Page 51 of The Last De Loughrey Dynasty

I thought about arguing with him but let it go because he had a point while I had none. As soon as the helmet clipped into place, Ebony started to walk slowly towards the stable doors. In the span of a second, I swung my arms around Archer’s waist and held on tight. He surprisingly didn’t say anything about my action and continued to lead Ebony outside while I worked on controlling my trembling.

I was just a little afraid. It’d pass.

“You can close your eyes if it helps,” Archer stupidly suggested as his horse started to walk faster, almost fully galloping now.

“What if you lose control of her?” I asked anxiously, pressing my cheek against his back. In this moment, I didn’t care that I wasn’t supposed to be this close to him, that I should have some dignity and draw the line between me and the boy who’d disrespected me several times. But the fear of falling was greater.

“I won’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m certain,” he promised.

Ebony was running fast, and we were leaving the school campus. The trees blurred in front of me as she ran. What did he even want off campus? We weren’t supposed to use our sight properly away from Aquila.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to hold on tighter, but I was already holding onto Archer with everything I had, our bodies practically melting into one.

“Mai said you took the things you discovered on Samhain pretty terribly.”

I silently promised never to let Maisie join me in my misery ever again. “What was your reaction when you first realised you’d die like your great-uncle if we didn’t find a lost book with no clue as to where it might be hidden?” I shot back in disbelief, because who wouldn’t take this news terribly? “I’m sorry, but next time, I’ll throw a bash where I’ll share my testament and the flowers I’d like on my tomb.”

His body shook with quiet laughter, and I peeked through my closed lids, taking in our surroundings. We weren’t on campus anymore, or at least I guessed we weren’t because I’d never seen this place before. Archer was walking Ebony across a field that looked like it hadn’t been mowed since last summer. Mountains of forest were visible from our location, and I had to admit this place felt like I was in a fantasy novel—minus the dragons and goblins.

As much as Aquila, Owley, and everything surrounding these places scared me, the terror they formed had its own kind of beauty.

“Death doesn’t scare me. I’ve never thought of myself as having weekly nightmares about the idea of disappearing.” Archer’s answer gave me a slight chill. Maybe it was the fact that a boy who didn’t fear death was leading me into the middle of nowhere.

“Death is supposed to scare you. We’re taught from a young age that we don’t know what awaits us beyond the veil of the dead. Possibly, you’ll live through hell every second after this life.”

“Maybe I’ll live in heaven, in a place where every soul exists in equality,” he replied coolly. “Life is only ever heaven if you’re at the top of the food chain, Dorothee. And that’s what we’re not, and never will be. I’m aware there are people suffering far worse than I could ever imagine. But suffering isn’t comparable. We’re a disgrace. People paint us as crazy, worthless to stand at their side while others are watching. This whole never-ending cycle started with our parents looking into the eyes of their child with the burning sensation that you’re their greatest disappointment.”

His words left me at a loss.

“If Death knocked on your door, informing you that he’d like to claim your soul by nightfall, who would you run to first? What would you do on your last day walking among the living?” he asked, the wind brushing my hair out of my eyes as Ebony ran faster.

I thought about his question, and a sudden wave of sadness hit me. My heart ached when no answer came within seconds.

There should be an answer. I should shout names, activities, perhaps a bucket list. But my mind was empty.

I could spend my last hours with my mother and father, but my parents wouldn’t suffer from the loss of me.

How can you miss something that’s been a burden on your heart all your life?

There were no friends, no brother or sister, not even a lover I could cling to when death reached for me.

Knowledge had kept me at bay most of my life. Learning and craving structure, answers were my lifeline. The realisation wasalmost sad. I was seventeen, and my life held no value to me or anyone else.

“I’d ask him to tell me a tale,” I answered.

“A tale from death himself?”

“Death holds the answer to destiny and the fate of the soul he claims. I’d like to know the person I could have been if I’d been the perfect daughter.”

“What would bring you his answer in the afterlife? You can’t change a path once you’ve already set foot on it,” Archer asked.

“Peace, perhaps,” I breathed. “If he told me a tale about a little girl who’d been cared for by her father after she’d fallen and scraped her knees, a little girl who got to hear her mother’s advice on girlhood, I’d be a saddened soul but accept death in the end anyway. But if he told me that the little girl would have been just as pained by her parents’ ignorance as she had been with who I am, I’d find peace in the knowledge that it was never my fault.”

I like to think it had never been me, but rather my parents, who couldn’t have given me their love in any parallel universe we might exist as a family.

---