Page 144 of The Light Within

“How about we move past all the murder stuff now?” Cinn pulled at his baggy hoodie, soaked with blood.

Eleanor joined them, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Right now, we need to get out of here. I’ll send people down for the bodies.” Her voice was firm, but there was a softness behind it.

Darcy offered a weak smile, brushing a hand over Julien’s hair as they pulled away from the embrace. “Come on, let’s find a way out before this place collapses on us.”

As the others began to move towards a tunnel, Cinn lingered a moment longer. He glanced at Julien, who was still resting against him, head nestled into his shoulder.

“You ready?” he asked softly, his fingers curling into Julien’s.

Julien didn’t answer right away. He looked over at the mangled remains of his father, the shadows of the past that had haunted him for so long now reduced to blood and bones. His grip on Cinn tightened, but there was no tremor in his hand. He took a slow breath, then nodded.

“Oui.” Julien whispered, his voice low but steady. “I’ve never been more ready.”

They stood, Cinn offering a shoulder for support. For a moment, they just stood there together, Julien leaning into him, both of them covered in blood and dust, but still standing. Together.

Cinn squeezed his hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

They followed the others, leaving the cavern and its darkness behind. And as they walked, hand in hand, Cinn couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, they’d finally found their way back to the light.

thirty-five

Epilogue

Six weeks later

Cinn glanced up at the trees. The first hints of life were breaking through winter’s grip. Buds, small and pale, clustered at the ends of slender branches, tiny promises of green yet to come. Shy things, barely open, with delicate, almost translucent leaves peeking out from their protective shells, hesitant but determined to face the world again.

The four of them were sitting in a courtyard near the library.

Darcy had magically produced a picnic blanket. Cinn brought cookies to share, his first attempt at a brand new recipe. Julien acquired four coffees from Café Curio for them. Elliot contributed absolutely nothing, but he’d turned up on time, so that was something.

It was the first day they’d braved the outside for lunch. Spring was coming early this year, if the sudden upturn in weather was anything to go by.

Cinn’s headphones rested around his neck, quietly playing music only he could hear. Just the way the others liked it.

His new Walkman, a gift from Julien, was a major upgrade compared to his previous one. He’d gained auto-reverse, bass boost and even had a built-in radio. Definitely worth the agony of watching his old one burn to death in a blaze of glory.

Cinn’s only complaint was that the Walkman mysteriously came with a John Coltrane cassette already inserted.

“Still no sign of the return of your motes, Julien?” asked Darcy.

“Non. Béatrice took them with her. A parting gift.”

Cinn was slightly sad he’d never get to experience her awesome power again, but shadowslipping was more than enough adventure, he supposed. He hadn’t slipped into the shadowrealm since the church, but Noir was fairly sure when he did, he wouldn’t be seeing the umbraphages and the red city ever again—they hadn’t been seen since the machine was destroyed.

Now, Noir was talking about Cinn working with the investigative department of the gendarmerie, travelling on-site with them to deliberately slip, to help gather evidence.

He’d finally be a real life superhero.

Julien had begun meeting with Noir weekly, under the guise of documenting the confounding motes. Noir had offered one theory, that his ability to access them had been triggered by excessive cortisol during the years prior. Now, it sounded like the sessions had turned more into therapy, based on what Julien had shared with Cinn.

Julien seemed a bit lighter every single morning he awoke in Cinn’s arms, before he pulled back the curtains and demanded Cinn wake up.

“Incoming,” Elliot announced, eyebrows raised.

“Afternoon.” Eleanor stared down at them, eyeing the blanket, likely wondering what the hell they were doing, trying to have a picnic in February. “I’m glad I’ve bumped into you. Saves me a job. The consortium meeting just finished, and I can share a few updates of interest. Jonathan goes to trial in March, as expected. But Viktor Sturmhart’s claim he knew nothing about the machine is going uncontested.” Eleanor’s lip curled into a sneer. “Looks like Jonathan is smart enough not to drag Viktor down with him. However, in other news, MEET will announce the new permanent director next week.”

Julien, who’d come home moaning about the carnage at MEET for the last few weeks, brightened. “Thatisgreat news! I’ve got a list longer than my arm for them.”

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