Page 77 of A Ballad of Phantoms and Hope
“What’s your point?” I ask.
Jericho laughs and slaps his hand across my back. “My point is that he’s not dwelling around his stone. His mortal bonds. Neither are you. Or Yelina. Even me.”
His eyes are calm and patient.
“We are trudging on. Through the pain, through the despair. But we are not forgotten, Nevers. We will never be forgotten. You don’t think Wynn and Liam keep you with them every day? They probably see you in the clouds, in the breeze and stars. You are everywhere.”
My stomach sinks with guilt. How could I even think for a moment that they’d forgotten me? I lift my head and find reassurance and guidance in Jericho’s.
“You know what?”
He smirks. “What?”
“You’re a really good fucking counselor.”
Jericho throws his head back and laughs. The sound is rich and circles me. “You’re just now realizing it?”
I shake my head. “No, but I thought I ought to tell you at least once.” That earns me a slight grin.
We share the silence that follows, taking deep breaths and enjoying the crisp, foggy morning, our last together.
Yelina appears a few minutes later with three coffee cups. When she sees our relaxed shoulders and calm expressions, she smiles.
We sit amongst the gravestones as we sip our drinks, sharing stories of our time at Harlow and all the times after. Yelina leans into Jericho and presses a kiss to his lips. Warmth spreads between them and I can’t help but miss Ophelia.
Our love was made for this life and the next.
“What will you do now, Lan?” Yelina has her arms wrapped around Jericho’s chest, cheek resting on his shoulder.
The two of them wait for me to respond.
I let my gaze find a murder of crows, watching us quietly from the next row of gravestones over. Crows always fall silent when phantoms are near. It’s a subtle sign for anyone who dares to seek us.
“I’ve decided to find her. No matter how long it takes,” I say and as I do, hope soars in my heart. I won’t let her become like the phantom at the cathedral. Faceless and somber. Left to haunt her opera house alone.
Not my rose.
“Good. And then what will you do?” Jericho pushes.
“Then I’m going to take her with me to the other side.”
Yelina stands and runs to me, knocking me off the gravestone and hugging me tightly. “It's about time, you idiot,” she whispers, her voice sounding strained. “I can’t bear the thought of you being here alone.”
I hug her just as tight. “You don’t need to worry about me. I promise I’ll be okay.” She leans back and wipes her tears. Jericho helps us back up and we walk to the pier as rain begins pelting down on us.
We stay until the sun reaches mid-sky, and then we say our goodbyes. It makes me nervous to think about what’s on the other side. Will I see them again? What if we don’t cross paths like we’re hoping? What if nothing awaits us?
I bury those thoughts, trying to look happy for my friends as they turn to leave.
I reach out and grab Jericho’s wrist. He stops and turns his head back at me lazily; kindness beams softly in his gaze. His soul feels tired, ready for the embarkment.
“Jericho,” I say with emotion rising in my throat.
He only smiles more endearingly and says, “Do not be afraid.”
“But I am.”
“That’s a good sign. You’re ready to move on.”
