Page 80 of Envious Of Fire
There is some joke in there that Tristan sees regarding the appetites of demons and how they may not be refined enough to enjoy finer meats. But he can’t utter it, wondering if he does too often deflect serious matters with humor. Is it a habit he’s always had? Picked up from his long-dead mortal parents?
Tristan’s mind inches elsewhere.If you believe in demons, he says thoughtfully, carefully,then you must also believe in angels.Everything in nature is delicately balanced.
“Then what is the good that balances you?”
We balance our own darkness with good deeds, decides Tristan.
“Says the person who doesn’t believe in karma.”
I will find someone skilled in prosthetics to make you a new—
“Kaleb believes in angels,” she cuts him off. “Did you know his whole family died in a fire? Have you ever bothered to ask? He was the lone survivor. He believes he was saved by a real angel the day of the fire … he told me. He even described the angel.”
An angel.
Tristan wonders if Kaleb remembers the face of that angel.
Remembers him.
He takes a step toward the bed.An imagination can be one of the greatest comforts to a person who has spent their life inthe cells…
“What if it wasn’t his imagination? You want me to believe in angels, too? What if an angel really did save him?”
Raya…
“He described him, too. The angel. He said …” Her eyes go far away. “He said that the angel …” Her words slow.
Tristan doesn’t like the shifting expression on her face.It isn’t important.Really, I think you shouldn’t give up on a new arm.I will take the blame for its disappearance…
“Blond hair, bright blond …” She sits up, voice changing. “An angel with bright blond hair and … and his eyes …”
Can you imagine your new arm? It could be made of gold.Of black diamonds.Fairy dust.
“And eyes the soft, blue color of a morning haze …”
Kaleb is imaginative…imaginative, creative, musical…
“How long has Kaleb been in the cells, did you say?” She slips from the bed at once, to her feet, thoughts racing past her eyes as she paces. “Twenty-odd years? Wasn’t that it? You told me once. Or perhaps he did …”
You need your rest, Raya.Please, just lie back down and—
“The same amount of time you’ve been gone … when you met Kyle … Kyle, who also lost his … h-his family …” Raya’s lips hang open as her crazed eyes find Tristan’s. Her chest rises and falls with her hurried breaths. “I never put this together before. Why am I putting this together right now? In this moment?”
You aren’t well.
“Why have you been keeping him hidden? Kaleb? This one special Blood? I asked once why he is important to you.”
Raya… Tristan reaches to hug her.
She slips away, stepping back. “Tristan. Answer me.”
He bows his head.Raya…
“Stop saying my name. It’s a coincidence, right? That the two look alike? Tell me I’m crazy.” She staggers backwards.“You’re the angel he saw. He remembers you … but he hasn’t yet realized itwas you. It was more than just a resemblance I saw in Kaleb’s face … He and Kyle … they’re … they’rebrothers…!”
Each time he attempts to approach her, she backs away more, the two caught in a slow, circular dance.Raya, please…
“And Kyle? Does he—? No, he can’t possibly know,” she answers herself, “otherwise he would’ve—They don’t know the other is alive! You kept Kaleb here! Youknewof it! Youensuredit, keeping them apart … How—Howcouldyou??”
