Another wrong made right.
The carbonationof the beer bubbled in his stomach as he sat his pint down on the countertop of the bar. “Hollow City’spopulation was at four-hundred thousand, but that was five years ago.”
Eleanor’s chin fell. “So many people!”
Mid-swig of her pint, Isla’s eyes widened.
Finnian chuckled at their reactions, leaning back on his stool and crossing his arms. “On the contrary. Nowadays, the amount is normal for a successful city.”
“The crime rate?” Eleanor leaned sideways, her elbow propped up on the bar counter. He could count every freckle dotting her rosy cheeks as he watched her lips.
The atmosphere was full of loud chatter, and his brain had to naturally work harder to decipher all the sounds through his hearing aid.
“Homeless rate?” Eleanor continued, her knee bumping against the side of his thigh. “Oh gods, Finny, what about hospitals? You must have more than one. What about authorities? How much of the population are mages? You kept the city board running, yes? I will kill you if you say no.”
When she was alive, Finnian detested her habit of intensely invading his space, despite her reasoning that she was accommodating his impairment—regardless of the amount of times he explained that his hearing aid could pick up her words like any other mortal ear—but now he couldn’t help but find it soothing.
“Authorities exist, but they stick to the non-magical side of the city,” he explained. “I would deal with the magical side or send one of my organizations to do so. There are three hospitals, and they are quite large. Crime rate was down when I left, but there is no telling what happened after my departure. Homeless rate was normal for a city so big. I created a place called the Valley, designated for the homeless community, and often supplied them with food and other necessities. And yes, the board you created still lives on.”
“Could you imagine, Isla?” Eleanor craned her neck to look around Finnian, her elbow scooting against his stein. Frothy liquid crested over the sides. “When we were alive, it was a couple thousand.”
Isla lightly nudged Finnian’s arm on his other side, a cue to look at her before she spoke—something she had regularly done during her lifetime they spent as friends. “I am proud of you, Finny. It seems like you’ve created a wonderful home.”
“Wecreated,” he corrected her, his voice quiet against the steady talk of the tavern.
Eleanor giggled, playfully bumping her fist into his arm. “Do you remember how we first met?”
Finnian shot her a look. “You mean how you tried to hex a priest and your spell hit a horse instead?”
Isla threw her hands over her mouth, laughing.
“The horse turned psychotic and tried to eat us!” Eleanor exclaimed, her facial expressions just as animated as they were when she had been alive. “Good thing you were there to remove it.” She wiggled her brows at him, grinning.
He rolled his eyes at her, unable to resist the pinching of a smile.
“Finny chided me for weeks after I convinced him to allow you to join us.” Isla wiped the tears leaking from her eyes, grinning widely. “Shortly after, the triplets nearly ended our lives.”
“I h—d nigh—m—s of Astrid f—ears after—ards,” Eleanor shuddered, her words drowned out by the sudden squeals and laughter from a nearby table. Without meaning to, his concentration had gone to the louder noise, and he’d missed what she’d said.
Finnian looked at her, replaying the glimpses of her words through his mind.
Discomfort he was painfully familiar with coiled through his chest. A feeling that came with having to decide to halt the conversation and ask the person to repeat the phrase, or pretend like he’d heard what had been said. He usually did the second option, but since it was Eleanor, he didn’t mind to sit in the uncomfortable feeling and ask her to repeat herself.
Before he could do so, though, she said, “Thank heavens for Everett.”
Everett?
Finnian stared at her, confused. “Who?”
His pulse picked up, nervous that he had misread her lips. A skill he’d spent centuries perfecting.
“Eleanor,” Isla hissed.
Eleanor exchanged a terse look with Isla.
Finnian glanced between the two, unable to hide his bewilderment. “Who is Everett?”
Eleanor flitted her gaze to Finnian, slightly raising her chin, too confident with whatever internal decision she’d made. “Everett showed up and saved us.”
