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“Heylel and Alastair deserve to know first. We should go to them.”
Grief swelled in my chest. I gave a short nod. “And then we need to speak to her about starting some new construction.”
Medica arched a brow at me.
“They have their souls hidden away somewhere. Likely in a crystal, stashed some place we’ll never find.” I lifted my tea, took a long gulp, and stared at that Elvan ore castle peak. “Not unless we can get them to tell us.”
“What does that have to do with new construction?” Medica asked.
He’d see.
* * *
I bathed.
I didn’t want to—I didn’t have the energy for it—but I wasn’t going to show at Heylel’s door, nor Alastair’s, covered in day old blood and reeking of burned flesh. They’d need hugs and comfort. I wasn’t sure how great I’d be at giving it right now, but I wouldn’t accomplish much of anything when I sobbed every time I looked down at Véa’s blood on my hands.
Medica offered to come with me, but I said he didn’t need to unless he wanted to. Heylel was my nephew, and Alastair was my cousin’s son. This news would be easiest received through family.
My hand trembled as I lifted my knuckles and tapped on the door. Heylel swung it open a moment later, smiling when he saw it was me. Until he noted my expression, and the light in his eyes vanished. “What happened?”
Any composure I’d mustered up dissipated. Chest tightening, tears burning across my eyes, I said, “We should have a seat, esiasch.”
* * *
It wasn’t a surprise that Alastair was already here. He and Heylel were close, the best of friends. I’d say they reminded me of me and Lux when we were young, but considering they were almost never at one another’s throats, I’d say they were closer to Sanvi and Hana.
I didn’t go into the details of what their parents’ bodies looked like, but I told them the events that led us to where we were. I explained everything as I’d lived it, and the bits I’d inferred from Véa’s death.
They reacted the way I’d expected. Alastair stood and paced the room with a tight jaw and tears in his eyes. Heylel’s eyes filled with tears, and he clasped his shaking palms together in his lap.
“Was it… Do you think they were in pain?” Heylel asked.
“Not for long, no,” I said.
A slow nod, using his sleeve to wipe his eyes. Just when he seemed to have regained his composure, his face screwed up in grief, heartache. “The children… none of them…”
My eyes burned too. I tightened my lips to a line to keep from sobbing. Once I could pull in an even breath without breaking down, I said, “They killed them all.”
Heylel made no attempt to shield his pain. His eyes filled with tears, and his lips quivered, and he furiously shook his head. “But… no. No, that doesn’t—why?Whywould they do that?”
“They want to reincarnate you all,” Alastair said. “They want to indoctrinate you to defer to them so you can’t rule above them.”
“That’s how it seems, aye.”
Alastair gritted his teeth to a hard line. He gazed out the window, clenching his hands to tight fists. “I fucking hate them. You should’ve killed them. That’s what you all should’ve done. Not imprisonment. They don’t deserve a cushy cell. They deserve the skin ripped from their bones.”
If he’d said that yesterday morning, I would’ve cringed. I would’ve taken it as a teaching moment. Technically, Alastair was my second cousin, but I considered him a nephew. I’d treated him as such his entire life. He’d had three father figures, so he hadn’t clung to me growing up the way that Heylel did, but I’d still parented all the little ones when it was necessary.
He wasn’t so little anymore though.
And neither were the boys.
They may have been my kin. I may have loved them. But they were grown men who’d made awful, unspeakable decisions.
I agreed with Alastair. They deserved death. That’d be too quick, however, and I needed information from them first.
“What’re you planning, Uncle?” he asked, still facing the window.
