Burned
Page 114
When we reach the bottom and load him carefully into the Hummer, Drustan murmurs, “Och, Christ, how am I to tell Chloe? They fought so hard to remain together. Now she’s lost him for good.” He whispers something over Christian in Gaelic then turns to leave.
Ryodan steps into his path, blocking it. “Where do you think you’re going, Keltar.”
“Unlike you, I’ll no’ be leaving without retrieving what remains of my brother’s body for burial.”
He’s referring to Ryodan hastening us from the mountaintop without pausing to collect Barrons, which I know he did so Drustan and Jada wouldn’t see him vanish but no doubt appeared callous to the others.
Drustan’s gaze is bleak, haunted. “Too many times he took the burden upon himself to save us. I’ll see him buried properly, in the old ways, on Keltar ground, in Scotia. If the Draghar still inhabit his body, certain rituals must be performed. If not, aye, well, bloody hell if not, they’re free again.”
“I’ve no intention of returning to Dublin without Barrons,” Ryodan says. “I will collect your brother’s body as well. Christian needs you. Your clan needs you now.”
I search his face and am surprised to see something patient and understanding in those cool silver eyes.
“I know the sorrow of losing a brother,” Ryodan presses. “I’ll bring him back. Go.”
I wonder about Ryodan and Barrons. Did they once have other brothers? Did they lose them before they became what they are, or afterward? How? I want to know about these two, understand them, hear their tales.
I doubt anyone ever does.
Drustan glances between Christian and the shadowy entrance to the gorge, visibly torn, unwilling to do anything that might risk that for which his brother gave his life, equally unwilling to leave his brother’s body behind.
“Come, Drustan,” I say gently. “The living need you now. If Ryodan says he’ll bring his body back, he will.”
Ryodan says to me, “It may take time to find … all of him. Take Christian to Chester’s. Sequester him where we protected the Seelie Queen. He’ll be safe there while he heals.”
As Ryodan turns to go, Jada says, “I’ll come with you.”
“You will return with the others and protect them.”
“I’m not she who once—”
He cuts her off fast and hard. “I know who the fuck you are,” he clips the words out coldly. “You’re the only one that doesn’t. Dani could have anticipated the Hag’s movements. You could not. Jada.”
Ryodan vanishes into the night without another word.
I wince. That was harsh. Whether or not it was true.
The three of us join Christian in the Hummer and begin the long silent ride home.
38
“How I wish, how I wish you were here”
MAC
After seeing Christian and Drustan safely inside Chester’s, I’m surprised when Jada doesn’t immediately stalk off. With my spear, which I’m stunned to realize I’d forgotten about. But the three-day ride was depressing, Christian largely unconscious, Drustan deeply grieving, and neither Jada nor I in any mood to talk. I suspect my invisibility makes me feel safer, plus I’m still pumped by the final stages of Unseelie-flesh-high. Regardless, once she’d tucked the spear away somewhere, I’d not thought about it again.
Now I’m doubly surprised she didn’t rush off. Why linger and give me time to demand she return it? Jada does nothing without purpose.
We stand in taut silence outside Chester’s, eyeing the long line of people waiting to get in with distaste, and I’m reminded of the old Dani, how we would have sauntered off into the night to slay Unseelie and reduce the number of predators in our city, dozen by dozen, hoping to one day save these mindless lemmings from the apparently irresistible lure of flinging themselves off the proverbial cliff inside the club.
Neither of us has showered in nearly a week. I suspect if I could see myself, I’d look a fright. A week out, Jada still looks spit-and-polish perfect. I sigh, wondering if I’m going to have to fight to get my spear back. Truth is, I’m not entirely sure I can take it from her. Nor do I want to have to.
I opt for the direct approach. “Give me my spear, Jada.”
She glances in my general direction. “You can’t use it.”
“It’s mine. That’s enough of a reason.”
“Inefficient. Someone should be able to use it. I’m the obvious choice.”
I’d like to deny the validity of her words but I can’t. Given the risks, I’m unwilling to wield it. I can’t walk these streets and slay, and the sheer number of newly arrived Fae inside Chester’s tonight was staggering.
Without the sword—I wonder again where it is, that she can’t get to it—Jada can’t kill them. Seems a hell of a waste of lethal womanpower in this city.
Still, if the Sinsar Dubh decides to suddenly make me visible, I’m going to want it, need it.
“What happened after I chased you into the hall?”
“Like the one you called Dani, the past is irrelevant. I’m here now. That’s all that signifies.”
“What are your plans for the abbey?”
“None of your concern.”
“Once, we worked together.”
“Once, I was someone else.”
