He wasn’t as convinced of his words as he sounded. Taking a step back was hard for him after all these years at the forefront, but he was right. Our contribution from now on was to guard the entire world. There were no days off or vacations. No one would begrudge us if we stepped aside for a short time.
“Agreed.” I pulled him to a stop. “After forty years of separation, we deserve time to figure out what being together looks like.”
“Let’s go home, my firebird.”
He hugged me, and his joy filled me. It swirled around, joined with mine, and flowed back into him. The pain of sacrifices made would take time to heal, but we no longer had to fight off the soul-draining sadness of being apart.
The world gave us back so much more than it asked. We finally had each other and the promise of all the days to come stretching before us. “I already am.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Roderick:
“...their sacrifices will be remembered for generations to come.”
Dad’s voice carried across the frost-covered grounds of Utrecht Academy. His breath formed small clouds that dissipated into the pale morning sunlight as he stood before the newly erected memorial. This was the last of the memorials for all the beings lost. Mages had the highest losses, a fact the other races acknowledged this time. It would’ve been a lot higher if Malachy, Elspeth, Cinaed, and the guards hadn’t been there to help.
I stood among the mourners, thankful for those close to me who survived. Grandpa Hollen nearly died taking on three mages to defend a wounded inquisitor. He won, but it had taken everything he had. When Malachy arrived, Grandma had already resigned herself to the fact that he wouldn’t make it. The grateful woman sat next to him in the crowd.
Cinaed sat next to me, his shoulder pressed against mine. In the sea of formal black attire, his copper hair stood out. I mightbe biased, but he was so beautiful, he’d have made an impression even if he wore a hat. Heat radiated from his naturally warm body, creating a tiny pocket of warmth in the February chill. Through our connection, I felt his sorrow mingling with my own, a shared ache for those who hadn’t returned.
The stone monument gleamed with a thin sheen of ice. Names etched with magic spiraled around the surface, in a pattern that would glow with mage fire each night until dawn. Twenty-seven names. Most had fallen to demons at locations other than the three primary medicine wheels. Out of necessity, we’d sent our most powerful mages to the sites where Blackstone’s dark magic had been strongest.
It didn’t make it right, but we’d tried our best.
“In their honor, we establish this eternal flame.” Dad’s stone flared, and a golden fire sprang to life around the base of the monument. “May it burn as brightly as their courage.”
Cinaed’s grip tightened on mine. Through our bond, I felt his thoughts drifting to his grandfather and the ultimate sacrifice he’d made. Ailpein had his own marker inside the phoenix castle courtyard. His service had been first. At King Malachy’s request, Cinaed and I shaped the obelisk with fire and magic.
Every race held a commemoration for their fallen. Cinaed and I, along with all the other guardians, attended every one. Those beings needed to see we didn’t count their sacrifices as any less than ours. It was also the right thing to do. Linked to the Earth, we felt the loss on a deeper level.
“He would be proud we didn’t waste his gift,”I said through our link. Cinaed’s smile felt sad, but grateful.
The speeches ended, and representatives from each species placed a flower in front of the flames. I scanned the crowd, noting the faces of those who’d survived. Aunt Gretchen sat with Mom. She’d barely recovered from her injuries, but had attended to honor friends who had died.
Surprisingly, none of the faculty or staff of the university or high school had joined Blackstone. Clearly, the schools had chosen their teachers wisely.
The crowd dispersed in small groups, their voices hushed out of respect. Cinaed and I remained in front of the memorial. This being the last ceremony, it felt like the war was finally over. Soon we could enjoy the freedom all the sacrifices had bought.
“It’s strange how close we came to your name being on the stone,” Cinaed said softly. “Seeing the families of those who didn’t survive gives me a different outlook on life.”
I nodded, sharing the sense of awe I felt standing here when we’d been so certain we wouldn’t survive. The weight of Ailpein’s sacrifice pressed against my chest like a physical thing.
“Come on,” I said finally. “The others will be waiting for us to start the meeting.”
Walking across campus, I took in the familiar sights of Utrecht Academy. So much felt the same as when I was a student here for those few short years. But it had also changed in subtle ways since Blackstone’s defeat. The fond memories of friendships and carefree days were still there, but the shadow of the man who led the school had forever tainted those moments.
New wards guarded the grounds, procedures updated, and trusts shattered. There was also a lighter feeling, as if the place breathed more freely now.
Darius’s appointment as dean of the University had brought changes. Where Blackstone had been a towering figure in academia, Darius was a legend come to life. He brought a gravitas no one else could match. More importantly, he maintained trust in the institution that Blackstone’s betrayal threatened to destroy. They’d also removed Blackstone’s portrait and replaced it with a painting of Katarina and Adelais. A gift from King Malachy and his family.
We passed students hurrying between classes, their faces bright with youth and purpose. I’d turned off the anonymity spell for the service, and a few of the kids recognized us. Some pointed, others waved, and a few said thank you. Neither of us were comfortable with hero worship, but most days we were invisible, so we didn’t get it often.
“I hope this meeting doesn’t run long,” Cinaed said as we turned down the corridor leading to the administrative wing. “Father wants a full report, and you know my focus wavers after too many speeches.”
I smiled and squeezed his hand once. “Translation, you’re going to be thinking about the rose garden we’re planning and which of your mother’s plants you want clippings from.”
“All of them, of course.” He pulled our hands to his lips for a kiss. “Yes, but that will only happen if this gets to be a long, boring meeting.”
