Page 202 of A Courage of the Chosen

Eòghann turns to a sobbing Reyne, and she folds him into her chest as his body shudders with the same agony tearing me open.

My forehead drops to Brodie’s, a roar shredding from deep within my chest.

“I’m sorry, Cal.” Elsie winds herself around my mind and my heart, holding me together. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Chapter 60

Callahan

The four of us stay huddled around Brodie’s body for a short while. I keep a grip of him while the rest of my family hug and comfort each other, taking it in turns throwing their arms around me.

I don’t register what they say when they come near as I sit with Brodie. My mind reels that I’ll never hear his voice again. Never get annoyed at a stupid comment, or smother my laughter when his sarcasm breaks the tension. I took his place in my life for granted, assuming he would always be around.

And Rachel . . . a whole other part of me gone forever. I carried so much anger toward her for most of our lives, and when we’d only just started to repair our relationship, she’s snatched away from me. Never again will I get to tell her how much I love her.

Eventually, they all join me on the ground. Elsie nestles into my side, Eòghann on the other, slinging an arm over my shoulder, and Reyne next to him.

We’re each other’s anchors, in a moment that stretches and warps, irrevocably changing something fundamental within all of us.

Our family will never be whole again.

“Apologies for the interruption, Your Majesties,” Hector limps over and Reyne throws herself at him. He catches her with a grunt and lays his cheek on her head.

The outside world filters in. The dying screams of the injured, the calls for healers across our units, and the crackling of magic, keeping evil contained.

There’s still so much for us to do, and I have the energy for none of it.

Hector sees Brodie’s lifeless form in my arms, a deep sadness washing across his face as he looks at me. “He was the bravest of men. He will be honored in the afterlife. I’m sorry for your loss.”

His sobbing daughter continues to cling to him, and he holds her while shifting forward to rest a hand on Eòghann’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, son.”

Eòghann claps a hand over his, and we stay like that for a quiet moment.

“What do we do about . . .?” Hector’s eyes trail to the massive dome still holding the Brollachan at bay, and I don’t fail to notice the way he warily inspects the darkest elements of Elsie’s magic.

“What’s done can’t be reversed.” Elsie says it heavily, as though she’s learned some truth that she’s yet to share.

Two healers arrive at the same time she turns her attention to me. “Let’s finish this together, Callahan.”

Elsie offers me her hand, and I carefully slide from underneath Brodie, telling the healers I want him returned to the palace. They promise to clean him up, and prepare him for the journey home.

Home is where the heart is.

Màiri said that to me once and it struck a chord in me, because I felt empty, compared to the way she softened with the phrase.

I didn’t know what she meant then.

Rach was Brodie’s home. He was hers.

They will have their pyres together, and understanding is reflected in my wife’s weary eyes as I issue the command.

My home, that’s what Elsie is, and Màiri’s words are no longer a concept. They’re etched into my soul, along with a piece of Elsie that I’ll treasure in this life and the next.

I wipe Brodie’s blood off my hands and reach for the Craobh Beatha in my pocket. Elsie folds my fingers around it when I offer it to her. “We can both channel from it. We’ll need a lot of power to bring all of their suffering to an end.”

I hate the way her shoulders slump, and wish with every fiber of my being that I could somehow shelter her from what we need to do. But it will take both of our light, and my wife, my entire heart, is stronger than anyone I’ve ever met.

We will weather this together. Our grief. The burden of what comes now. Ruling a kingdom healing after war. All of it.