Page 129 of The Thirteenth Child
“It sounds delicious,” I lied. It seemed the easiest kindness I could offer. “Would you like me to cut it?” I wandered over to the credenza where the towering confection rested, keenly aware of how Merrick stayed behind, swaying from foot to foot.
“Are we truly not going to talk about it?” he called, making no move to come closer. “This past year. The…incident that led to this estrangement?”
“Estrangement,” I repeated as my fingers danced over the knife and serving wedge.
“I haven’t seen you in an entire year, Hazel.”
And whose fault is that?
The words balanced on the tip of my tongue, but I kept them back. It wouldn’t serve either of us to have them said aloud.
“I didn’t know you wanted to see me.”
“Of course I did.” He wrung his hands in an anxious gesture so ill-befitting the Dreaded End that I nearly smiled. “I’ve missed you, Hazel,” he admitted. “You’re the only one I…It’s been a very long time to go without seeing my goddaughter.”
“Then why did you stay away? It’s not as though I can go afteryou.”
“I didn’t think you’d want to see me,” he pointed out in a near echo of my excuse.
I wanted to laugh. Merrick had never once taken my desires intoaccount. He’d whisked me here and there on whims he never bothered to explain. He decided when to visit, never wondering if it would be convenient for me. He’d laid out the entire course of my life before I was born, even ensuring that that life would go on for as many extra years as he wanted.
I wanted to scream all this at him, wanted to let the accusations burst from my chest with thunderous force. I was right, I knew I was, and I just wanted him to see that. To admit that.
But I could feel his mood darkening, setting my blood on edge, and I swallowed every trace of righteous indignation.
“Cake?” I asked, taking up the utensils. “It looks like your bestyet.”
He made a grunt of acknowledgment and finally stepped closer.
“No candles this year,” I observed, then winced at my stupidity.
“I couldn’t watch you blow them out. Not after…” Merrick sighed.
His honest admission was painful to witness.
We couldn’t go on like this, slicing each other with daggered confessions so sharp the cuts weren’t felt until the blood began tofall.
Merrick wouldn’t be the one to change. He’d spent countless millennia being exactly who he was, uncontested, undisputed.
It would have to be me.
I pressed the tip of the knife into the table’s surface, marring the wood. It hurt too much to continue with the sham of a celebration, but I also couldn’t forfeit the pretense altogether. “Merrick.” I swallowed. “I owe you an apology.”
He sniffed.
“I never truly thought about how my actions affected you. Inever considered everything you went through to get those candles. My rejection of one must have seemed like such an insult.”
He licked his lips but said nothing, letting me flounder in my misery.
“What…whatdidyou have to do for those candles?” I dared to ask.
He looked away from me, out the window, and the afternoon light played off his two-toned eyes, causing them to refract light like those of a predator slinking in the dark. “There was a trade,” he said after a long moment. “With the Holy First.” He allowed himself a very small smile. “After your father’s refusal of her, she almost didn’t grant my request, but I was quite persistent.”
“What did you trade?”
Merrick let out a very long hiss of air. “What I deal in best.”
“Death?” I guessed.
