“Outside of our home cave.”
If I wanted information, I would need to ask specific questions, apparently. He was answering, but didn’t understand the idea of elaborating. “Why were you not allowed outside the cave?” I asked.
“Basilisks kill with a single glance. They didn’t want me causing a stir in nearby cities.”
My eyes met his without thinking. The slitted red snake eyes blinked back at me, reminding me of how demonic he’d looked when they’d been pure black. I’d known basilisks killed with a look. I hadn’t been aware they could turn that ability off, but Abraxas could. Otherwise, I’d be dead already. His oddness might have something to do with him being only half, but his parents were likely half-basilisks too. Full-blooded ones were exceedingly rare.
“Have you killed many people? With your gaze?”
He shook his head. “I do not know how. The ability was not natural to me, which is why my family considered me defective.”
“Then why didn’t they want you out in the world?”
“Because when people realized I wasn’t killing everyone, they would come back to our nest hoping to rid the world of a few more basilisks. In their eyes, I was both a disgrace and a threat.”
Abraxas’ story, as horrible as it was, made me feel better. I had it easy. My family had been disappointed in my lack of natural talent, but only disappointed. There was no anger. No fear of me bringing down their social status, though I undoubtedly had. They’d been supportive, amazing parents until they’d been killed.
“I’m sorry your parents saw you like that.”
“I told you, there’s no need for sympathy.”
“You telling me that doesn’t stop me from feeling it.”
He had nothing else to say. All he did was stare at me, tail stroking along my arm, until I couldn’t make any kind of eye contact for any longer. Seconds stretched into minutes, and I was lulled to the point of almost falling asleep. My body was tired. “Can you let me down now, please?” I asked, my voice heavy with the weight of fatigue. “I should go back to categorizing the books.”
“Why would you climb this ladder again when it almost killed you the last time?” he asked.
Instead of releasing me, his hold tightened. It felt… protective. “I need to organize the books. There’s got to be a clue in here somewhere about how I can lift the seal and leave this house.”
“You will not be climbing the ladder again.”
I was about to argue and demand he let me go, but his tail moved. Wrapped around my torso, he shifted me until I was above the comfiest of the couches, and left me to sit. Then, he used his tail to push himself up until he was level with the top shelf of books. “Which book did you require?” he asked.
“Do you realize how long this is going to take? I can’t make you help me for that long,” I said, trying to stand.
The tip of his tail pressed against my chest, forcing me to stay seated. “You are not climbing the ladder again,” he said, repeating himself. “Which book?”
Sighing, I settled back into the cushions of the couch. This was much more comfortable than being five metres in the air, body aching from keeping my balance on the step. He would get sick of helping eventually, but for now I would have a break. “The spine is blue, slightly to your right. And I need my clipboard from wherever it fell, if you’re not letting me stand up.”
He passed me both items, along with the pen that nearly killed me, and we created our own rhythm. I took my notes, then he passed me a new book. He’d grab a few at a time off the shelf so he wasn’t constantly going back and forth, but I imagined hoisting himself up high got exhausting after a while. Then again, this was the man who exclusively travelled through holes he’d made through the floors and ceilings of the house. Abraxas was strong and used to vertical travelling.
Doing this for me, he never complained. Or spoke. Our original conversation must have been plenty for him, because he never said a word. I would occasionally mumble a thank you, or instructions to grab a specific book next, but he would only nod his assent.
I’d gotten through the entire top shelf and half of the second highest by the time a voice from the corridor made me stiffen. “Abby, have you seen Hadley?” Zan’s voice carried, and he didn’t wait for a response before floating into the room, glancing around absentmindedly.
I froze at his proximity before flight kicked in, sending me scrambling until I stood in the furthest corner. His ghostly form was fading in and out, like he wasn’t focusing on trying to stay visible, and it made the sudden crush of memories worse. An invisible ghost, merely a ripple in the air. Clawed hands shooting out of nowhere, rapidly turning from invisible, to smokey, to solid enough to tear through my flesh.
My breaths came out fast and shallow, and I closed my eyes.
No, that was worse.
I opened them again, finding Zan staring at me in horror, his smoke form solidified now. “I’m so sorry!” he squeaked. “I was only trying to avoid you.”
He backed out of the room so fast, I would’ve believedhewas terrified ofme. With him out of sight, my terror steadily lowered to a manageable level. Abraxas was watching me, settled down between me and the door, his gaze scanning every inch of my body. I was embarrassed about him feeling my panic. My terror. Every over the top reaction my body had to being in Zan’s presence, he sensed. Breathing. Heart rate. I was curious if he felt it in a more magical sense, too, but my knowledge of basilisks told me it was all physical for them.
“I don’t understand your fear,” he said, throwing out the casual comment as I pulled myself back from the edge.
Neither did I. Therapy hadn’t helped with the fear itself, only ways to manage my reactions. Not all ghosts were vengeful, and Zan was flat out adorable, but my brain was having trouble working past my instinctual reaction.
