I drape my arm around him and try to remember how to breathe normally. But the whole time, I’m thinking about how thin he’s gotten. How even kissing him doesn’t lift the weight in his eyes anymore. I’m thinking about the way his voice shakes when he says my name in the middle of the night, and how sometimes I find him staring at the wall like he’s already gone.
How long can we keep this up?
How long before his mind slips, before he gives in?
It’s not that I want to let him out. It’s just that I want to save him. I need to save him.
If being locked away is what’s killing him, then maybe the risk of letting him out is worth it. Because if he dies, if he withers away, what’s the point in anything?
Maybe, just for a moment, we could find somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe. A walk in the garden, maybe. Ten minutes under the sky. Air in his lungs, sun on his skin. Something real to remind him who he is.
Because if I don’t do something soon, I’m going to lose him.
Chapter twenty-seven
Flyn
February is here. Finally. The longest winter ever is finally ending. Maybe I’ll start being able to breathe.
I place the freshly squeezed orange juice on the tray and pop two slices of bread into the toaster.
“La la la-la la!” shrieks Lello.
Everyone in the kitchen laughs. Even Blue.
“Not quite,” he chuckles. “Try again.”
Lello takes a deep breath and repeats his noises. The only difference I can hear is the volume. This time his braying is louder. It’s tempting to cover my ears.
As Lello finishes his attempt at singing a scale, he collapses into fits of giggles. It’s contagious. My lungs are shaking. Who knew a siren trying to teach a kelpie to sing would be so hilarious?
The toaster pops and I grab its offerings and quickly butter them. Level three toastiness. Jade’s favorite.
I quickly dash out of the kitchen before the toast can get cold. I hurry down the stairs to the dungeon and push the door open with my shoulder.
Darkness envelops me. Along with an oppressive silence. Even the air is too still.
There are a dozen lamps down here, but they do nothing against the dark. It’s an entirely different world from the one I just left. There is no joy or laughter down here. No pale winter sunlight.
Jade is a motionless lump of bedcovers in the bed. He has gone back to sleep even though I only left ten minutes ago.
I force a swallow past the lump in my throat. He is sleeping so much these days. Though I guess it is the only way he has of escaping, and it’s not as if he is missing anything exciting, here down in the dungeon.
But he is missing out on so very much.
He is missing out on the nonsense upstairs. Just like he missed Christmas and New Year, even though everyone crammed down here to spend a few hours with him.
He is missing the snowdrops that have sprung to life all over the gardens. All the photos I’ve shown him are just not the same. He is going to miss the daffodils too.
I put the tray down on the bedside table. Jade doesn’t stir, so I gently shake his shoulder.
His eyes open, and he stares at me with a blank expression. There are dark shadows under his eyes. He looks worse today. He has been fading for far too long, but something is different this morning. It’s almost as if his last flicker of hope has burned out.
“Breakfast!” I say with all the cheer I can muster.
He sighs and shuffles up to a sitting position. I place the tray on his lap. He picks up a piece of toast and starts eating it robotically.Like it is a chore that has to be endured.
“I have a headache,” he says in a monotone voice. “Can you bring down some painkillers?” His green eyes are dull. The emerald sparkle has been extinguished.
