She will learn the truth and leave you too.
They always do.
Ever and Gryffin are the only ones who have stayed.
And my Biscuits.
Still, I will not conceal the truth from Nia again. I have stolen her time and attention before. If she chooses me, then she should know all of me. “Oh, yes. I am quite serious. I used to cry all the time. When I would fall or if my stomach hurt.” The berry she told me not to eat was hardly the first I tasted without advisement.
“When I was left alone.” Which happened often because I cried so much and that only made me cry harder. “My parents were very disappointed that the only youngling they were allowed was so broken.” No one else in camp cried nearly as much as me.
“Of course you cried. It’s what children do. The way they communicate.”
“You only say this because you do not appreciate how loudly I could wail. My mother claimed my screams would wake the dead from beyond the veil. She used to plug her ears with cloth so she could sleep.”
Her jaw gapes. She is no doubt in shock from this news. My lungs have always been very strong. “It doesn’t matter if you screamed down the heavens, Maddox. Your parents’ job was to comfort you.”
“You are Seelie; you do not understand. Unseelie parents do not have time for comfort. A father must hunt to keep his familyalive. A mother must keep her younglings quiet so the wolves do not find them.” My mother would always remind me of the danger I put us in when my cries were too piercing.
“I understand your lands are dangerous—probably more dangerous than I can imagine—but it was still your parents’ responsibility to take care of you.”
“They did.”
“They abandoned you when you were four!”
“Why are you shouting at me?”
“Because I’m angry. How dare they leave you behind. If I ever have the displeasure of meeting them, I’m going to tell them exactly how awful they are. You deserved someone to take care of you, and I’m sorry you never had that.”
“I learned to take care of myself.” It was difficult at first, mostly because killing to survive made me desperately sad, but I stopped weeping over it. Some small part of me thought maybe my parents would come back and want me again when they saw how little I cried as I grew.
I am still waiting.
“It’s not the same,” she says with a shake of her head.
It is not the same, but?—
She throws her arms around my waist, pinning my own arms to my sides. “What are you doing?”
“Hugging you.”
“Why do you do this?”
“Because you need it.” She squeezes a little tighter. “And maybe I need it too.”
I extricate my arms and fold Nia into my embrace. She is correct. I did need this.
The rushing river slows to a lazy crawl as it winds through the canyon. Where does it lead? Is there an end? A beginning?
Nia tightens her grip on my fingers. “Would it be all right if we stopped?”
I am powerless to deny her anything. “Of course. Are your feet hurting?” Her tiny slippers are not made for trekking this sort of terrain, and yet she has not once complained.
“A little. Mostly, I just want to bathe.” Her nose wrinkles. “I feel gross.”
“You could not be gross even if you were covered in fish guts.”
“We really need to work on your compliments.” She says this with a laugh, so I think my compliment worked just fine.
