Page 101 of In Your Light

FYN

Fyn was confused at first.

What did Salem mean? How could that be his mother?

The woman stared at Salem in disbelief, every emotion clear on her face, before she burst into tears. “My boy,” she sobbed.

Salem rushed to her, and they embraced, both of them crying.

The godlings clung to Aurin, upset at seeing their pappa cry. Aurin was crying too. He went to Salem, and the woman noticed the godlings then. Her wide eyes landed on Salem, and he nodded. She burst into fresh tears as she hugged them all, touching their faces and Salem’s as if she couldn’t believe this was real.

Everyone else was stunned. Except for Cern, of course.

He beamed and took the pipe from his mouth. “Love a family reunion,” he said proudly. “Took some lookin’, but I finally found her.”

“She’s not dead,” someone said.

They all rushed over to greet her, but not Hadeom.

He took a step back, pale and with a horror in his eyes that Fyn had seen there before.

He grabbed Hadeom’s hand. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Stay with me,” Fyn whispered.

Hadeom’s eyes met his. “I... I didn’t...”

Then Cern was there, larger than seemed possible, and he put his hand on Hadeom’s shoulder. “You didn’t. She escaped. Injured, but alive.”

Hadeom blinked rapidly, and Fyn wondered if Cern was talking to him with his mind. When Hadeom nodded, he was sure of it.

“You’ve sent many to the otherworld, my old friend,” Cern said. “But not this one. The scales tip in your favour, yes?”

Hadeom sucked back a breath as if he’d forgotten how, and he shook his head. “But⁠—”

“But nothing,” Cern said, his voice all-powerful. “You’ve walked your path.”

“They’ll never forgive me,” Hadeom whispered.

“They cannot forgive what they don’t understand,” Cern said. His voice seemed to echo off distant walls, reverberating with truth.

Gospel.

Then Cern waved his hand dismissively. He pointed his pipe at Salem’s mother before he stuck it back in his mouth. “I explained everything. Told her in order to see her boy, she’d need to forgive you.”

Hadeom shook his head again. “No more tallies.”

“There are always tallies. The ledger of life never balances evenly. You, out of all of us, know that best.”

Hadeom bowed his head, and Fyn couldn’t help but pull him in close, holding him tight, and Hadeom melted into him. His shadows flurried and flocked together, creeping over Fyn, around him, as if Hadeom needed to touch every part of him, before they sank back into Hadeom. He sighed, heavy against Fyn.

“Ah, my Fyn,” Cern said with a smile. “Just what he needed, yes?”

Fyn nodded. “What I needed as well.”

“Of course,” Cern said with a gleam in his eyes that told Fyn this was his plan all along. “But now is not the time for rest,” Cern said. He was quiet then, his eyes on Hadeom, his brow pinched.

Hadeom’s head shot up and he stared at Cern. “Yes,” Hadeom said fervently, almost a plea. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Fyn asked.