“What is this?” I turn accusingly at Kharon. “What’s wrong with him?”
Kharon stands tall behind my father, and I hate that Dad looks so diminished compared to him. “I’m sorry, I should have explained better. Only the spirit within him remained when he traveled to this world in death.”
I cry out and grab my chest, looking back at my father. “Dad,” I say, moving so I’m right in front of his face. “Dad, can you hear me?” I reach out again but remember what happened last time and pull back before touching him.
His sightless eyes stare right past me.
“Why can’t he see me? Why doesn’t he know me? I felt the pull to him. Can’t he feel me, too?”
“Sometimes, yes,” Kharon says, moving to my side. “But he’s only just gotten here. He’s confused, and whatever restlessness he felt in life is still deeply imprinted.”
“Does he still have his memories?” I ask desperately. “Can he even remember me?”
Kharon’s face is compassionate in a way that makes me furious as he looks down at me. “That’s not what this place is really for.”
“But you just said it was about his restlessness in life! Doesn’t that mean memories?”
“It means that everything that happens to us in our lives and how we respondaffectsus, whether we want it to or not. Grooves are imprinted on our souls, like on the records Romulus likes to listen to. And here in this realm, those records play on repeat.”
I hate how logical he’s being, how calm he is as he says it, and everything about this place. My chest is tight, and I keepswallowing back tears. I can’t stop looking at my father; he’s here and real, in front of me, and yet not at the same time.
“He’s just a ghost,” I whisper brokenly.
“But at least you know what happened now,” Kharon says gently.
I turn into his chest, and my sob finally breaks free. “Take me home,” I finally manage to hiccup out.
He nods into my hair, and all three pairs of arms wrap around me. I squeeze my eyes shut as the world drops from underneath my feet as we plane-jump back to our world.
TWENTY-FIVE
KHARON
When we get backto the church, it’s night-time. I stoke the fire, then leap to gather more snow to boil for water. I note that the raging storm has finally ended. The skies are so calm, I can see all the stars.
Ksenia is huddled near the fire, her knees pulled to her chest.
I wonder if taking her to her father was the right thing to do. But surely knowing is better than not, even if it is painful.
“The storm has stopped,” I say quietly, sitting on the floor several feet away from her. All I want is to gather her into my arms, but it does not seem right to crowd her in her grief.
When she looks my way, the firelight gleams off tear tracks on her cheeks.
“Good,” she says, her voice hard. “As soon as it’s light out, you can take me to where my uncle lives so I can get my revenge.”
I nod slowly. “If you allow it, I would like to assist you.”
She blinks in surprise. “You would do that?”
How can she ask that? But then, I suppose, in reality, we are still nothing to one another. Even though she has transformed what it means to be alive for me. I have known true happiness, and it is not just the fucking. That has been—Yes, that has been quite wonderful.
More than that, this creature has shared herself fully with me and wanted me in return without judgment or condemnation. She has found joy in my presence and my body, and for that, I will be hers forever. Still, though, I know I am the moon to her sun in a sky they will not share except for this brief, rare eclipse.
“Of course,” I say simply.
Then her eyebrows furrow. “Do you think I’m not deadly enough on my own? It’s only because he took me by surprise that I?—”
I chuckle. “I’ve seen you in action with your knives. I know you are plenty deadly. But from what you described, your uncle will not be unguarded. I have fought alongside many armies. You will be the commander, and I will follow your lead.”
