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Being here, standing at the edge of the sand, was not an unfamiliar occurrence to any of the onlookers present. Many had been in Graeson’s shoes before, for carrying the dead was a tradition handed down from when the gods walked among them. People from all over Pontia had come here to send away the deceased when elders passed of old age or when missions abroad went awry. For a mortal, death was imminent. Death was inevitable. It was familiar to all. But that didn’t make it any easier to deal with when a mother had to say goodbye to her son. Or when you carried your friend’s body.
The weight of a lifetime of memories pressed down on Graeson’s shoulders. The smooth wood dug into his calloused palms as Graeson carried the canoe with his best friend’s name etched into the grain: Fynneares Andros Nadarean.
Unlike when Graeson had made the trek to the island off the coast of Pontia before, he was one of the people carrying the wooden canoe. This time, along with five others, he was the one who placed the canoe onto the deck and helped lift the small wooden structure into the lake. Who, once the canoe was set into the water, still couldn’t shake its weight off his shoulders.
His body was rigid; his mind, blank. He was numb—they all were. For the past three days, they all were cold, empty, directionless shells.
Being numb was easy. It was what came afterward that Graeson feared the most.
Soon, the numbness would melt into something else, something too complicated to name. Something Graeson didn’t have time for—not with the people around him falling apart. Not with the kingdom disintegrating to ash everywhere he looked.
So, instead of dealing with the complications, Graeson bottled it up. He would deal with it tomorrow. If not tomorrow, then soon.
Eventually.
When he had no other choice.
With the help of the other canoe bearers, Graeson pushed the boat away from the dock and deeper into the Black Lake.
This was the last time he would see his friend, his brother in everything that mattered but blood. After the Frenzians had attacked him, he had been nearly unrecognizable. Cotton wrappings covered Fynn’s entire body, concealing the stark wounds that had been gracefully sewn closed. They all thought that Fynn was invincible. They never questioned whether he would rise to the throne. But now, Fynn would never be crowned king of Pontia, a kingdom now broken and almost burned to the ground.
Graeson ground his teeth together.
They should have been celebrating the return of their stolen princess, not grieving the loss of their future king.
As he stared at Fynn’s body, Graeson felt helpless.
His hands fell from the oak, and his attention slipped to the lake. Graeson couldn’t recall ever being this close to the dark waters. He had always maintained his distance, the superstition of the water ingrained into his mind. Only the dead were allowed to touch the water without consequences. That did not prevent the cursed water from calling to the living, tempting them to enter the pool.
Graeson’s hand was only a couple of feet above the water, one hand out in the air and the fingers of the other curling around the end of the plank. Small ripples distorted his reflection. Even near the coast, the bottom of the lake was impossible to see, the water too dark, too clouded. Graeson knew he shouldn’t touch it, yet it called to him, beckoned him, like a whisper on the breeze.
A little further, he would be able to feel the cool water touch his skin. Bliss awaited him. Just a few more inches and—
A snarl came from the back of his mind, and the sight before him fluttered in and out of focus as Graeson tried to force the dangerous thoughts away from his mind.
He couldn’t think about why they were here. Hewouldn’tthink about it. He could not afford to think about her, not right now. Not when she—
The tip of a bow scraped against the deck, and a flash of black leather boots appeared in his peripheral vision as Dani’s sleek figure stepped toward the end of the dock, bow loose in her hand.
Graeson blinked. His jaw clenched, and pain shot through his teeth, the sharp sting clearing his mind. He wouldn’t let the lake drag him down. He wouldn’t let it cloud his mind. He had things to do. He had people to care for and a kingdom to help look after.
He pushed himself up, ripping himself away from the Black Lake’s tug, lest Graeson wish to call upon the god of death to claim him next. He fixed his gaze on Dani. She didn’t need to be the one to do this. She shouldn’t be the one to set her husband’s body ablaze. Graeson had tried to argue against it. They all did. But no matter what her friends and family said, no matter what they did, Dani wouldn’t budge. It was her responsibility, she had said, not as his wife but as a general. If it were one of her soldiers in the boat, she would have been the one to release the flaming arrow and relieve them of their duty. Fynn deserved the best shot, and Dani was, without a doubt, the best.
When Terin squeezed her shoulder in reassurance, there was the tiniest flinch, the slight scrunch of the muscles in Dani’s face as her husband’s twin touched her. At the same moment, Graeson saw the dejection pass through Terin. They had been friends since they were children, yet his touch was no longer a comfort Dani wished for. To Dani, Terin’s presence was an unintentional slap in the face. An ever-present reminder that her husband, her partner, was gone forever. Yet even though Fynn was dead, she would never be able to escape his face.
Terin’s hand fell to his side, limp.
Dani stared at Fynn’s canoe, and Graeson saw the brief moment flash across her face when she thought, whyhim? Whyhers?
Terin took a slow, jolted step backward, adding distance between Dani and himself.
Dani’s eyebrows scrunched together, shuddering at the thought that had slipped beyond her carefully crafted walls.
Since Fynn died three days ago, Dani had been no more than a ghost of her former self, barely there as she prepared for Fynn’s final voyage to the Beneath. She had barely glanced at Terin. In truth, she hadn’t given anyone attention. Still, her detachment was worse in Terin’s presence.
Dani needed time.
At least, that’s what everyone said.
