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DaiSzek gallops through tall grass, breezing through a gorgeous plain of mountains, wisteria, tall evergreen trees, and lilac flowers by the dozens.
The sun is beaming down on us, mixing waves of heat with the blustering wind. His strides slow down as he drops me off near the center. I hop off, looking around the meadow, waiting to see his face.
“Do you want to talk about it?” the young boy calls behind me. Young Kane jogs through the tall grass with a gentle smile on his face.
But I can’t bring myself to smile back. It’s the first time after all of this that I can finally talk to him, and he can hear me. He can respond.
“A lot’s happened,” I murmur.
“I see.” He signals for me to sit down with him. “I bought you more lavender. For stress.” His small hand reaches out to hand me the bundle of herbs. I push down the knot of emotion lodging in my throat.
I breathe in the herbs. “You left me.” My words crumple at my feet. And I avoid his dark eyes, looking at the purple wisteria.
“Did I?”
I nod.
“I’m sorry, Skylittle,” he mutters.
I frown deeply. That nickname burrows into my heart.
“I haven’t—” My words get stuck, so I swallow and try again. “I haven’t been taking it well. In fact, I’ve been turning into something else. Something cold and dark.”
Kane picks at the grass, twisting it in his fingers.
“Being back at the asylum makes me feel closer to you somehow. Makes me understand you a little better, I think.” I shake my head. “But I’m so angry all the time. So mad. Sohurt.”
Kane’s quiet for a minute. “How did I die?”
I look away.Christ, can I even talk about this with him without having another meltdown?
“It was my fault.” The sentence comes out heavy and wobbly in my throat.
“Skylenna…” He waits until I look at him. “How did I die?”
“You were—it was a sickle. You were—” I breathe out loudly, struggling to take in a steady breath. “It was a battle by the ocean—it happened so fast. We were—there were babies, and you—”
“I was stabbed,” he finishes for me.
It takes everything in me not to cry.
“And you saw it happen?”
My head moves an inch, his only indication that I mean to nod.
His throat bobs. “I wish you didn’t have to be there. I’ve only ever wanted to protect you, Skylittle.”
“I know.”
“Did you get to say goodbye?”
“Yes.” I don’t even remember what I said. I don’t want to remember. “You died—in my arms, Kane.”
He stares at me for a long moment. And there is so much he wants to say. So much he’s been waiting to tell me.
“Was I buried by my family?” he asks.
“Mm-hmm.”
