“I prefer the silence of graveyards because, while I’ve perfected my hearing aid, the fact is, without it, my hearing is broken. In loud, busy environments, my brain must work harder to listen during conversations. It causes me to experience a mental fatigue that no potion or spell can remedy.”
“Do you have any other side effects?” he asked, meeting Finnian’s vulnerability with empathy.
“Some, yes. When it first happened, I experienced a persistent ringing in my ear and vertigo until my brain adjusted to the loss. Now, those things have settled. Though, it does take my brain a moment to adjust if I go a certain length oftime without wearing the crystal. The noise coming in does not sound…natural.”
Cassian cataloged all of this information in the back of his mind, appreciating every small, intricate detail Finnian shared with him.
Finnian lined a white powder alongside the symbol of blood. “Back at the graveyard, what did you make the triplets see?”
“Illusions of their worst fears.”
Finnian glanced back at him, intrigued. “Illusions are your niche, I presume?”
Cassian smirked, sliding his hand back inside his front pocket. “My talents go much further than ruling the Land of the Dead.”
Finnian stared at him, somber, almost as if he understood something Cassian was afraid to admit to himself. That a part of him had always held back on the young god. Whether it was intentional or because he had underestimated Finnian in the beginning, there had always been a part of him that never desired to curse him.
“What are you working on?” Cassian turned his attention to the sigil.
The question snapped Finnian out of his thoughts, and he raised a hand. “Ignis.” He matched the incantation with a languid wrist motion.
Mystic red flames devoured the bundle of white sage and mugwort in its center. Embers rippled up in the charcoal caps of smoke. The frail pieces transformed into tangible specks of light.
Cassian tilted his head back and took them all in, painting the room.
Finnian swiped his hand in a backward motion and the candlelight snuffed out. Darkness engulfed the room and filled with a swarm of harmonious, medallion-like orbs buzzing around them.
Fireflies.
“Do you recall that night in Augustus?” Finnian asked.
Cassian peeked over at him, peering up at them. They reflected like luminescent ornaments in his eyes. “I recall it every day.”
“It is in shambles now because of the war.”
Cassian frowned at the prospect of the countryside now a battleground. “It will rebuild. Mortal villages always do.”
Finnian flashed his gaze, rich and green like juniper, onto Cassian. “I know you bargained with Mira to replenish the balance within the Land of the Dead and the Land of Entity. The balance that I disrupt with my necromancy.”
Cassian’s shoulders stiffened and he refocused on the magical fireflies, unable to look directly at him as he said, “I told you, I do not wish to curse you.”
“Why?” His voice was almost a whisper.
Cassian reached for the words he did not know how to say. His tongue felt heavy with their weight. “Because I do not wish for you to suffer.” It was a surface-level truth.
“Do you think I wish the same for you?” It came out rough, accusatory. A glare burrowed into Cassian’s cheek. He could feel Finnian’s frustration dissolving through his skin and bristling in his veins. “You asked why I called you here. It is because I wanted to make you a promise.”
Cassian rotated, granting his full attention. “What do you mean?”
“Those in Hollow City will never perish.” Finnian said, his tone full of resolution. “However, I will not revive those outside of my city. The rest of the world is yours, free of my tampering.”
Cassian searched his face, astonished by his vow. Compromising in any way was the last thing he expected—for Finnian to show recognition of the burden his necromancy had placed on Cassian’s shoulders. The situation of balancewas temporarily resolved, and while Finnian’s declaration was hardly perfect, it wassomething.
A smile broke apart his lips, carving adorable divots on both sides of his cheeks. “Is this what the High God of Death and Curses looks like when in shock?”
A flutter caught in Cassian’s stomach.
No.