“What about the Book I carry?” I want to know if I have to watch my back every second of the day. I want to know how Jada thinks, if there are weaknesses in her mental defenses where I’m concerned.
Ryodan steps into his path, blocking it. “Where do you think you’re going, Keltar.”
“Unlike you, I’ll no’ be leaving without retrieving what remains of my brother’s body for burial.”
He’s referring to Ryodan hastening us from the mountaintop without pausing to collect Barrons, which I know he did so Drustan and Jada wouldn’t see him vanish but no doubt appeared callous to the others.
Drustan’s gaze is bleak, haunted. “Too many times he took the burden upon himself to save us. I’ll see him buried properly, in the old ways, on Keltar ground, in Scotia. If the Draghar still inhabit his body, certain rituals must be performed. If not, aye, well, bloody hell if not, they’re free again.”
“I’ve no intention of returning to Dublin without Barrons,” Ryodan says. “I will collect your brother’s body as well. Christian needs you. Your clan needs you now.”
I search his face and am surprised to see something patient and understanding in those cool silver eyes.
“I know the sorrow of losing a brother,” Ryodan presses. “I’ll bring him back. Go.”
I wonder about Ryodan and Barrons. Did they once have other brothers? Did they lose them before they became what they are, or afterward? How? I want to know about these two, understand them, hear their tales.
I doubt anyone ever does.
Drustan glances between Christian and the shadowy entrance to the gorge, visibly torn, unwilling to do anything that might risk that for which his brother gave his life, equally unwilling to leave his brother’s body behind.
“Come, Drustan,” I say gently. “The living need you now. If Ryodan says he’ll bring his body back, he will.”
Ryodan says to me, “It may take time to find … all of him. Take Christian to Chester’s. Sequester him where we protected the Seelie Queen. He’ll be safe there while he heals.”
As Ryodan turns to go, Jada says, “I’ll come with you.”
“You will return with the others and protect them.”
“I’m not she who once—”
He cuts her off fast and hard. “I know who the fuck you are,” he clips the words out coldly. “You’re the only one that doesn’t. Dani could have anticipated the Hag’s movements. You could not. Jada.”
Ryodan vanishes into the night without another word.
I wince. That was harsh. Whether or not it was true.
The three of us join Christian in the Hummer and begin the long silent ride home.
38
“How I wish, how I wish you were here”
MAC
After seeing Christian and Drustan safely inside Chester’s, I’m surprised when Jada doesn’t immediately stalk off. With my spear, which I’m stunned to realize I’d forgotten about. But the three-day ride was depressing, Christian largely unconscious, Drustan deeply grieving, and neither Jada nor I in any mood to talk. I suspect my invisibility makes me feel safer, plus I’m still pumped by the final stages of Unseelie-flesh-high. Regardless, once she’d tucked the spear away somewhere, I’d not thought about it again.
Now I’m doubly surprised she didn’t rush off. Why linger and give me time to demand she return it? Jada does nothing without purpose.
We stand in taut silence outside Chester’s, eyeing the long line of people waiting to get in with distaste, and I’m reminded of the old Dani, how we would have sauntered off into the night to slay Unseelie and reduce the number of predators in our city, dozen by dozen, hoping to one day save these mindless lemmings from the apparently irresistible lure of flinging themselves off the proverbial cliff inside the club.
Neither of us has showered in nearly a week. I suspect if I could see myself, I’d look a fright. A week out, Jada still looks spit-and-polish perfect. I sigh, wondering if I’m going to have to fight to get my spear back. Truth is, I’m not entirely sure I can take it from her. Nor do I want to have to.
I opt for the direct approach. “Give me my spear, Jada.”
She glances in my general direction. “You can’t use it.”
“It’s mine. That’s enough of a reason.”
“Inefficient. Someone should be able to use it. I’m the obvious choice.”
I’d like to deny the validity of her words but I can’t. Given the risks, I’m unwilling to wield it. I can’t walk these streets and slay, and the sheer number of newly arrived Fae inside Chester’s tonight was staggering.
Without the sword—I wonder again where it is, that she can’t get to it—Jada can’t kill them. Seems a hell of a waste of lethal womanpower in this city.
Still, if the Sinsar Dubh decides to suddenly make me visible, I’m going to want it, need it.
“What happened after I chased you into the hall?”
“Like the one you called Dani, the past is irrelevant. I’m here now. That’s all that signifies.”
“What are your plans for the abbey?”
“None of your concern.”
“Once, we worked together.”
“Once, I was someone else.”
“What about the Book I carry?” I want to know if I have to watch my back every second of the day. I want to know how Jada thinks, if there are weaknesses in her mental defenses where I’m concerned.
