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Victorya did not greet me as I stepped over the boundary. Nor did the other phantoms of my past as I made my way, from memory, towards the tunnels that would lead to the untouched chamber of darkness.
Katharine led the way, bare feet patting across the ruined floors. I gifted myself small moments to look up as I followed her, quickly snapping my focus back to the boy in my arms.
To Jak.
My Jak.
It had never ended this way. With me aware as I held the remains of a Claim. Not since the first. Not since I carried another boy named Jak. Full circle. That was how it felt.
I felt tired. More so as we finally stepped beneath the shattered doorway into the shadowed pathway which led to the underbelly of the castle. Only the smell of burning stone and wood lingered here.
It did not matter. His fire could have burned this entire place until it was nothing more than ash. I would not have cared. Not if it meant he was alive.
With me.
Seeing through to morning as he had wished.
I believed Katharine was talking. To me or herself, I was not sure.
There were no words I could muster in return, not as I willed to share in the same deathly silence of the boy in my arms. I feared that I would speak and miss a movement from him. A subtle noise or pinch of his expression that would prove that this was all an illusion. A nasty joke he played on me.
Then I stopped, bumping into Katharine who blocked the way ahead. I then looked up and saw that we were in the small chamber. Melted, broken chains lay at our feet. Did I break out? Did the fire burn them? The padlock was a mess of melted iron.
“You should lay him down, Marius.”
I wanted to refuse her aloud, but I barely managed to shake my head to disregard her suggestion.
Then her small, dirtied and worn hands reached for Jak cautiously. “I understand you’re hurt. Believe me. But you must lay him to rest.”
“He is still bleeding,” I croaked, voice hoarse and throat sore. “I pushed him towards her, it’s my fault. And he still bleeds, long after his mother has stopped bleeding herself.”
“Rest him in the coffin, Marius, lay him down.”
Did she not hear me?
I stared at the blood, how it now looked deep obsidian in the dark room. A river of black blood now covered my arms, chest and hands. But not once did I dare reach down and taste. I was not full, far from it. But the feeling, the craving of urgency had left with the arrival of dawn.
Control had returned, but at the price of his life.
At some point Katharine guided me by the elbow deeper into the room. I kicked the base of the wooden framed coffin and came to a stop. With great regret I lowered Jak down into the coffin, mind screaming for me to keep him in my arms. But a single thought would not let up as I stared down at his seemingly sleeping expression.
“I could heal him,” I said to Katharine. “How I healed you. Your mother. Bring him back.”
I saw the wince in Katharine’s face from across the coffin. But with her mundane eyes she would not see my expression, or lack thereof.
“The dead cannot be healed. Only the living. He is gone, Marius. I am sorry.”
I felt a bubble of defiance rush to the surface of my soul. I bit down onto my own lip, breaking skin until my mouth filled with my own blood. I recoiled at the taste of my life force. Bitter, aged and stale.
“How can you explain such philosophy when I am dead, yet can withstand all but daylight…?” I broke the silence, mind burning with determination. “He burned me with fire, I survived. I live years without warmth in my skin. I am death, yet I carry on. If I do not try, I will never forgive myself.”
One glance into Katharine’s eyes and I witnessed her understanding, far before my own caught up to me.
“Will it work?”
My sharp nail was already pressed against my upper arm. I did not register the nick as it broke my skin as I muttered, “For my sake, and the world beyond this place, I hope so.”
I learned long ago that the curse was rooted in blood. A defiance of eternal life that had to be refilled from year to year. For my blood was life force, and not mine at all. It was the remnants from each Claim.
