Page 71 of A Grave Not Made For Mourning
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The next day when I beckon Lucian, he tries to get Azaire, and I freeze.No. This weapon is more dangerous than a few Fire Folk welders. It got my mother killed. It’s related to the most ambiguous evil our universe knows—the Arcanes.
I think of Azaire’s will, his flightless wings to Lucian’s steel.
He can’t be involved.
It’s why I ran.
“No,” I say. I wish I was shocked by the pleading tone that comes out of me. “It’s not safe.”
You’re so expressive, Little Thorn.
“Is this a romantic thing or an argument?” Lucian teases. The worst part is that he’s pleased with himself. Thinks of himself as funny, and not smug. “I suppose they’d both stem from romance—”
“Neither.” I reach into my bag, pulling out the piece of parchment that Calista tried to tear. I hold it up, waiting for Lucian’s curiosity to grow and his arrogance to subside. “But you’ll want to see this.”
His eyebrows rise, a small smile curving his lips as he contemplates what the paper could be.
When he walks in the direction of the Royals’ floor, I follow, and when we sit at the dusty table, I slide the paper across the surface. Lucian looks at what Calista tried to tear.
He looks at the weapon—and he is so uninterested.
It angers me.
Hewanted me to do this.Hepulled me into this.
But Ma is what made me stay. It is not entirely fair of me to put the blame onto Lucian.
I snatch the paper away from him, making the motion to tear it—showing him what Calista showed me. But he feelsnothingat the thought of me destroying the one thing we know about this Weapon.
I want to shake him and scream.
I take a deep breath. “You were right.” I set the paper back on the table. “They glamoured the blueprint because they couldn’t destroy it. My mother must have tampered with it, and the Royals retaliated.”
I choke back my tears as best I can manage. Lucian looks at me—reallylooks at me this time. He’s finally interested in what I have to say.
“Retaliated?” he asks. “How?”
Pointing at the bottom of the page, I say, “The destroy-by date? Two days before a monster killed my mother—monsters that hadn’t attacked for centuries.”
Lucian looks up, his gaze locking with mine, and it’s like being hit by the pernipe that killed Ma. He knows what it is to lose a parent, I realize. He carries the ache in the shape of his heart, the creaking of his bones. The hollow space it leaves between the two. He knows the world can rip everything from you without mercy.
That’show I’ve misjudged him.
He knows how it feels to have people more powerful than him take everything he has.
He knows what it is to lose it all.
But I don’t understand how.
Have we been walking side by side this entire time?
Slowly, Lucian asks, “That’s why you don’t want Azaire involved?”
He’s walking down the same path as me. His emotions close to my own.
For the first time, we’re perfectly aligned. He wants to protect Azaire. So do I.
