Thank you, Anissa. Thank you for being there for my son. You don’t just make him happy. You care about what’s best for him and would spare him the things that will hurt him. That’s how I know you truly love him. I can rest easy knowing that.” Before I could catch my breath and choke out a reply, he stepped through the portal and vanished.
I was alone again.
But I wouldn’t be for long.
I hurried into the cathedral with the hope that Jonah would be waiting inside.
34
Anissa
It was so quiet inside headquarters. Eerily quiet.
I wasn’t used to being there without some sort of activity—preparation for a meeting, something which sent feet shuffling and voices carrying through the cavernous space.
I cringed at the sharp sound my boots made on the floor, and the lonely echo throughout the Great Hall. Where was everyone?
I wasn’t sure how to find Jonah, seeing as how I’d never gone any further than the meeting hall, so I called out his name.
“Jonah?”
Jonah? Jonah? Jonah?
My voice floated and doubled and tripled until it was the only sound in the world.
Another sound joined it. The sound of running feet.
“Anissa?”
I heard him before I saw him, coming from an alcove at the other end of the hall.
We met in the middle, crashing into each other, and I squeezed as tight as I could as my tears dripped onto his shoulder.
“I didn’t think I’d ever be able to do this again.” I buried my face in his neck and let him hold me while I cried it all out.
All of it. Not just the terror I’d faced when the verdict came down or the thought of being in a cell forever. The battle, seeing Samara die, being there as Fane almost died with her. The worry over Sara, the loss of my mother. All of it. It all came out as I held onto him for dear life.
“What is it?” Jonah asked, stroking my hair. He didn’t know any of it. He could afford to sound surprised and concerned and confused.
When I opened my eyes and looked across the hall, I saw Sirene watching us.
A fresh wave of tears hit when I remembered that Fane could’ve died and maybe should have, depending on what Elazar would make him do. There were things worse than death.
“So much has happened,” I wept. “So much. I don’t know where to start.”
“Start by sitting down.” Sirene touched Jonah’s shoulder to get his attention and directed us to a chair, where he set me down and crouched in front of me.
“What happened? You look like you’ve been through a war.” He took in my dirty clothes. “What did they do to you there?”
It took a long time for me to get it out, but I managed to tell them about Scott and the scene he’d caused with Sara and Stark.
Jonah’s eyes were stormy by the time I finished. “How could he be such an idiot? I’m ashamed of him.”
“That’s just the start of it,” I warned mournfully.
I told them of the pathetic excuse for a trial the Senate held, and I took my time in explaining our sentence.
Jonah took my hands as Sirene let out a gasp of surprise.
“But you’re here,” she whispered. “What happened?”
I groaned. “Elewyn happened. I don’t know if I should be grateful to her or not.”
“If she got you out of there, it seems like there’s no question,” Jonah observed, squeezing my fingers until the bones nearly crunched.
“I don’t know for sure. I don’t know what it all means.” I looked at Sirene, since she would understand better than Jonah would. “She overthrew the Senate and is now ruling Shadowsbane Island.”
Sirene staggered back, and Jonah made a move as if to catch her—his instinct to help her warmed my heart a little, since she would need us around her with Fane gone.
“I’m all right,” she breathed, a hand over her chest. The paleness of her face said otherwise. “It’s just a shock. I don’t remember a time when they weren’t the ruling body on the island. I suppose they ruled even before I was born.”
“You should be the one sitting. Not me.” I got up and lowered her into the chair.
“I’m fine. Really.” But she didn’t get up. Instead, she asked, “How did Elewyn manage her coup?”
“There was… a fight. A very large fight.”
“Is everyone all right?” Jonah took my arm.
“Everyone’s fine,” I lied.
It was a heavy lie and almost choked me, but I managed to get it out.
Jonah stared at me, trying to decide if I was being honest.
I wished Fane hadn’t made me promise. It was better for Sirene, however. She didn’t need to worry about him.
With that in mind, I continued. “Elewyn freed Elazar.”
“Of course, she did,” Sirene whispered. “That’s likely half the reason why she staged the coup.”
