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Rest, brother,Malachi said with a nudge to my shoulder before he smacked me with his wings as they flew away.
* * *
A long lineled to the pyre where last goodbyes were being said before the lighting of the pyre. It appeared some were not ready to say goodbye yet.
I hadn’t seen Esta since sleeping next to her in her lair two nights before, but I knew she was going to need some space to mourn and heal from what happened. I wasn’t anyone of value to Dra Skor and even I was struggling with my anger.
John went before me, putting a hand on the pyre and whispering a sentiment of sorts.
It was finally my turn. Archer had me dressed appropriately in black. A black shirt again unbuttoned, black jacket and slacks, my crown back atop my head weighing me down.
I approached Serkan and let my head drop a moment as I tried to swallow down the lump in my throat. This was all wrong. He couldn’t be dead. He’d just been alive and pestering me moments before it had all taken a turn.
“Rest well, old friend,” I whispered. I knew you could touch Serkan if you wished to, and given how fond I was of him, I reached out to touch the skin of his tail wrapped around his body. It was cold, and that bothered me far more than I thought it would. “I will continue to risk it for the biscuit. You deserve nothing less.”
I blinked hard and turned, my eye snagging on a rather dragon-looking green one not far off.
I knew what was next, Serkan’s wife. A woman named Tara. She was standing next to his body taking sympathies from the others.
John again went before me, nodding and saying something kind.
I allowed my magic to briefly warm me, if only to keep my emotions in check as I stood before a graying old woman, her hair pulled up in a tight bun. She was lovely. Positively lovely. And she should not be a widow, yet here we were.
I made sure to look into her kind brown eyes as I said, “I only knew your husband for a brief time, but I was really coming to love him and his quirky ways.”
Emric stepped beside me. “And I vow to keep rather vehemently using some of his phrases. They will live on.”
I swallowed hard, thankful for Emric’s intrusion and then was surprised when she stepped up to hug us both. “From what I understand, he went from asking our queen daily if he could kill you, Prince Keiran, to asking how you were every day. So, I think he felt similarly.”
I gave her a nod, stunned by how generous she could be from around all her grief. I remembered my mother’s funeral. The numbness. I hadn’t been able to say anything or comfort anyone. There had been no comfort in my existence from that point on.
Emric and I stepped to find John, standing on the side for the lighting of the pyre. It took almost an hour before the shifters and everyone had filed through the line to say goodbye.
Finally, Amory stood next to the pyre, posing as Esta’s voice, I was sure.
“Today, we say goodbye to our fellow brother. Serkan Revalt. Peace you have found. Death into Zion, brother. May you light our way home.” Her voice cracked on her last words, and I wished we could have been standing closer. Collectively, eerily all together, the Enchanted of Dra Skor pounded their fists over their hearts twice.
Then the stomping started up. I was a bit confused, as I thought this routine of theirs was a victory cry. Then again, maybe a proper sendoff was considered a victory. His death had been barbaric and unexpected, but Dra Skor wouldn’t give him anything less than the goodbye he deserved.
Esta took to the skies above us, the only one, different from the way we’d done this before when all the shifters normally circled around and around.
I felt a little like I was dancing the steps to a waltz I didn’t know, but I joined in the stomping. John and Emric already mastered this Dra Skor tradition, so I was the lone foreigner.
Kian and another land dragon pushed two wooden boards from the sides of the pyre, as they had somehow been lodged to keep the pyre from moving downstream until this moment. And as the stomping crescendo grew into an unbearably loud beat, Serkan making his final trip through Dra Skor, Esta swooped down from the skies. In one fiery breath, she lit the pyre.
And together all the Enchanted let out a roar. It was a roar of rage from some, sorrow from others, and pain from others yet.
Serkan was gone.
CHAPTER30
Iwas about to make a bad decision. It had been an emotional day. I had just been considering the fact that I hadn’t consumed any alcohol of any sort since my arrival in Dra Skor and drinking a whiskey in Serkan’s honor seemed like a swell idea, when I saw that jackass Zaire.
There was a bonfire roaring. Laughter was heard, even from Serkan’s wife. The people of Dra Skor mourned and celebrated hand in hand in a way that took the breath from me. Stories were being shared about the man, and though we’d been at this for hours, no one was in a hurry to leave. It seemed that everyone wanted to be together.
And it was refreshing as hell. I had no problems with it. I just didn’t have the stomach to stand around the fire and watch Zaire pretend to care, pretend to mourn when he had just been verbally bashing him a few days ago. I was still suspicious that Zaire was in on whatever evil lurked in Dra Skor.
I wanted to walk over and punch him in the damn face. There was no other way to say it. Violence really wasn’t my first line of defense, but I was angry. Serkan deserved to have those who loved him and respected him celebrating him. Not those who’d criticized and hurt him.
