Page 100 of The Moon Blessed King
‘It’s not on me. You can’t…you can’t say that that’s my fault.’
Elician wants to take this boy and shake him until reason enters his mind, until the totality of his actions slips past denial and enters into full understanding. He wants to strike his face and shock the sense into him. But Alest wouldn’t approve of that. ‘Hecansay it, and he did,’ Elician snaps. ‘Because this is your burden to bear. You wanted a city dead, and now you have one. Your own people. The ones you were so desperate to protect and be loved by. You killed them. And now you mustlivewith it.’
Gillage throws himself at Alest then, bare hands reaching for Alest’s face. Alest catches his hands with his gloved fingers before they make contact. He holds his jerking and desperate wrists, gasping as the boy shouts and flails and screams, ‘I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! Why couldn’t you just let me die?’
Elician catches him by the waist and throws him back. Gillage crashes to the ground, sobbing loudly, hands pressed to his face. ‘I’m sorry,’ Alest whispers. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Everything would have been fine if you had just stayed in yourcell like you were supposed to!’ Gillage shouts. ‘If you had just died and—’
‘We should go,’ Elician says. He takes Alest by the arm, but Alest doesn’t let Elician lead him away. He steps past his husband, kneeling at Gillage’s side.
‘You have so much to make up for,’ Alest tells the boy. ‘But I believe you will.’
‘Why would you believe that?Howcan you possibly believe that?’
‘Because you have our mother’s determination. And she would have been proud to see you make it right.’
‘I don’t care what she thinks.’
‘Yes,’ Alest murmurs. ‘You do.’
Finally, Alest nods to Elician and makes for the door. It has not come a moment too soon. ‘Elician,’ Gillage calls just before they leave. He turns. The boy rubs his still damp cheeks.
‘KingElician,’ he corrects.
‘King,’ Gillage bites back. ‘Your uncle was buried in a pauper’s grave.’ Elician commits this boy’s face to memory. He burns the sunken eyes and sharp cheeks into his mind. His husband has a soft heart, but Elician is not nearly so forgiving. He ensures that there will never be a moment in his life where he forgets the cruelty and madness of this child. ‘With,’ Gillage goes on, somewhat more subdued, ‘what was left of that woman you cared for.’ He says the rest to his brother.
Alest freezes at the words, trapped in place and memory.Brielle.Her body.
‘Thank you,’ Alest says. ‘Goodbye, Gillage.’
They leave without another word exchanged. The pace they keep is brisk and sharp, walking down stairs and twisting about corners. Elician realizes some of their journey is even familiar. ‘This is how Morsen helped me escape – we went through here,’ he murmurs. Alest doesn’t reply. He keeps going, faster and faster until he is right at the edge of running. He doesn’t make the final transitionbut continues to move swiftly until they reach a door that leads outside.
Elician breathes in the crisp morning air as it slices across his lungs. He looks out at the massive graveyard that had been his only source of relief in this city. There are no fresh plots. Elician casts his mind into the dirt and feels nothing but bones. There are no souls here. Elician recognizes certain markers though. He walks slowly and quietly, at odds with their rush to arrive. Alest trails at his side, eyes going from plot to plot as if he can see the very place where their family has been cast.
They stop over one strip of dirt. ‘It’s where they put Lio when they killed him,’ Elician murmurs. ‘He dug himself out of this grave, delirious and weak.’
‘There’s no one left to bring back here.’
‘No,’ Elician agrees. ‘The water’s moved on.’ He kneels before the patch anyway. His hand sinks into the dirt. His eyes close. He cannot identify one body from another. Some have been stacked up and some are solitary, but there is no way to sift through the bones of this place and know who is who. ‘I knew they would kill him,’ Elician says. ‘Laure even said so. And yet…’ Only Brielle’s head was given to them, and perhaps there had been the smallest bit of hope that maybe that meant Gillage wanted to keep torturing Anslian. He hadn’t dwelled on it, but knowing Anslian’s body has been interred in a place he can never hope to identify feels like hearing he is truly dead again for the first time.
‘It’s better that they are gone, truly, than to have been hurt all this time on our behalf,’ Alest whispers. ‘It’s the only decent thing I think Gillage has ever done.’
‘Funny how death can be a peace, isn’t it?’ Elician says in turn. He scoops up a handful of the dark dirt. He lets it drain from his palm. ‘Anslian wanted to be with my father and Adalei’s mother. He wanted to die, in the end.’
‘I hope he has a good life in his next form,’ Alest offers.
‘Brielle too,’ Elician adds.
‘Brielle too.’ Alest’s head angles downwards. He breathes in slowly and lets it out. Elician stands, tossing the last bit of dirt in his hand back onto the patch. He wipes his palm off onto his knee.
‘Death’s plague…it started because of resurrection. And yet…you brought Gillage back.’
‘Yes,’ Alest agrees. ‘I did.’
‘Why? When there could be consequences?’
‘There are always consequences. Every action inspires a reaction. He tried to kill me; that is why he died. I brought him back because I forgave him. And because, before he becomes something new – he must learn what it means to be alive.Thatis what Death wants. And so she allowed him to return.’
