“Requiems are the only thing I can give them,” Percy said. “It’s kind of like . . . songs extend their life. Immortalize them.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
He shifted to face me. “Think of every statue of the Maiden. Every famous bard and writer. They’ve lived long past their deaths. People still utter their name. Songs are like that. Immortal, even if we’re not.”
I nodded. The despair of my previous life had been, in part, knowing no one would attend my funeral. No one would remember my name.
Gone, as though I’d never existed.
“Have you written yourself a requiem?” I asked.
“No.” Percy frowned.
“You should. We’d all be happy to raise it to legend.”
“Hm.” His frown slowly faded, twisting into a smirk. “Now, I like the sound of that. I can’t live to see the future, but maybe . . .”
“Maybe something we leave behind can.”
He grinned. “You’ll need one, too. I’ll be busyin the days ahead.”
“Let’s get to work, then.” I leaned back and folded my hands. “I’d like to help craft my legacy.”
“You could be my partner. All the best bards have tragic stories. Beautiful art cries out from wounded souls. You fit the bill and then some.”
“Maybe I can drum.” I chuckled.
Tilting his head, Percy tested a few chords. “Which notes suityou?” He murmured.
Lying my head against the pillow, I watched Percy with a smile. But a newfound fear boiled inside me. Fear of the shortening hall, of the dwindling sand in the hourglass.
Maybe, with time, the fear would fade into acceptance, and I’d face my fate with strength.
Or maybe the fear would linger, growing ever stronger, until the day came.
34
Eleos
Ididn’t know how long I’d been standing by the channel, staring into the water. The moon had risen well into the sky, and the beginnings of dawn appeared on the horizon. Hours, I supposed.
I’d never felt this way before.
Empty.
Deep down, I knew I shouldn’t have left Aethra. But I couldn’t bring myself to return.
Footsteps rapped on the stone road, but I didn’t turn. Didn’t look up.
Didn’t care.
I caught red hair in my peripheral vision, shoulder-length and neatly kept. Phaedrus.
“It’s not wise,” he said quietly, “to be out here while we’re wanted fugitives.”
“I couldn’t stay in there any longer,” I responded shortly.
Sighing, Phaedrus folded his arms and turned toward me. “I know what you’re feeling.”
