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“We should still plant them.” He said softly, “In her memory.” If I had any tears left to give, I would have. I nodded, and he leaned over, picking up the sack of seeds and putting them in his pocket.
“We’ll plant them for her back at court.” He told me, “So you can be there to help them grow.” Looking at him, kneeling before me, with so much concern on his face, I wondered how I had ever feared him, or thought him to be evil.
“Thank you.” I whispered, he nodded.
“Are you still feeling up for this mission?” He asked. “If you don’t think you can bear it, we will figure something out.”
I contemplated it for a brief moment. I thought I would rather curl up into a ball and hide from the light, than go to see the Sorcerer General.
I then thought of Kasha, who had been forced to serve in Ash Nevra’s sex trade. I thought of the countless others, who were enslaved by her, and being forced to live lives that they did not deserve. I thought of Dossidian, and Amon, being forced to murder and kill in Ash Nevra’s name for over two centuries.
Finally, I thought of Clair and Jeremy, and how Ash Nevra had destroyed my family, and taken everything from me that I had ever loved. Clair had died saving me, so that I might bring balance back to this world, and the one beyond The Veil. If I failed, she would have died for nothing. Jeremy’s pain would be for nothing.
“No.” I said. “I have to go. I have to do this.” Amon dipped his head in understanding, a small, sad smile blooming on his lips. He rubbed his thumb over my cheek again, as our shadows gathered around us, to take us back to our friends.
“You are so brave, Raven,” he whispered, as we dissolved into the summer night.
22
We arrived back at the Abbey house, and I called in to Conrad to let Amon in through the wards. We walked into the house to find Meredith, Mr. Abbey and Patricia waiting in the comfortable, warmly lit living room. Patricia was in a wheelchair, with a knit blanket draped over her knees.
The old Obeah Woman looked up as we walked in, critically examining Amon from where he lurked in the hallway, his black collared shirt and slacks blending into the shadows.
“Hail daemon Prince,” she greeted him. “Long time wi nuh talk: a few years since wi laas speak, don’t it?” She turned her gaze to me and smiled. “And yuh, child. Mi glad tuh see yuh healthy an safe. Last time mi see yuh, yuh did a suffer.”
I came forward, and took her hand gently in mine, smiling down at her.
“It is so nice to finally meet you, Ms. Brown,” I said, warmly. “Conrad has told me so much about you. I don’t know what I would have done without him through all of this. Thank you for sending him to find me.” Conrad smiled at me from where he stood next to Mr. Abbey. Patricia eyed me, glancing back and forth between Amon and I.
“Conrad a waann good boy.” She agreed, patting my hand, before setting her sights on Amon.
“Yuh an dis young uhman mates yuh kno dat, daemon?” Her patois was much stronger than Conrad’s, I couldn’t understand what she was saying. Amon regarded her carefully. To my surprise, he responded in fluent patois, from where he leaned against the frame of the entrance to the living room.
“Yea mi ave known fi a lang time shi nuh kno though, nuh yet.” Amon’s use of patois startled me. Conrad and Patricia’s use of the dialect seemed smooth and fluid, almost musical. Amon’s was slightly different. It still sounded lovely, but even to my untrained ear, I could tell he had an accent.
Patricia made a face at his response and waved her hand at him gruffly. Conrad was staring at Amon with a strange look on his face. Patricia scolded the Dark Prince as if he were an unruly child.
“Yuh betta let dat likkle scotch bonnet kno soon before sum'ady else snatch har up.”
I looked back at Amon, not following. He smiled at Patricia and nodded.
“Mi plan tuh tell har soon.” He replied.
“I didn’t know you spoke patois,” I remarked. Conrad was still staring at Amon with that strange look on his face.
“Me neitha,” Conrad said. Amon shrugged the shoulder that wasn’t pressed against the wall.
“I speak many languages.”
“Sorry to interrupt, but are we ready to go?” Mr. Abbey asked brusquely. I nodded.
“Yes, where exactly is it that we’re going?” I asked.
“The Dolomites.” Mr. Abbey responded. “In Italy. At the Casa delle Nuvole.”
“Ah, the House of Clouds,” Amon straightened, running a hand through his hair. “Raven, if you would be so kind as to take Walter and Meredith. I can take Conrad and Patricia.”
I hesitated. Shadow walking to my house was one thing. Shadow walking to Italy… I wasn’t sure I could do it. Amon pressed a vision of our destination into my mind. It was an angular chalet, built in the valley between two enormous mountains.
