Page 98 of Dragon Fires Everywhere
Part of me wants to stay outside the cemetery limits, so I can keep this fence between us and hurl as many accusations andbombs as I want.
But arguments are not the answer. Only knowledge is. It might be frustrating, but I will continue to work toward information,answers, and solutions. And no one—not even my beloved—will get in my way.
I walk through the cemetery entrance. “Why do you hate each other?” I ask him.
“I cannot tell you.”
I roll my eyes. “Honestly, Azrael, it is ridiculous how much I have to fight against you to help your own people.”
“Georgina, Icannottell you. I wish I could.”
I realize then, this is what he told me before. Our past lives are not something he can discuss with me. He is saddled withthe memories, and I must live without them. Evenknowingthey’re there.
So many curses, restrictions, lies, and wars. So much foolish disagreement and pointless infighting. I know in my heart wecan’t win anything worth having like this. With anger and distrust andcurses.
But why can’t I figure out what we can do instead?
“I saw my past lives, Azrael.” I don’t mean to say that. Or the next thing, but I do. I can’t help it. “I saw us die.”
“Yes, but did you make any sense of it? Do you know how many bodies your soul has had? Or was it just a whirling jumble?”
I frown at him. I don’t think I told him that. But he is correct.
“You are not meant to know your past lives, Georgina. I havetoldyou this.”
“Then why does that damn book keep trying to show me?”
He shakes his head. “You don’t understand.”
“You won’t let me!” And okay. Maybe that came out louder than I meant it to.
Not that it gets through to him.
“Your soul is important, precious, and it has learned many lessons, but it must also inhabit the body it is in,” he says inthat same weary way. “You must be the person you are inthistime. Being cluttered up with old lives that no longer matter will not aid you. That is why I told you to leave it behind.That is why, when faced with a memory of the past, I told you to let itlie.”
I stare back at him, but it makes sense, I suppose. Still, I think of all the knowledge I would have if I could remember.If I couldsee. If all those pasts weren’t a whirling jumble, butfacts.
The kind of facts one finds in an archive.
Maybe he can’t tell me, but does that mean I can’t find out who I was?
“Go to your coven. Your archives. Fight the Joywood and their black magic. Stop...”
“Stop what?”
He takes a breath and fixes me with a detached kind of expression. It reminds me of Emerson in her politician mode. Any tracesof his own feelings are hidden behind this mask.
“You did not listen to me before. Will you listen to me now, when it matters the most? We must not fraternize with the crows.They are dangerous. They are not to be trusted. They will betray you.”
I am already shaking my head before I realize it. “That isn’t true, Azrael.”
“Itistrue. I havelivedthis truth.” He pounds a fist to his chest. A show of emotion. Of desperation.
But I know he’s wrong, and it hurts. Being at odds seems to make all of those lives pointless, surely. I want to tell himthat we can both be right on this.
Until he says, “If you cannot listen, I cannot be who you want me to be.”
I feel as though I’ve been struck. “Is that a threat? Some sort of manipulation technique?”
