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I watch him do it. He knows exactly where each one goes. “What’s it like?” I ask. “Growing up without her.”
He’s quiet for a moment, his thumb working a patch of moss off the corner of the stone. “I don’t know. You can’t miss something you never had, so I don’t miss her. I just know the shape of where she isn’t.” He flicks the moss away. “It’s the sort of thing you notice in other people’s homes.”
“And with him?”
“Hell.” A beat passes before he laughs. “That’s why I married you.”
It’s a joke, but neither of us laughs. Brushing a few dead leaves off the base, he glances at me. “What about you? Your parents?”
“On the steps of a shelter.” I move a fallen lily back where it should be. “The women there liked telling us that Onyx came in with a blanket and I didn’t. I don’t know if that was ever true.” I straighten the next one. “It wasn’t bad, though. I mean, it wasn’t. We ate. There was a roof. Some of them were decent, and some of them weren’t, and you learn quickly which is which.” I straighten the last flower. “And we had each other. We’ve always had each other.”
“That’s not nothing.”
“No.” I sit back on my heels. “It’s the only thing that’s ever been mine.”
Ash gives the stone one final wipe with the side of his hand, then stands. When he straightens, he holds himself more firmly.
“What about Ryven?”
“We give him some time to be on his own first.” His gaze comes back to mine. “But Dad’s spent twenty-four years deciding what happens to everybody around him. I’m done letting him decide for me.”
“Then don’t.” I push myself up from beside the grave and brush the dirt from my knees. “But Ryven still has three weeks before Sebastian expects him on that platform. That has to mean we have three weeks to stop it.”
Something shifts in Ash’s expression, his attention sharpening on me.
“Three weeks,” I repeat. “That’s a Hunt.”
A boyish grin breaks through for the first time all morning. “That’s right, puppy. You’ve already run one.”
“Yeah. How could I forget?”
And how could I forgive?
His smile changes, losing its boyish edge. “Dad gave me a date, a place, and three weeks to find the weak point. That’s more than he should’ve given me.”
We’re back on the path when Ash’s slate goes. He stops to read it, his expression changing almost immediately. “Seren found Ryven. He’s in a bar on the eastern side. Apparently, he’s been there since last night, and Seren says he’s barely making sense.”
“Is he all right?”
“He’s drunk in a bar before lunch three weeks before Dad tries to marry him off to another planet.” Ash puts the slate away. “So no.”
“Then what are you waiting for? Go and see him.”
His attention snaps back to me. “I’m not leaving you here. Let me take you to Onyx first.”
“You do remember I drove us home yesterday, right?”
“That doesn’t mean I like you doing it.”
“I survived Calder traffic for years.”
“On foot.”
“It still counts.” I step in front of him before he can argue again. “Go now, Ash. Not in an hour. Ryven needs you more than I need a lift.”
His jaw tightens, but he listens.
“There are three of you, and there always has been,” I continue. “If he’s sitting in a bar trying to disappear, go sit beside him until he stops. Let him be angry. Let him shout at you if that’s what he needs.”
