They’ve always been here. They’ve always been by my side.
But it isn’t until this moment that I truly notice them.
Carver and Nollix might be the only two people on the planet who care if I live or die tonight.
By tomorrow morning, the kingdom will know if we succeeded or not. By tomorrow morning, there may not be a king to rule the kingdom.
Despite the size of my large family, no one knows my father better than I do. No one else spent their life on the outskirts of the family looking in. I spent my childhood watching him and, sadly, wishing he’d notice me for something other than my magic.
It wasn’t until I was older that I stopped clinging to the scrap of hope that he’d love me more than he loved himself. That he’d show me some fraction of affection.
He never did. But it didn’t stop me from watching him.
All my life, I’ve watched him. Studied him. Hated him.
It’s suddenly paying off.
“Are you sure this is where he is?” Carver shifts at my side, his shoulder brushing lightly against mine.
It took far too long for us to travel here. My father’s favorite place is hours out of town. The day was wasted away just getting here.
“I’m just now getting the vibe that this man might actually be raising an army of the dead. This could only be less creepy if your father liked to hang out in the underworld itself.” Nollix’s attention moves slowly over the cemetery.
The grave markers are worn down by time. White stones peek out every seven feet or so in haphazard lines that trail across the land. The graves are barely more than dust at this point, but they stand with a minimal amount of pride against the cruel winds.
There, on the far side, where the dawn would meet the horizon, is where I know my father is. A building sits wide and disruptive among the quiet headstones. It towers into the dark night sky. A rusting and warped bell is unmoving at the top. It must have been gleaming and beautiful at one time. Hundreds of years ago, it must have been a masterpiece at the center of this place of mourning.
Now it’s all but forgotten. Along with the dead who keep it company.
But one man clung to this solitude. As a family, we’d come here once a year to place beautiful, billowing flowers on my grandparents’ graves. I never knew the exact number of times my father came here alone, but every time there was a crisis, every time our neighboring kingdoms threatened war, every time one of the queens set him on edge, my father would come here to figure it all out.
And when he returned, everything suddenly made sense to him. The answers were all crystal clear.
“He’s here.” I take a single step toward the ominous bell tower.
Nollix’s hand clasps around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. The warm feel of his hand against mine makes me realize how cold I am. Goosebumps rise against my skin, and I stare at them for several long seconds.
“Why?” Nollix’s gaze shifts around the darkness, seemingly trying to find something within it.
“Why what?” I cock my head to the side as I look up at his intense eyes.
“Why the fuck is your father in a graveyard, Violence?”
A pause drifts between us as I consider his question.
“He—I—I don’t know. He just always came here to think when I was a child. My mother called it his place of peace.”
“Place of peace.” Cameron echoes the words. “That sounds creepy as hell.”
Long, draping tree limbs blow in the breeze, sweeping over the cracking concrete with an eerie sound.
“What is it he does here in his place of peace?” Carver also watches the darkness, his spine stiffening with tension.
“I have no idea.” Moments pass, and I realize Nollix is still holding my wrist. His thumb is gently caressing my skin as we wait for our plan to fall into place. It’s as if he doesn’t realize he’s touching me at all, but I’m all too aware of it.
“Let’s tread carefully, Vi. Point the way.” Nollix peers down at me to find I’m staring at our hands between us.
Sometimes the emptiness of my mind sets in at the most inopportune times. I get lost in my thoughts, and then my thoughts themselves get lost.
