Page 51 of When the Wicked Sing
Spiro shook their head, unable to meet her eyes. “I don’t know about that. Some would disagree and say it was cowardly. Although, all I did was stop trying to be all that I was expected to be,” they replied with a shrug.
“It’s a good thing I don’t care how others view it,” she chuckled. “I respect your choice and am grateful you shared this with me.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for asking.” The village leader smiled at her. “And thank you for coming down here with me.”
Mariana glanced around the room, admiring the paintings. “I can see why you wanted to show me.” She swallowed hard as she thought of her sister. “Astra would have loved it here.”
“Perhaps one day, after you’ve found her, you can bring her here, show it to her.”
Mariana turned her head toward the leader. “You’d allow me to come back?”
Spiro smiled down at her. “Of course. It’s a bit of a challenge getting here, so you may want to request the help of a certainMocanus, but I have a feeling he’d be willing to bring you back.”
Mariana knew they meant Dax and began to wonder what he had told them while she was passed out. “He’s a bit of an enigma. I never know what he’s thinking,” Mariana admitted.
“Well, I can say with certainty that he’s never brought anyone here before. You are the first. And truthfully, I’m glad he did. If he hadn’t …” Spiro’s words trailed off, and they sighed.
“I might not be alive.”
Spiro gave her a short, sad nod. “And you might not have been given the chance to save your sister.”
Mariana glanced down at her hands, remembering how Dax had made her form a fist.
Warriors were strong; no matter the bruises, the scars, the pain inflicted upon them, they always got back up. Even that lone warrior in the painting had found a way to keep going. Broken and alone, yet alive with purpose.
Mariana fisted her hands, remembering the words of her people:From ruin, we rise.
Chapter 27
Daxsighedasheapproached the council room, the weight of his responsibilities pressing heavily on his shoulders. The moment he stepped inside, the spicy, warm scent of incense flooded his senses, reminding him of home and times long past.
“Daxon,” Spiro greeted warmly and stepped toward him with open arms. He smiled as he approached, both their faces lighting up with genuine affection. The two embraced, one hand behind the other’s head, bringing their foreheads together with their eyes closed. They stood together in silence for a brief moment, a wordless exchange of comfort and strength. Dax could feel the energy his parent radiated, a bright light chasing away the shadows within his soul.
When they stepped apart, the shadows embraced him once again, creeping back into the corners of his mind.
“How did it go with Mari?” he asked, his voice barely concealing his concern.
“Good. She took the news well and understands what’s happened. I took her back to the clinic so she could rest. I’m gladyou’re both here, though I wish the circumstances were different.”
Dax nodded in agreement, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small, sad smile. “Thank you for healing her and for your hospitality.”
Spiro’s face fell, their expression tinged with sadness. “You speak to me as though I’m a stranger. It’s been too long since you’ve been home.”
Dax held back his groan, feeling a pang of guilt. “I’ve already heard enough from Kenna. I don’t need another lecture.”
He stepped away to stare at one of the many stained glass windows. Each one depicted a small part of the earth element: lilies growing in a green field where the redwoods and blackwoods intermingled, not far from Kythera. The one in front of him showed the colorful, rocky cliffs on the far eastern side of the fae realm, where only those courageous enough to climb several mountain ranges could get a glimpse. Dax had seen them once when he was younger, eager, full of life and energy. Now, he felt like a husk of his former self.
“She had to try, Dax. Your sister cares about you. I care about you,” Spiro said softly.
“Staying away keeps you all safe. You know that,” Dax replied, his voice strained.
Spiro didn’t speak for a long moment, but Dax could feel their eyes on him, heavy with unspoken words.
“Each year that passes where you don’t come home, I grow fearful that I’ll never see you again.” Spiro’s voice cracked, and Dax glanced at them over his shoulder. The tears in Spiro’s eyes were too much.
Clearing his throat, he stared down at his boots. “What would you have me do? The risk is too great to make the trip more often. Someone could follow me and find this place.”
“Excuses,” Spiro spat out, making Dax meet their angry gaze. “You would never let that happen. This is your home. This is where you were born. You have been ignoring the Earth’s blessing—”
