Page 29 of The Rebel Seer

“They had to be soldiers. They tried to hide the kids and when they couldn’t, they raised them to be a marvelous unit who love and care about each other.”

His eyes darken. “Yes, and that is my mother and brother’s fault.”

This is well-worn ground. “And you are angry with them.”

“I have considered killing them both.”

I sigh and move into his space again, placing a hand on his chest. It’s good to acknowledge the impulse even if I know he won’t follow through with it. “What else do you feel?”

“It’s wrong. It’s all wrong, Zoey. It’s not supposed to be this way.” He grinds the words out, his discomfort plain.

I can’t care about his discomfort now. “I need you to think about this, my love. Don’t tell me now. I want you to sit with the question for a few days. Have you felt this before? This feeling, this all-encompassing, drowning feeling. If you have, what name did you give it?” It took me a while to name this feeling. This emotion that threatened to take my heart. But I had to come to this conclusion myself. Knowing what was truly ruling me, saying the name plainly, made it easier to deal with. I need my husband to come to the revelation on his own. “Now tell me what you sense from Shy. Does Bris have any thoughts? What could we be missing? What power would tempt Arawn into being willing to help us?”

I’ve been asking the question since we met with the crone. Shy is good at what she does. I know her powers are impressive, but I fail to see how Arawn would need her. He can already talk to the dead. I’m asking the question now because I think my husband could use a few moments to calm down.

His eyes change and Bris reaches for my hand, bringing it up to his lips. “You are handling him so well, Zoey.”

Tears pierce my eyes and I move into his arms, feeling safer than I did before. “Only because I’m already on the other side. Sort of.”

I feel him sigh and kiss my hair. “I think it will be a long time before we’re truly on the other side, but you are being strong for them all, and you will get Rhys through this trip to Faery. I believe you are correct and he is scared. His fear comes out as anger, and it’s easier to protect Shy than to protect himself. Though you should understand he will do anything to protect Shy. Devinshea doesn’t want to believe that Rhys is old enough and mature enough to take a goddess.”

“Because it’s proof of our loss,” I whisper, holding him.

“He needs more time,” Bris replies, his Irish accent soothing. “I hope being in Faery, seeing the damage his mother did, will make him rethink his stance. He loves them. He loves them so much.”

“I know.”

“And he loves Shy because we can feel Rhys’s love for her,” Bris explains quietly. “It’s written in his magic. Devinshea is being stubborn. He feels it and it hurts that he didn’t get to see them meet, to send them off on dates and worry about them breaking the rules. He didn’t get to have talks about sex and how sacred it is. He didn’t get to tease them and have Shahidi come to dinners. He didn’t get to watch you get close to her. He will come to the proper conclusion. He will call this ache by its name and then he can begin to heal.”

Grief. That is this feeling’s true name. My husband mourns those twelve years, but it’s coming out as denial and anger. This feeling, this pit that opened inside him, is loss. I realize what we’re doing and step back. “We shouldn’t talk about this. He has to figure it out himself.”

Bris’s eyes glow in the dim light. “He is resting. It’s something we’ve started to do over the years. When we agree, we can suppress the other so private conversations can be had. He knows this is something I worry about. It is a sign of our respect that he allows this.”

“It is a sign of his love,” I correct. “We love you. You are a part of us.”

A beatific smile lights his face. It’s so odd how different his smile is from Devinshea’s. How I’ve come to know all the differences and similarities between them. “And you and Dev and Daniel and our children are everything to me. Which is why I need you to understand there is no other woman for Rhys, but I worry unless she finds her true power, she will not be able to choose him.”

“Do you sense this power?”

“In a way. Our powers are different, so I can’t explain it fully. In some ways our powers seem oppositional. But there is a connection I cannot name,” Bris explains. “I think Arawn might be able to shed some light on what is simmering beneath her surface. She was young when she lost her parents, who could have guided her into her power. Harry did what he could, and I know Lily and the witches of Frelsi tried to help, but by then she was locked into what she believes are her limits. Perhaps a bit afraid of what other power she owns.”

“I think so, too.” I’ve studied her a bit and had some dealings with other mediums. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone with Shy’s ability to talk to the dead. The mediums my father and I have dealt with need rituals and the trappings of a séance to get a bit of information from a spirit. Shy sees them everywhere and has long conversations with them. Could Nim be right? Do you think Arawn is looking for his old shit?”

Bris snorts. “You mean the Golden Torc or the Cauldron of Rebirth? Then yes, I think Shy might be helpful in finding them. The dead might be able to feel the objects even though they’re hidden to living eyes.”

“Is it dangerous if Arawn gets the stuff back?” I don’t want to exchange one tyrant for another.

“He can’t use them in his current form, but he could be worried about them being out in the world. He could simply miss them,” Bris says in a way that makes me think he knows what Arawn is feeling.

“Did you have…things that were important to you?” I never asked about what it was like for Bris to give up his corporeal body. Never asked what his life was like before.

“I had a magic scythe. I could swing it once and the whole field was harvested. I miss her. She was a gift from Brighid,” he says with a hint of a smile. “But Arawn’s tools were made of parts of him. So he might be feeling nostalgic. He might be worried they will be found and misused. Or he might think the cauldron could swing the tide of war if he can find it and put the pieces back together. We will not know until we meet with him.”

“They’re coming back,” Rhys calls out over the space between us.

I take a deep breath and move into the group of our young people. “Guys, I know you’ve heard stories about Faery, but whatever you’ve heard, I need you to be prepared for something much more dangerous. It is beautiful and deadly. Don’t trust anyone in there who is not one of our party. Keep your eyes and ears open and mouth shut if you can.”

Cassie’s eyes go wide. “You make it sound super scary, Aunt Z. Dad said it was fun.”

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