Page 115 of Crown of Wings and Whispers

They weren’t paying any attention to us, so I took the chance to learn Griffon’s reaction to seeing the spirit of his father. He and Archer had their arms locked around each other, expressing emotions the spirits could not.

I looked at Persi and was relieved to see I wasn’t the only hot mess in the room. Struck by a sudden thought, I leaned close to Anrai and asked a favor. He nodded and gestured again.

“Griffon. Archer.” I waved them closer, then turned and watched another nebulous form become Daphne Carew. Her eyes lit up when she found the king, her father, standing beside her. Then she saw me. For a while, we stared at each other. We didn’t need words.

She was sorry.

I forgave her for so many reasons.

Archer lifted his arm to reach past me, but Griffon grabbed him so he didn’t get too close to the threshold, where death waited on the other side.

“Archer, you have the power now,” I said. “It’s all up to you. You can bring her back.”

Archer sighed. “Nay. I dinnae reckon that’s what it was meant for.” He smiled at his sister, and she smiled back. Then she spared a smile for Griffon, who struggled to clear the emotion from his throat.

Griffon cleared his throat. “I believe she’d rather…go with Father.”

Daphne’s eyes widened and she nodded.

“Is this how this place is supposed to work?” I asked Anrai.

“This is what Moire intended, yes.”

“Does I have to take them now, or can I see my friends home first?”

Anrai smiled. “The only way to leave this death behind is via DeNoy. They will be here when you return for them.”

Each word he spoke added weight to my shoulders. This was what Moire intended. This is what I was made for. Moire needed Gloir, and I was Gloir’s ride home. I worried I wouldn’t be allowed to come back, though, from this Uber ride to another freaking planet. But if I spoke my worries out loud, Griffon wouldn’t let me go. And I knew, somewhere in my soul, I had to do this.

Wickham gestured to get Afi’s attention. “Will ye not go with yer brother?”

The man’s head shook slowly. “I have done all I was meant to do. I am ready for my Nothing. And Wickham?”

“Aye?”

“She’ll make a grandSeanair.” Both Afi and Wickham turned to Persi. We all followed their gaze.

Archer laughed. “A fittin’ holder of a Naming Power, I’d say.”

Persi and Wickham stared each other down and I had the impression the two of them had discussed this possibility before. Then she and Kitch had a long silent exchange. After a minute, she turned back to Wickham and relented with a nod.

He nodded back. “So let it be done,” he whispered, and the white mist climbed out of him like he was an amusement car. First one limb, then another, then the rest of it. When it was free of him, Wickham shuddered, then tipped his head back and rolled his shoulders as if getting accustomed to his own body again.

The mist floated to Persi, grew a little denser, a little more human in shape, then bowed deeply. Instead of straightening, though, it dropped to swirl around her feet and slowly disappeared. She leaned on Kitch while she wiggled one boot and then the other. “I’m sure it’s in there somewhere.”

Watching Persi clutch at different parts of her body, each higher than the last, I could easily imagine that mist moving through her, spreading up to her neck. When she started gasping for air, Wickham was suddenly in front of her, pulling her hands away from her throat, using a soothing tone to remind her to breathe.

She suddenly collapsed, but it was Kitch who caught her.

“She’s all right,” Wickham crooned. “I promise, nothin’s amiss. It happened to me just this way.” He looked over his shoulder at me. “There’s room. Maybe it’s time to call yer dragon.”

But we weren’t done.

I turned back at the spirits. The brothers were sharing the same genuinely affectionate look Afi had given Wickham, then the formerSeanairsearched our faces and foundArcher. “Nephew, I am ready.”

Archer nodded to Anrai. “Do it. Move Afi Cean More…to Nothingness.”

A slow peaceful smile, and then he was gone.

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