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“Humility.”
Sionnach is still close enough that heat from his h slides down my neck to the top of my spine. The sensation of my core tightening into a coil renders me silent. I don’t want to want him like this, damn it, but heaven help me, I do.
“He built the finest telescope the world had seen; a monstrous thing called the Leviathan. It showed him galaxies outside this one. Beyond amazing.”
The Veil Sprites and I are hyperaware of how close his body is. I should put distance between us, but I can’t force myself to move away. My voice finds its way out. “That’s a huge accomplishment. Doesn’t he deserve to puff up without being condemned to a soulfall for lack of humility?”
“The earl never got credit for seeing so far into the heavens. A feller named Lowell earned the lion’s share of praise for eyeballing firmaments outside the Milky Way.”
I hold as still as the oaks around me, afraid if I don’t, Sionnach will break our tenuous contact. I may have no future with him, but I will collect these moments together and keep them like Veil Sprites twinkling in my heart. I understand the pull between us is absolutely necessary for the soulfall, even if it’s clear he intends to keep it side-by-side, not hand-in-hand.
Does each beat of a broken heart still count as one whole?
I fuss with the ruffles on the apron’s twisted straps and focus on our next target. “And the earl’s bitterness landed him in a soulfall?” This guy must have been the ultimate poor sport.
“’Twas his right loud huff from beyond the grave, his hauntings. Bad fortune’s been known to befall folks poking around his Leviathan.”
I pinch a ruffle between my fingers. “Wait. He was already dead when Lowell glory-hogged the credit? How can a dead guy lose his virtue?”
Sionnach chews on his lip. “Rosse’s spirit refused to leave the Leviathan. The way Little Harriett was stuck at Charleville Castle. Virtue can be lost because of what’s in the heart of a soul who lingers, not only what leaves the lips during a lifetime.”
I’m glad for the wool servant’s uniform when a chill runs through me at the revelation. A soul who hasn’t achieved their ultimate destination can be condemned to a soulfall via post-death thoughts? This is intense afterlife shit.
“I’ve tried to convince the earl’s spirit that joy is in the accomplishment itself, not recognition, but he won’t break ties with his creation.”
“Wait. If he haunts the telescope, we can connect with him in real time.”
“That would be grand if we could predict when he might honor us with a visit. Most of his hauntings cluster around Samhain, but they’re irregular. Too big a gamble.” He shakes his head. “The best guarantee is to go back to a time just after his natural end when his humility breathed its last.”
I slide the last of my rogue strands under the cap. “All righty then. Let’s do this.” Sionnach laughs, and I swivel to face him. “What?”
He copies my accent. “Let’s do this.” Fanning a hand up and down my uniform, he laughs even harder. “The phrasing don’t exactly match the wrapper.”
I laugh with him. There’s no crime in enjoying the time I have with Sionnach Loho as long as I keep my lapse in emotional judgment in check.
“Are you ready, love?”
I drop my face into my hands, dreading the Veil crossing. “I’m useless. It’s on you to do all the work, yank us through the Veil and keep an eye out for trouble. I’ll be concentrating on not puking on your butler shoes.”
“Stay here.” There’s a ripple in the air, and Sion disappears.
Before my mouth forms words of protest, he’s back. “Where?—”
“I had to check if it’s safe inside.”
“Is it?”
“Nothing but rainbows.” With the grace of a dancer, he twirls me to face the forest and then presses my back against his chest.
The position does not help my resolve to stay rooted in buddy status.
“We’re going to Veil cross right this time. Close your eyes.” He trails his fingers from my right shoulder, down my arm, until he lifts my hand. Slowly, he draws circles in the air with our joined hands. “Keep the touch light. Gentle. Call the Veil to your mind. Stroke its surface. Coax it to let you in. See it as the wall of a bubble. Push too hard and you’ll break it, but wonder at it, and you’ll find a thousand colors of ribbon twisted together.”
A delicate scent of soap bubbles tickles my nose. Sion’s soap bubbles. Beneath my fingertips, I feel a thin membrane like an expanded balloon. It reacts to my touch, curving and giving way as I slide my finger across the Veil wall.
Sionnach’s chin rests in the joint between my shoulder and neck as he whispers. “Give over. Don’t fight. Let your feet leave the ground. The Veil will hold you.”
I gasp as the solid earth beneath my feet disappears, but there’s no fear. My vertigo, my terror of high places, doesn’t take over. Strains of violins layer note over note sweet enough to lull a babe into peaceful sleep. It’s enchanting like so many of my dream flashes, or as I understand them now, those glimpses of the Veil and its possibilities. Sion told me I’d been connected to the mystical edge between worlds my whole life.
