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His eyes.
His eyes.
“I’m leaving soon, Mama. Will you come with me?” Was it October already? A year… a whole year…
“Please, just consider it. Arthur would be happy to have you, he insists. Weallthink it would be good for you…” Helena’s hand found my cheek.
“Perhaps I will,” I said dully, unable to recognize my own voice. Helena had planned to return to Bath to be with the young man we first saw her with. His name was Arthur, a human boy who stole her heart. All this time she had been with me, nourishing me, keeping me company on my darkest days, and as I watched the life drain from her eyes, watched her pallor change in response to my depression, I pushed her to pursue her heart. What sense was there in the both of us being so terribly miserable?
I had not wanted our reunion to be like this. Had not wanted my reunion with William to be how it was either.
“Have you put any more consideration into becoming Fully Blooded?” I asked, slowly rising from the rug to grab another bottle from my stash in the corner. I popped the lid, pouring the amber elixir into the decanter.
“I suppose that depends on Arthur’s decision.”
“His decision on what exactly?” I asked, turning sharply to look at her. She had her hair down, a riding dress ready for her trip. I caught sight of her suitcase by the door, hatred for myself wringing out in my stomach.
“His decision on Changing,” she stated.
“What does that have to do withyourdecision?” I pushed, pouring myself a clean glass, swigging back a mouthful. The burn of the alcohol exacerbated the burn of the thirst I was ignoring.
“I don’t want to live for an eternity without him, Mama. Should he choose to continue to be human, I will also stay Unchanged.”
I stared at her. Surely she did not mean that. Not after everything we had learned in the last year. Halflings lived about a few hundred years, but could be Fully Blooded–much the same way humans are Changed–and become immortal. Many of them were hidden away from others of our kind due to the threat of the Council. It was clear there was something about a Fully Blooded Halfling they did not like, but what?
Horris and Filip pulled the car in front of the estate, honking to let us know they were ready.
“And what of your family? For a human boy?” I pressed. She released a long exhale, her shoulders sagging. God, she looked so much like her father.
“I know you of all people can understand. There is something about Arthur that tethers me to him; there is nothing in this existence that could part me from him. He is me as much as I am.” I swigged more whiskey still, the laceration of grief spilling putrid waves inside me.
“I see,” I finally said after composing myself enough to answer her, tears welled in my eyes, my entire soul seemed to collapse in on itself.
I avoided looking at her, too much of William in her face and I knew it would push me over the edge. She rose, crossing the room to embrace me. I buried my face in her shoulder, taking in her sweet rosy scent. They honked again.
“Please come to England with me, Mama. I’ll book you passage next week; I expect to see you on the dock,” Helena insisted. I nodded woodenly, letting her kiss my cheek before she turned to leave. “I love you, very much. You’re going to get through this. We all will together. I’ll write to you as soon as I can.”
Helena paused a moment.
“I love you, too,” I said, looking down at my bare feet. Her footsteps went down the hall, and I listened to them leave the house. Watching through the window, she loaded her bags into the car, Horris’s eyes on me from the passenger seat. Helena climbed in and around him eagerly, a smile on her sweet face. Filip took off, rumbling around the curved driveway.
I turned around before I could watch her exit the gate, chugging the rest of my glass to pour more from the decanter.
The silence of the house, save for the rhythmic clock ticking in the entryway, was maddening.
I sagged against the windowsill, letting loose my sobs as I slid down onto the floor.
The screams did little good to relieve me of the demon of misery. I wished he would finish his ascent from my heart. It was no easy torment; throbbing, all-consuming. I watched as the room blurred in and out of reality, unsure if it was due to the alcohol or the despair.
Out of the corner of my eye I spied the dancing yellow flames inside the fireplace, smoldering lower and lower.
Crawling over to it, I gripped the iron poker. Thoughtlessly stoking the flames and watching as they jumped in response. The poker went deep into the burning logs and I let it sit as I stood, gripping the mantle for support.
I wept.
Wept as I turned the poker left and right, wept thinking of what Helena had said. Of how I had lost so much in my life. My brother, my parents, my life. The ability to raise my daughter. My Fated. It was all too much. I could no longer function, grief consumed me.
“‘Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad… onlydonot leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you. Icannotlive without my life, Icannotlive without my soul,’” I spluttered into the flames. If I could have bled, I would have been pouring from my center, unable to coagulate and clot, festering, evil agony, drained of all life. A zombie, a shell. Hollow.
