“Yes. Terribly.”
“What is that like? Terrible missing?”
“It’s always with you. It never leaves you.” It’s what I feel for Gideon, too. “Haven’t you ever felt that?”
“Not for a person. I feel it for my wings.”
I nod, understanding. That’s what I saw on his face earlier, exactly. Terrible missing.
We sit in comfortable silence for a moment.
Rayna returns with the now-empty pot. Torin, as usual, trails behind her. “Torin, the pie’s going to burn. The pie, the pie, the pie,” she says.
“He hears better when you say things in threes,” Rael says dryly.
“I do not, Rael,” Torin says. He hustles past Rayna to take the pie plate out of the wood-burning oven. It’s not burnt. The crust looks golden and crispy.
Rayne slices portions of the chicken pie for us with industrious movements. Everything is a task here. Something to be done that needs to be done again the next day. I’m starting to see why Rael and Bas became so close. Bas, with all his fun and stories, would’ve provided sorely needed levity.
Steam breaks through the crust of the pie, and the aromas in the kitchen become even more mouthwatering.
As Rael and I eat, Rayna continues to whirl around the kitchen, prepping tomorrow’s meals and ordering Torin around.
Rael smiles at me across the table. “Dinner and entertainment,” he says.
“I like it, like it, like it,” I say.
He grins. “You would have loved Sebastian’s take on them.”
“I was just thinking about that. And I will love it. I’ll ask him about it when I see him again.”
Rael nods. “You should.” His gaze drops to his food, the unspoken question looming loudly between us.
Will he see Bas again?
I feel my face warm, and my stomach tightens. I set my fork down, the significance of my role hitting me again.
Is he forgivable?
If I’m going to do this, I need to understand better. I need to know more.
I wait until Rayna and Torin excuse themselves for the night. With them gone, the kitchen feels especially quiet. Rael slides his plate away. His expression goes from content to prepared, like he knows what’s coming. I feel it, too. Like I’m rolling up my sleeves and getting down to work.
“What made you decide to change?” I ask. “Besides curiosity over Bas?”
He doesn’t reply for a long moment. “Do you mind if we walk? I could use some air.”
“Great idea.” I could use some air, too.
We leave through the garden door and take the path toward the stables. The cool air holds the smell of freshly turned soil. There’s no storm tonight or even any clouds, just stars.
The quiet woods surrounding Gray Fort.
Harrows.
And Gideon—and Riot.
We walk in silence for a while. Again, I notice how easy it is to be with him. That has to count for something. Gut feeling.
Suddenly, I see a vivid image of Gideon’s left arm in my mind. The neat scars on his strong wrist that I kissed not too long ago.
Rael did that.
No. Samrael did that.
And he’s done much worse to other people.
Do I ask him how many people he’s killed?
Does it matter?
I saw several with my own eyes in the fall—isn’t knowing that much enough?
“I suppose regret is a good place to begin,” Rael says, interrupting my anxiety spiral. He slips his hands into his pocket, and our pace slows. We’re near the stables now. The paddock, which reminds me of Shadow. “Time feels like it stands still here—maybe you haven’t felt that yet. It took a few weeks before I truly felt like I was stuck. Cursed to repeat virtually the same day over and over. This…” He waves a hand. “It’s not for me.
“I began to feel like I was mired in time, unable to take a step forward. No future ahead. So, I began to look at my past. I considered how I’d spent my days. All my thousands upon thousands of days. I thought about every one of them. Earnestly. I considered my insatiable appetite for power. My service to Ra’om. My lack of regard for life or consequence, and … I was sickened by myself. This place held a mirror to me and I did not like what I saw.”
“So you want to change the man in the mirror.”
He smiles. “Yes.”
“How?”
“How?”
“Yes. How are you going to change? If you leave here what are you going to do? What do you want from a fresh start?”
“I … I think…” He looks lost. He looks like he’s genuinely never been asked that question in his entire immortal life. “You ask hard questions.”
“You’re asking a lot of me.”
“Yes. I am.” He draws a deep breath, looking up at the stars. “I think I’d seek what you have.” He looks at me. “I know I would.”
“What do I have that you want?”
“The thing that binds you to friends. The thing that calls you home to your family. That’s kept you here, strong, hopeful, and determined.”
Easy answer. “You mean love.”
“Not just love. Love that is greater.”
“Greater than?”
“All else.”
CHAPTER 38
GIDEON
“Is it night yet?” I ask the man who brings me a bowl of watered-down broth. I’m starving. I’m not getting enough food that I can keep down. Rifters don’t understand celiac disease.
“Soon,” he answers. “An hour or so.”
Cotton is gone.
Torin has taken his place.
Torin is human, which should be an upgrade, but Cotton had tons more personality than this guy, who shuffles away without another word, disappearing around a corner.
The past few nights have been brutal. No visits from Samrael. No idea how Daryn is doing.
“At least I’ve got you,” I say, meeting Riot’s amber eyes.
Always, Gideon. But I’m ready to get out of here. I’m angry that you’re here.
He’s showing it, too. His new thing as of a few hours ago has been striking his big hooves against the bars. He sends up sparks when he does it, and the clanging sound is so loud, it’s almost blinding.
I rub the raw skin under the manacle on my right hand, pick up the bowl, and drink my dinner.
I’ve just finished the soup when Samrael comes around the corner.
He stands before my cell, slips his hands into his pockets, and regards me with his emotionless eyes. Behind him, Riot snorts and swipes a hoof, smacking it against the bars.
Samrael cuts a dark look his way.
“I trust you’re healing? Feeling better?” he asks.
My leg is better. I can stand now, like Riot, but not for long. And it’s still painful. I’ve got another day to go at least before I’m back in fighting shape.
“You look like you could use more food,” Samrael says after a pause, carrying the conversation without me. “I’ll talk to Torin about it.”
More silence that I don’t fill. I’m not happy with the meal plan here. But I’m not thanking him for looking into it.