“I don’t like her.”
“Elewyn is a complicated witch. Powerful and ruthless.” She sounded tired.
“I saw that for myself. Elazar seems like a real piece of work, too.” I looked to Jonah, who was frowning more deeply than I had ever seen before. “Fane is taking him to Duskwood to hide him there.”
“He’s what?” Sirene asked, making a move as though she was about to stand. “He can’t do that.”
“I think it’s already been done,” I said, my hands firmly gripping her shoulders to hold her down. “He wants to use Elazar and a caster to free Vance.”
She winced, glancing at Jonah.
“What am I missing?” I asked.
“Vance escaped—or, rather, Valerius did. We still don’t know how.” He folded his arms, his teeth gritted.
So he had dealt with his own problems while I was gone.
“That won’t make things easier,” I muttered. “But what else is new? At any rate, he insisted on taking Scott with him, so he’ll be in Duskwood as well.”
“I could kill Scott.”
“So could I,” I growled. “I came close. Believe me. His immaturity set off everything else. I didn’t know he had that much hatred in him. I didn’t know it was possible for anyone in your family to behave that way—and I’ve seen what some of you can do when you feel strongly about something.” The memory of Gage’s insurrection was still fresh.
“As long as everyone is all right now,” he said, sliding an arm around my shoulders.
I rested my head against him, remembering the despair of looking into the future at endless centuries without being able to touch him. “I suppose I should be grateful to Elewyn for being able to do this, at least.”
One more thing weighed on my heart. My chin trembled.
“Gregor and Felicity were there, too. They came looking for me. They didn’t know what had happened, why I was in a cell, but they helped get me out.”
“Why do you sound like you want to cry?” Jonah asked, taking me by the chin and tilting my head back.
“Because my mother’s dead.” Saying the words set off another wave of fresh, burning tears.
“Ah, no. Anissa.” He wrapped me up in a tight hug which almost made everything better. Almost.
Nothing would replace her loss, especially not the second time I lost her. It was difficult enough after the Great Fire, but this? This was too much.
“You’re sure?” Sirene asked.
I managed to recount Gregor’s telling of what they found in the tower. By the time I finished, her eyes sparkled with unshed tears.
“I’m so sorry,” Jonah murmured.
“It’s cruel. Seeing her again, having her in my life—she was so happy about our engageme
nt, she wanted to plan the wedding. And now she’s gone again.” I looked up at him. “I have to go to Avellane to see my father. He must be crushed over this. They were together again. She was going to visit him—maybe permanently. He was so happy, and now…”
“I’ll go with you,” he announced.
“Are you sure you want to? Don’t you have things to do here?”
“Do you think I’ll let you out of my sight after everything you just told me? I almost lost you.”
“What if there’s a problem with you being there? Have you ever been?”
Before he had the chance to answer, I cut him off. “I don’t care even if there is. I’d like to see anybody try to get in my way. Don’t forget, I almost lost you, too.”
35
Jonah
“What about you?” I asked Sirene, who watched us with a soft smile.
I wouldn’t normally have been so affectionate with Anissa in front of her, but it was a strange time.
I could’ve lost Anissa for endless centuries. It would take a while before I’d be able to keep from holding her whenever we were in the same room.
“I’ll be fine,” she assured me. “The enchantment is in place.”
Even so, she looked worn out. I wondered if placing the enchantment had placed a strain on her.
“Do you want me to course you back to the high rise? You could get some rest there.”
“I can wait here. My presence may inspire the guards to stay alert.”
“That’s a good point.”
The guards seemed to be much more attentive than they had before I lost my temper, and that was a good thing, but there was no telling whether or not they’d stay on top of things while I was gone. I’d liked to have been able to trust them. As if I needed one more thing pulling at my attention. Having Sirene assist was a plus. I wished my siblings could get together and help, too, but they were scattered to the four winds.
As Anissa and I were leaving, she leaned in close to whisper in my ear. “When did you and Sirene become so friendly?”
“Jealous?” I whispered back, making her laugh.
It was a good sound. She needed to do more of that, especially after what she’d been through.