Barrett stiffens.
“But that’s about to change,” Hiram continues. “Because I’m finished.” He turns to his mother. “Consider your access to me and my son revoked.” Then he faces his father. “I don’t want anything fromeitherof you.”
“Hiram,” Simran tries. “Be reasonable—”
“This is me being reasonable,” Hiram says, cold and final. “Get out.”
Thirteen
Beneath a bright, cloudless sky, Antaris watches cows and sheep graze in the pasture behind the school while Veda marks his growing fascination with every little gasp and smile. Only when Peter arrives with a tiny guest does he finally tear his eyes away. The moment it’s placed on the blanket, the kitten wobbles over to Antaris, who scoops it up with a grin.
“He seems to be gaining weight properly. We’ve been feeding him gruel,” Peter says, kneeling beside Veda’s outstretched legs. “The mom was probably feral, but I don’t think any of the barn cats will take him in. I’ll keep him until we figure something out.”
Veda nods silently.
“What do you want to name him, Antaris?” Peter asks.
He goes still, looking to Veda for permission.
“You don’t have to decide today,” she assures. “When you’re ready, you can name him whatever you like.”
Antaris’s slow, hesitant smile softens Peter’s expression. The little boy brings the kitten to his face, tilting his head to study it. He nods, gets up, and carries the kitten a few feet away, gently placing it on the grass to let it explore. He watches closely, not letting it stray far.
“Khadijah and I take turns waking up to feed him, yet he merely tolerates us.”
“Bitter much?”
“No, but clearly that’s his cat.” Peter shakes his head. “Poor Hiram.”
Veda tears her gaze from the adorable sight. “Why?”
“He’s allergic.”
Antaris is on his hands and knees, gently encouraging the kitten to walk. He looks happy. Laughter bubbles in her chest at the thought of Hiram sneezing uncontrollably.
“Oh, and for you.” Peter hands her the bag and stands. “I need to take the kitten back for a little while to go to a vet appointment,” he says to Antaris. “But I’ll bring him back soon, and maybe something else, too.” Eventually he leaves with a promise to bring the kitten back tomorrow after class.
Antaris settles beside Veda to share carrots and celery. He angles his face toward the sun, looking more childlike than she’s seen before.
“I have a gift for you,” she says.
His eyes open, head tilting with curiosity. The expression shifts to confusion when he sees the contents.
“It’s a lantern.” The same as hers, it’s made from brass with a rope handle. Veda whispers the activation spell, “Voster.”
Antaris is enraptured as the lantern floats from her hand to him. She looks on as it hovers until he takes hold of the handle. Light appears inside. He gives her another confused look.
“That means the spell has been activated by your touch. The lantern will draw light from the sun, and it will always follow you.” Veda offers him a warm smile. “I have one just like it. My dad gave it to me when I was little. He told me to carry it in the woods in case I got lost, and keep it in my room so it could catch all my bad dreams and sadness. He said when I’ve finally caught everything, when I no longer need the light, and I’m ready to let it go, I can release it into the sky.”
Antaris frowns and tries to hand it back.
“Oh no, this is yours. I’ve got mine,” Veda says. “I’m not ready to let it go just yet. I need the light a little longer.”
Sadness clouds his hazel eyes. He doesn’t need to tell her he understands why she holds on to hers. There’s nothing like having her emotions cracked open by a silent child’s gaze.
Veda nudges him. “There’s something else in the bag for you.”
Antaris sets the lantern between them. Veda moves it away as he pulls out the last item: a book on beginner’s sign language.
