Because sooner or later, they had to finish that fight.
Just be careful.
Aodhan bit back the words that wanted to escape. Failed. I was planning to take every dangerous risk possible, but you’ve made me think better of it. He wanted to kick a wall the instant the words were out. Why had he just said that? He wasn’t like this with anyone else.
A pause, before Illium said, You know what? Why don’t you come stand out here, while I go into the house with THE SKINNED PELTS OF MORTALS and then we’ll talk about why you’re snapping at me for behaving normally.
Aodhan closed his eyes, took a second, opened them again. You’re right. You be careful, too. I think this house is empty—which means the danger is outside. And now that he’d put it into words, his skin prickled with the urge to get out there, shield Illium from harm.
I have a fierce kitten protector, was the outwardly insouciant response. She’ll keep me safe with the power of her ferocious meow.
Blue.
I’ve got my sword out. Happy now?
Yes.
Exactly. Don’t get all sarcastic with me for worrying about you.
Having reached the next room down the hall—on the opposite side and just offset from the living area—Aodhan didn’t reply in favor of keeping all his attention on what he was seeing.
It wasn’t much. The room held a single bed, the mattress covered by a handmade quilt soft with age. The scents of talcum powder and a faint sweet perfume permeated the space. His mind flickered with the memory of Demarco’s grandmother. The trim older woman had dropped by Guild HQ while Aodhan was there one day, having brought her grandson a “birthday treat.”
Demarco had grinned, lifted her up off her feet, and swung her around. “Thanks, Gams,” he’d said after she slapped at his shoulder and told him to put her down. Then she’d smiled and kissed his cheeks.
A look at the brush on the small table placed in front of an old mirror confirmed his guess that this was the grandmother’s bedroom—caught in the bristles were a number of gray hairs. The black-and-white photograph of the man he’d assumed to be her deceased husband sealed the deal—it sat on the bedside table, where she’d have seen it each night as she went to sleep.
Next to it was a lopsided clay mug as might be made by a child. A gift from grandson to grandmother. A cherished one, for in that mug were handcrafted cloth flowers with green wire stems.
“I’m sorry,” he found himself murmuring, though none of these people would ever again hear him.
This family was forever broken.
30
Yesterday
“Mother?”
“Oh, my baby boy, do be polite.” Illium’s mother’s face was serene, her eyes a joyful sparkle. “Can’t you see we have a guest?”
Illium glanced at the empty armchair of champagne-colored velvet that faced his mother’s seat. His heart hurt. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s no matter.” She held out a hand, and when he placed his in it, she tugged him to stand beside her. “See how strong and tall he’s become?” she said to her invisible guest. “Aegaeon will be so proud when he wakes and sees the man his son’s grown into.”
Rage threatened to burn Illium’s irises, but he kept his expression even. This wasn’t his mother’s fault. All she’d ever done was love him. Even now, when her mind was shattered glass that reflected everything and nothing, when she forgot herself much of the time, she didn’t forget him or how much she loved him.
Always when he came home, she’d say, “My son,” or “Baby boy” and hold him.
No, this was no fault of hers. It was Aegaeon who’d broken their family.
“Illium,” his mother said now, “have you met Raan?”
“Isn’t that . . .” He stopped himself just in time. Raan was the man his mother had loved a long, long, long time ago.
Raan was also dead.
He only knew the latter because his mother had been talking to herself one day, and he’d put together what she’d said with her visit to a memorial long forgotten by most of angelkind.
Recovering quickly, he bowed. “I’m honored to meet such a great artist.”
Sharine patted his hand when he rose back up, her eyes aglow with pride. “Raan taught me to paint, taught me to fly.” She cocked her head, listened. “Oh yes, so much has changed.”
A softness to her as she turned her face to the empty armchair. “We were beautiful once, my Raan. But our time has passed. Now it is the time of my son.” She smiled up at Illium. “He has fallen in love, you know.” Mischief in her eyes. “He thinks his mother doesn’t know.”