“You must leave,” he demanded, like the words could not exit his mouth quickly enough. “Now.”
“You were right. She had a power within her all along. Just as you’d said.” Finnian could hardly believe it. Father was before him, and it was as if he were thirteen years old again, spewing knowledge about all the fascinating herbs and plants he’d found in the jungle, near the water hole, and all the fresh teas he could make with them. “From here on, her days will be fruitful. All of ours will be. But first, you must come with me, Father.”
“I cannot go. You must understand. I may not leave. You need to go?—”
“But you can. I am here to rescue you.”
Father turned away as he spoke. “No, you are here to pay for the souls you stole from Cassian.”
Finnian blinked, his response stalling. “I realize this is sudden, but we must hurry if we wish to?—”
Father spun on him. “I said I will not go. I see all my children from here. I’ve watched how you’ve withheld souls within their rotting bones; how you’ve murdered innocents with your ghouls in your precious city!” His tone grew boisterous, chiseling the inside of Finnian’s chest with his dissent. “Allowing them to feast on mortals to keep them alive. Those they’ve killed, you turn them into your undead toys, and the horrific cycle continues.”
Finnian’s mouth opened and closed, his response held hostage in his throat. This is what he’d feared most when he dreamed of their reunion—Father lecturing him over his actions. “Mother banished me.”
“You didn’t have to threaten Malik after he killed Arran.”
“Malik is worse than I. He deserved?—”
“You cannot talk about penance when you have done just as much wrong as he!” Father’s voice rose.
Finnian grimaced. Regret and humiliation ached in his chest as he glared at his father.
“Malik, High God of Slaughter, who gathered praise from the mortals by murdering those in their prayers. Those who had done them wrong. A bloodlust assassin. That is who you are comparing me to?” Finnian had revived more than he could count of Malik’s victims and could attest to the horrors they’d experienced. His brother had been born entirely without compassion.
All his life, Finnian had strived to hang onto a fraction of his humanity. To never sink too far into the abyss, never allowing his disgruntled outlook to truly stick. Each day, he searched for the beauty life held, learning to recognize the affection exchanged between others and appreciate it for what it was. Each day, he struggled to face the light while carrying a lifelong void within. Effort that now felt meaningless. Why had he even bothered?
“Finnian, I said leave me!” Father charged forth, his arm reaching through the bars of his cell. He shoved Finnian back by the chest.
Finnian staggered, his father’s strength jarring him. The flame in his palm flared, along with his unclipped irritation. “What did you expect when you and Mother raised us to be this way?” It left his mouth cold and pointed.
The itch in his skull magnified, sending a sharp pang down his neck.
“Do not blame us for your impudence!” Father boomed, fury twisting his expression. “Now, I said leave. I will not go with you.”
The pain of his dismissal cut deep, splitting Finnian’s heart like a knife through fruit.
Any second Cassian will appear.A reminder of his race against time.
“I am getting you out.” Determination blazed through the hurt. Finnian’s free hand shook as he went to grab hold of the bars. He had three seconds to bend the iron before teeth sunk into his flesh.
“I do not wish to go with you. You are not the boy I raised.”
Finnian’s hand stopped a few inches from the bars and curled into a fist, the pain of his father’s words reverberating in his bones. He wished he hadn't heard it; that his internal sounds had been louder, or that Father hadn’t spoken it so legibly.
He jerked his head up, meeting his father’s stern gaze. They were eye-level, and his stomach rolled at the stark observation of how much time had passed between them. The last time Finnian was in his presence, he was forced to look up at him by a dramatic height difference. The observation burned white-hot desperation in his limbs, nearly driving him to grab the bars and force them apart.
“Would you rather it be Naia? I can shape-shift myself and turn into her! Or perhaps one of the triplets? Marina? Or have they committed just as many vile acts as I? For fuck’s sake, Father, I beg of you, if you love me, come with me!”
“How could I ever love a son like you?” The octave of Father’s voice deepened, as if the words were coming out of a devilish being.
Finnian recoiled, the sting of his words branding his insides.
He stepped back, and the end of his heel crunched down on something.
Another ping rattled in his skull. He felt it in his teeth as he dropped his head.
Peonies circled around his feet. One after another, they climbed up from the tiles and unfolded their petals.
