“Let’s go.”
By the time we reach the riverside, it’s barely eight in the morning yet the place is crawling with people.
“The living statues have really brought out the crowds,” Seb says. “This is seriously messed up.”
Among the gawkers, I spot Silver’s slight form standing between Zeph and Roscoe, with Dante nearby. The three of them are acting like a wall around one statue.
I find myself on the outside of their little group, kicking myself for letting things get into this state.
“Hi,” I say, like a total asshole. “I’m so sorry, I overslept. But I came as soon as I heard.”
The excuse sounds shitty and feeble, even to my own ears.
Silver’s face is a mask of surprise when she sees me and it’s a kick to the dick, as I realize she had no expectations of me coming down here at all.
And then I see the statue behind her. The red hair is unmistakable. Focusing my magic onto Ember, I can feel the faint heartbeat still pumping despite his frozen state.
“He’s alive,” I mutter the words more to myself than anything.
“He is,” Silver replies. “They all are. They’re not conscious, though, which I think is a good thing.”
“I still don’t understand what the point of this is,” Hanna says from a few feet away where she’s got a fireball in her hand. “Whyisn’t anything working?” She’s as close to tears as I’ve ever seen her.
Silver steps closer and wraps her arms around her sister, hugging her close.
“This is the vamps’ handiwork again?” I ask, feeling useless and out of the loop.
“They left a pretty big calling card,” Zeph grunts, gesturing to the mound of bodies behind them.
Shit.
“It’s another fucking spectacle,” Zeph spits. “Making the Archarcans look incompetent and scaring the shit out of people at the same time.”
“I still think they probably got fed up with Ember and it was the only way to shut him up,” Hanna jokes, swiping at her streaming eyes with the back of her hand.
“How long do you think they’ll last like this?”
“Who knows?” Silver shrugs. “They could stay like this forever, or at least until whatever spell they’re under is lifted.”
She looks devastated, and I want to wrap her up in my arms and protect her from everything bad in the world.
It’s not lost on me that I’ve done a shit job of that recently.
I had thought that by fixing up the gaping holes in the district; I was making a future for us all. Ensuring it so that we can all walk down the street unmolested. But I don’t think that’s where anyone needs me to be.
“I think we ought to take a break. Regroup,” Ro says.
“You’re looking dead on your feet,” Zeph tells Silver, causing Dante to pat him on the shoulder and mutter something I don’t catch.
“Not that you look bad, Silver. You always look good, you know that.”
I say nothing. I’m not all that sure they need me here either, though.
Dante’s the one that pulls Silver into his arms and holds her tight against his chest, murmuring words I can’t hear into her ear. Then Roscoe plasters himself to her back and Zeph steps in close, holding her hand and giving it a squeeze.
My insides bottom out like a stone tossed into a cavern.
I have to fight to push down the seething jealousy. I might not be the first person she turns to for comfort. I get that and I understand why. I’m unreliable, I haven’t been around enough recently. And I’ve got a history of hurting her.
