Page 29 of Under the Lion Star

“Oh, El,” I whispered, running my hands over his back.

He shook his head where it was buried between my neck and shoulder; his arms braced around my upper back to hold me in place. Not that there was any threat of me releasing him.

The minutes passed, each filled with slightly less pain than the previous, and when El finally pulled back from me, his eyes seemed a bit less troubled.

“Sorry,” he muttered, as if suddenly embarrassed.

“Follow me,” I took his hand in mine. “I want to show you something.”

My fingers laced with his as I pulled him along. He kept silent, but his grip never wavered. Over my shoulder, I glanced back at him several times, but his face remained unreadable during the length of our journey. Despite the darkness, my feet walked the familiar path until we finally reached the edge of the field where my home once stood.

Sensing my apprehension, El gave my hand a firm squeeze as I studied the flat stone from a distance. It was barely visible save for the faint glow of moonlight that reflected off the carvings.

“That’s where my house was,” I turned and looked up at him. “Where my mom died.”

“Did you make that?” He tipped his chin at the memorial stone.

“No, a neighbor did. I’ve never actually looked at it up close. I don’t know why.”

“Do you want to do it together?”

“Alright,” I offered a weak smile, but my feet remained fixed on the pathway.

“Hey,” El turned, bending slightly until we were at eye level with one another. He brushed a few strands of hair off my forehead. “I’ve got you.”

We took careful steps through the crops that surrounded us, but when we reached the stone, El knelt down. His long fingers traced the lilies that had been inscribed while he murmured an old Fjornish prayer before looking out at the stars.

“You okay?” He stood, setting his hand on my shoulder.

I nodded, unable to trust that my voice would work. The reality that this was where my mother had been stolen from me and that the person responsible might still be wandering the realm hit me in waves. Flashbacks followed, causing me to press my eyes closed as my legs threatened to give out.

“Z,” El whispered from somewhere next to me, his arm moving over my back and pulling me to his side.

The emotions shifted like ink in water, from anger to sadness and, finally, a resignation that sometimes bad things just happen for no reason at all.

“My turn to show you something,” he laced his fingers through mine once more.

As El led me away, my eyes moved slowly from the stone to where our hands were joined. I was glad that he had been the one I went with. The thought of doing it alone had always frightened me. That despite being an adult, I’d be crushed by the images of that day and lose myself to grief. At the same time, the thought of visiting with my sisters made my stomach turn. It had been bad enough to watch them all grieve. I wasn’t sure I wanted to relive it.

Seeing them cry, as they had the moment I delivered the news, was nearly as gut-wrenching as finding my mom’s body. Maybe that made me weak, but I just couldn’t do it.

El led me through a wheat field, uncaring if he stomped on the stalks as we passed them. A small grove of birch trees appeared out of the darkness.

When we entered a small clearing, I noticed the trees surrounded a lake. The water's placid surface created a mirror image of the Skolas mountains in the distance. The moonlight reflected off the few ripples caused by the soft night breeze.

El tugged on my hand, and I realized he had moved to sit facing the view before us. Our hands remained intertwined as I took a seat in the grass next to him.

“This is why I come out here,” El said, although his focus didn’t shift from the mountains. “I sit here for maybe an hour or two, but I always feel slightly rejuvenated afterward.”

“Until you’re roped into performing manual labor for old women?” I nudged his shoulder with mine, reverting to humor as I often did when situations got too serious.

“Well, yes,” he chuckled.

The moon moved across the sky; the stars situated in their place in the heavens. The bugs sang their song around us, and all El and I did was sit and take in the scene in comfortable silence.

Until I ruined it.

“Gods above!” I shouted, pointing toward the southeastern sky. “What the fuck is that?”

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