Page 262 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
Eden,autopianparadisewhere no one aged, gained a cemetery the next day. Us mourners dug ten graves around the stone circle where we’d held my summoning ceremony, and Myrrdin and his clerics conducted ten ascension services. I attended every single one.
I thought Liatris’s service would be the hardest for me, as she and I had become as thick as thieves during my time in Eden. She was a ray of sunshine in that eternal dusk, always the optimist despite her life’s sadness and perils. And she was, hands down, the best mother I’d ever met. Her love for her son had warmed my heart, reminded me why I was going to go to war. I’d miss her.
Still, I didn’t flounder into a puddle of tears during her service. Mainly because of Jet. One glance at his weepy, freckled face kept my shit together. He needed my strength, the security of my arms. Not my tears.
But also because of Imogen, who’d been mothering Jet while I was off playing princess. She’d done such a fine job helping him cope that she’d alleviated a good deal of my sadness. Because I could tell by watching her with him—she’d never entrust the care of her late friend’s son to anyone else but herself. She would stick by that little guy, and she’d ensure he grew up with love in a world so oddly cruel to orphans. And if there were any ludicrous laws preventing her from doing that, you could bet your sweet aunt sally I’d abolish them.
Given the circumstances, I made it through Liatris’s service well.
Morus’s service, however, was a different story. When I first strode upon his furry body all decked out in tropical phosphorescent flowers, his clawed hands folded over his heart, I hadn’t expected to feel like someone had ripped my guts from my body. But I did.
Maybe because Morus represented the juncture of my old life with my new. Maybe because he’d barely known me before he’d joined me on a quest that could’ve killed us both. He was a ride-or-die friend if I’d ever known one. Or maybe it was because he’d saved my life moments before earning that fatal wound. Regardless, I was already bawling when I knelt beside his skeletal frame and touched his wrinkly, monstrous face.
I wanted so badly for him to turn to me with his snaggletooth and black-pit eyes and rasp, “Stop your damned keening. It serves nothing.” But, of course, he didn’t.
Sniveling, I wiped my eyes and pulled my MulBerry out of my leafy tank top. “Thank you for being a phone thief,” I wept over him, clutching the smooth, bumpy plastic in my hands. “And thank you for telling me to fight harder. I’ve never gotten your words—or your voice—out of my head. Now, I hope I never will.”
I kissed my phone’s screen, then tucked it under Morus’s folded hands. “You keep it with your stash for me, okay? I know you have one somewhere. Make sure you give it back, though.” I shuddered into my hand. “Whenever we meet again.”
Respectfully barefoot, I trudged back to the group of mourners circling Morus’s grave. Even though my inner child was blubbering on a metaphorical floor by that point, I’d done a passable job keeping my shit together.
Then Pete took my spot.
I watched my big, hardened harbinger take a knee beside our small, Kobold friend’s body, bow his head into his fist, and begin to cry tears he’d been withholding since we’d found Morus dead where I’d left him on the beach, Sionna whimpering and licking his unresponsive face.
I crumbled right to my knees, blubbering. So did several others. Because it was a devastating thing to watch a man made for bloodshed succumb to sadness.
“Thank you, friend,” Pete finally gulped. “For helping me heal the parts of myself I’d given up for dead. You ken, I’d never have made it fully out of my cage if it weren’t for you and your years of ornery counsel.”
My heart shattered right there in that sand as Pete’s time with Morus played across his face like a movie. I watched their every argument, in-joke, and deep conversation, his lips wriggling from frown to smile.
“Thank you for helping me remember the man I was.” His smile lost ground. “For helping me remember the man Iwantto be. I promise you, Morus, I won’t forget again.”
I crawled over and clenched his massive fist in my hands. I kissed his temple as he drew into me, his wide mouth quivering into a poignant grimace. His brown eyes swam as they searched mine. He husked, “I won’teverforget.”
A hush fell as we knelt there together like the posts of a lean-to. After what felt like an appropriate length, Pete sniffed and straightened. He wiped his nose, coughed, then expelled a heavy breath.
“Better do it now, Shorty,” he croaked, scrunched up his trouser leg, and jostled the thick, smoggy tether about his ankle into visibility.
Because I needed to see it in order to burn it off him.
The others around us gasped in their grieving.
I understood why he wanted to do it right then. Before Myrrdin commended Morus’s spirit to the Isle. If Morus had helped Pete escape his cage, then it was only right that he should bear witness to the breaking of Pete’s final bond.
As I closed my eyes to concentrate on striking sparks in my core, I swore I heard the ghastly laugh of a jubilant Kobold. I smiled, assuring Morus,He’ll never be bound again,then exhaled a long, controlled breath.
A plume of violet fire surged past my fingertips and into reality. It leapt onto Pete’s tether and devoured it, gluttonous for more.
Pete fought a wince as my flames licked his hairy skin, but he didn’t struggle. He fisted his hands and endured until the blaze vanished into smoke and his tether disintegrated into ash. Ash that a balmy breeze swept up and carried off, never to be seen again.
I may have been responsible for that breeze.
Inhaling a cathartic breath like he’d been living in a landfill, and this was his first dose of fresh air for eons, Pete grazed the charred skin around his ankle. He hissed at the burn, then chuckled, as giddy as I’d ever seen him.
Several more tears trickled down my cheeks. “There,” I giggled, hoarse as a bullfrog. “You’re free.”
The others around us chortled, my silly remark helping to express their pent-up grief.
