After Belial departed, she grabbed a mop, and Murmur helped her clean up the remains of the necromancy spell. When that was done, Murmur inscribed a fresh hellgate on the floor, and she stood back and watched him work. He drew the hell-gate as easily as she wrote her own name, and, after all those hours in his library, it occurred to Suyin that this would be her last chance to marvel at his skill.
He stood, setting the chalk down among her casting supplies, and then turned to face her. The gate was already activated; she could sense its subtle pulse of magic.
She tried to ignore the sadness and regret in his eyes—eyes that had returned to their normal color after he’d woken up. She tried to harden her heart against him. Trust was everything, and there was none between them. It had to be this way.
“This can’t be goodbye,” he said.
“It has to be.”
He shook his head.
“It is, Murmur.”
He looked so fucking miserable, it gutted her. But he’d brought this on himself, she reminded herself for the hundredth time. She had no choice.
Just to prove it to herself, she went over to the desk and scooped up the pile of books he’d given her. “Here. You’re not dead anymore, so you can have your books back.”
He looked affronted, stepping out of her reach. “Those were a gift to you.”
“Yeah, when you were dead. You also gave me your entire library.”
“It’s still yours.”
She blinked. “You can’t give me your library, Murmur. You need it.”
He shook his head. “Not anymore. My work is complete. Yours is just beginning. I want you to have it.”
“I can’t—Murmur, I’m not going back there. I can’t—” Her voice broke, and she shook her head roughly. Fuck, this was hard. “Keep your library. I’ll keep these books.” She turned and set them back on the desk. “Deal?”
He just looked sad.
If he didn’t leave soon, she was going to break, and there was no way that was happening. So when he took a step toward her, she took one back, keeping space between them.
He flinched.He brought this on himself, she repeated over and over.I can’t forgive him. I can’t trust him.
“Goodbye, Murmur,” she whispered through the squeezing tightness in her throat.
“This isn’t goodbye,” he said firmly, and then with one last look, he stepped into the hellgate and disappeared.
She hurried forward and smudged the line before she could think twice and do something stupid like go after him.
Alone, she surveyed her empty living room and decided everything that had happened here was a pretty good metaphor for her life. Her heart, specifically. Only, if her heart had been sacrificed, there was no necromancy to bring it back to life. All she felt in its place was a cold, vacant,achinghole.
She tried to chastise herself out of her misery. She was back home, alive and well. There were no more demon stalkers, feelings of foreboding, or haunting, prophetic dreams. She had all the answers she’d sought about herself, and she had a fresh stack of grimoires with plenty more to learn. She was bursting with new knowledge to share with the coven. She had resolved her friendship with Iris, and they were closer than ever.
And most importantly … Murmur’s spell had succeeded. Her father’s soul was freed, reunited with her mother’s in the afterlife. She could finally make peace with what had happened to him, knowing he, too, was at peace.
It was everything she’d wanted, and she should have been happy.
Should have … but wasn’t. Not even remotely.
She sank into the sofa and stared at the wall ahead. Her face was blank. Her chest hurt like a motherfucker. A tear formed in the corner of one eye, so she swiped it away. Another formed in the other eye, so she swiped that away too. All of a sudden, too many tears were forming, and she couldn’t wipe them away quickly enough. Her vision blurred until the wall in front of her disappeared altogether.
She let them fall until they dried up. And when she was done, she stood up again, and told herself that was it. That was all she was going to let herself cry over this.
But that didn’t mean the pain was gone, no. She didn’t think that would ever go away.
HANG ONLIKEGRIMDEATH
