“Get out of my sight,” commanded Fyar, his voice going cold and hollow. “I’lldealwith you later.”
Killian sagged.
Killian lingered in the archway of his room. Hovering.
Kade sat in the middle of Killian’s bed, his knees tucked to his chest, face turned away, staring absently out the window, watching the rain pour.
Rain drops ran rivers down the window panes, the sky dark beyond the safety of Killian’s bedroom walls. Kade hadn’t moved for hours, hadn’t talked, hadn’t cried, just sat. Silent.
It had been raining since the end of the vigil.
Fyar was showing his grief, chasing everyone inside and stopping all festivities to mourn with no distractions.
Killian didn’t know how to help. Kade had lost too much lately. His mother and now the first friend he could call his own. No matter Killian’s own feelings towards Porthos, he mourned for Kade’s sake.
Kade had moved like the dead on the walk back to the palace. Empty and hollow. Barely acknowledging Killian’s presence or even his absence. Every movement sluggish and slow.
Kade didn’t even blink when Killian crawled into bed and curled around him. He laid a hand on Kade’s back, feeling the ridges of his spine. Killian wanted to touch him, to comfort him, to let him know that he was there, however he needed him.
It was a long time before Kade spoke. “He’s dead. He’s really dead. I couldn’t save him.” His voice cracked. “He was my friend and I couldn’t save him.”
Killian’s arms squeezed tight, as if he could pull Kade into his chest. He pressed his cheek to Kade’s and held on. “I know. I know.”
He held Kade through the worst of it, through the wracking sobs and pitiful whines and the questions.Why? Why? Why?Kade was shaking and Killian felt useless in the face of his grief.
When it was over and done, Kade went back to being empty. A far away look in his eyes.
It was haunting.
Killian honestly didn’t know which was worse, Kade’s crying or this.
A long time later, Kade turned to Killian slowly, like he was finally seeing him. He said, “Hi. You’re here.” Then, he ran the pad of his thumb over the bags under Killian’s eyes. “You look exhausted. What happened?”
“Don’t worry about me,” Killian said, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch. “What about you? Are you alright? What do you need?”
“I watched my friend die, Killi. I don’t think I’ll ever be alright again.”
“You will,” Killian said. Sure. “However horrible it is, this feeling will pass.”
“I tried to save him. I tried so hard. But my magic—my healing—I wasn’t enough.”
“Stop. Stop right there,” Killian commanded softly. His arms tightened. “You did everything right, but sometimes even magic isn’t enough.”
“Hismagic should’ve been.”
Killian closed his eyes. There was the anger. “Let’s not do this, Kade. Please.”
“It should’ve worked.”
“You tried. Hokda tried. Fyar tried. If you three couldn’t—”
“Fyar’s magic is unlike anything else, it doesn’t have limits the way mine or Hokda’s does.It should have worked.Don’t look at me like that. Don’t look at me like I’m crazy.”
“You’re not crazy.” Killian clenched his jaw. “You’re grieving. It’s understandable that you want someone to blame.”
“I know who’s to blame!”
“If you say anything other than that fucking boar then I don’t think you do,” Killian snapped. He took a deep breath and worked to rein in his flaring temper. How many times would he have to repeat himself before Kade dropped this? “I understand this pain, Kade, but you’re going too far. You’re looking for smoke in mirrors, seeing things that aren’t there and you’re going to get yourself killed. I mean, what the hell were you thinking going after Fyar like that? In public?”
