“Amazing,” Naia breathed out, captivated.
Beyond the swaying tendrils of wisteria, Finnian could make out the knolls at the entrance of the Lavender Fields of Healing. The sight spiked his heart rate, compressing his breath.
This is it. This is truly it.
His chest tightened.
I can’t do this. I can’t watch him leave me—again.
Resistance burned the muscles in his legs. He went to pull his hand from Cassian, but Cassian’s grip constricted.
Finnian cut his eyes over at him.
Cassian gave him a comforting look that said,you are okay.
Finnian let out an unsteady exhale as they emerged from the tree line.
The delicate breeze of the Field ruffled through his hair, fluttering his shirt against his torso.
Naia’s breath hitched at the view of the rustling lavender. “Beautiful.”
They came to a stop and the Errai both turned sideways and stretched an arm out, gesturing to the vast, lavender locks. “Lord Vale, High God of Nature, it is an honor to welcome you into the Land of the Dead. In the Lavender Field, you will find healing. Your troubles, your pain, it will all fade. May you find peace in Death.”
Father’s body shifted to take a step.
“Wait!” Finnian lurched forward, catching the velvet material of his robe in between his fingers. “I am not ready for this!”
Father twisted to face him. It was strange to not see the baby's breathgracing his dark strands; his scruffy cheeks devoid of color; eyes that were as crisp as the earth’s soil, now the same pastel lilac sparkle as the energy shining over his head. Proof that what had happened in the grove was real.
He was dead and everything screamed in Finnian to find a way to reverse it.
Father lifted Finnian’s hand up between them and turned his palm upright.
“I create blossoms knowing only a few will survive a day.” He swiveled his own wrist in a familiar motion and a large trumpet-shaped flower blossomed in Finnian’s open hand. “But there is no such thing as finality. The cycle continues, time and time again. You must let it.”
Tears welled in Finnian’s eyes, pricking at the back of his nose. The flower petals tickled against his skin. He’d never hadthe chance to tell Father what his favorite flower was as a boy, and yet, somehow, he knew.
Father leaned in and kissed his forehead. “Even in death, Finnian. Love is the only thing truly immortal.”
Finnian’s vision blurred Father into a silhouette. He pursed his lips to smother another sob.
Father stepped back and gave him, Naia, and Marina a final look.
Finnian blinked away the moisture collecting in his eyes, desperate to memorize this moment. One last time. To float in Father’s presence, like the calmest sea, feeling as it began to drain away.
Eyes glistening, Father said, “I love each of you. Deeper than the earth.”
Finnian’s eyes fell shut.
Naia curled her other arm around his waist and pulled him into her side.
Footfalls shuffled through the stalks of lavender.
He is leaving me.
His legs shook against his own weight. Naia held him closer to her side, as if she could feel his trembling.
He is leaving me.
