“Meriam failed to awaken my magic. I’m powerless, Cato.”
“Did that ever stop you from wreaking havoc on Luce?”
I smile, and for the first time since I woke up in Dante’s inferno, it isn’t artificial.
“Ceres should really have nicknamed you Havoc instead of Raindrop.”
His comment is a punch to the heart.
As my smile wilts, Cato rubs the back of his neck. “How insensitive to bring her up again. You must miss her.”
“Dearly,” I croak. And I do, even though, in this instant, it isn’t thoughts of Nonna that are rousing a maelstrom of emotions; it’s the memory of the vision Lore gifted me the day Marco fell.
The day I laid eyes on my biological mother for the very first time.
The day I heard her speak the name Mamma had whispered at my birth and which Nonna adopted, explaining that I’d earned it for my slight stature. But that wasn’t the origin of my name. Fallon means Raindrop in Crow, the equivalent of Goccolina.
I swallow around the lump swelling my throat as I recall the carefree morning I spent with my father in North Tavern. That morning feels like ages ago.
Whyever did you name me Raindrop, Dádhi?
He’d smiled, which had softened all the harsh angles of his face.Your mother—she . . .
She . . .?
He’d shut his eyes and balled his fingers, and I’d reached over and covered his fist to bring him back to me.
His luminous eyes, made brighter by grief, had opened and set on me.Your mother was convinced you’d take our world by storm. And you have, haven’t you, my little raindrop? She’ll be so proud.
Unlike Lore and me, my father had never lost hope to see her again.
To think he’d get her back soon.
To think Meriam saved her.
And yes, perhaps she’d done so in order to save herself, but the fact remains that my mother’s alive. My impatience to meet her takes precedence over every little worry and thought. If only I knew where she was.
Meriam knows. I’m suddenly looking forward to being used as an inkwell because that means I’ll be in Meriam’s presence. I’m not sure how I’ll go about asking if we have an audience, but I’m certain I’ll find a way. I’m good at winging things.
I can just picture Phoebus and Sybille rolling their eyes at my conviction. The thought of my friends makes my heart thump with grief. As I untie my soiled shirt, I pray they haven’t set a single toe outside the Sky Kingdom.
Cato starts to close the door but stops. “If I step out, do you promise not to try anything?”
I give him a nod, afraid that speaking any words may bind my promise to his skin and reveal my duplicity.
“Because if you did, Havoc, it won’t only be Antoni who’ll be punished.”
Sadly, I’ve no doubt that loyal Cato would have to pay for my unruliness. “I will not try anything. And is Havoc going to be a thing now?”
A smile tugs at his mouth. “It suits you.”
“I wonder what Nonna will think of this new pet name . . .”
His Adam’s apple jostles at the mention of the woman he still burns for. “She’ll undoubtedly find it fatuous. She finds most things I say fatuous.”
“No, she doesn’t. Nonna is just . . . older, Cato. She’s lived through some horrible things, and it’s disillusioned her, but that’s just a shell she wears to protect herself.” I realize I’m giving Cato dreams that Nonna may squash the minute they’re reunited, but isn’t it better to live with hope than despair? “You should really sail to Shabbe before she sheds that shell for a Shabbin male.”
“Do you honestly think she’d give me the time of day if I left you down here without a friend?”
