“We will tell the patrol it was the rot that took him,” she says, voice as practical as flint.“It won’t be the first time they’ve heard it today.”
“You’ll help?”My voice pitches an octave higher than usual, tight with surprise.
She gives a determined nod, as if I’m silly to question her.I almost sob at the relief of knowing I won’t be alone when I say my final goodbye.
I follow her out to the front of the shop, as she drapes the shawl around her shoulders and removes her apron, dumping it next to her pestle and mortar.
She steps behind the counter and collects a well-worn bag that looks heavy with supplies.
“I’ll take that Yara.”I step forward, closing the distance between us before she can protest.
“It’s okay child, you can take it from me later.”
She hoists the bag over her shoulder, the weight of it causing her to dip to one side, and heads for the door.
The cold night air drifts into the warmth of the shop, as reality hits me like an icy wave.
My shadows slither outside first, sticking tight to the tiny crevices that litter the walls.Yara steps through, her nose raised into the night air, sniffing for danger.
“Let’s go,” she whispers.
As I slide past her, I hear the soft, definitive snick as she secures the lock, closing the comfort behind.
I grab Yara’s arm, hooking my own within hers as we tuck our heads in close, a seemingly innocent mother and daughter walking the streets at night with the exception of shadows leading the way, instead of trailing behind.
7
SEREN
Every shadow feels like a gaze, every step a listening ear.
The Hollow watches from its doorways as we move through the lanes side by side, silent and judging.The familiar steps leading to Sylas come into view, the pit within me yawning wider with every step we climb.
The door is still closed.Death remains waiting.
My dirt-bitten hand pushes it open as the wood creaks on its hinges, the scent already turning sour as the smoke and damp is now tinged with a hint of decay.
Yara shoulders past me, her steps careful and precise.Her hand guides her through the darkness until it lands on the edge of the bed frame, fingers trailing the covers until she reaches Sylas’ face.
She cups his cheek in her hand with a kindness that makes my chest ache.“My dear boy,” she begins.“I have seen you in life—as short as it has been—and now, I see you in death.Be at one with the gods, my child.”Her hand brushes over his eyes, closing them with a finality that is a mercy my own hands couldn’t find.
Every breath is a struggle against the weight of his absence.My jaw clenches, biting down the scream that threatens to tear from my throat as the sharp, cool slide of a lone tear makes its way down my face.
Yara straightens the blanket, and smooths Sylas’ hair until he’s lying in a final, quiet repose.She steps back, the silence in the room thick and complete as we both stare at the shell of someone we once knew.Peace lines his features, imprinting his final resting state to my memory so that I never forget that I’m the one who brought this silence upon him.
“I’ll fetch them,” Yara says, her words a mere whisper in the roar of silence.
“I should—” My voice dies, cracking under the pressure of what must be done.
She turns to face me, her usual gaze that’s soft and unfocused, remains fixed, like clouds frozen in a cerulean sky.
“My dear, people will be looking for you.It’s best you stay hidden.Let me help you.”She pats my arm as she shuffles out of the door.
I’m frozen in place, sheer terror gripping me to the floor as I’m left alone with him.Memories of what happened flash into view.My heart calls for him, but the guilt writhing inside of my brain echoes one word:
Monster.
The shadows creep over the edge of the bed, leaning in as if eager to witness the scene of their making.
