Page 143 of Swords of Soul and Shadow
Jove looked over at his mother and then back at the other man. He did owe the man his life. Civility was the least he could muster. “I wouldn’t say useless. You healed my mother and myself.”
“But not the other one.”
Jove glanced at his friend. He wasn’t sure if it was the odd light from the crystal or his own imagination, but Anderson’s skin had a grayish cast to it. Even though his chest rose and fell, Anderson appeared as good as dead. Jove felt helpless.
A loud clattering like rocks falling in one of the tunnels echoed and interrupted the conversation. His mother woke with a sharp inhale of breath. Jove rubbed where his head had hit the wall.
The rumbles weren’t uncommon; they’d heard plenty in the time they’d been down there. More collapses. One of them sounded more like a bombing to his ears, but down as deep as they were, it was hard to tell the difference, if there even was one.
But this one definitely sounded different. Almost too close.
“Stay here,” Jove said once the quakes had passed. “I’ll see what’s going on.”
He inspected the small cavern they’d been holed up in for a sizable rock, but only found a few shards of the crystal that had somehow broken off. One was half the length of Jove’s forearm. It would do.
“Dear, I’m sure it was another collapse.” His mother folded his jacket over her arm and stood.
Jove shook his head. “If it is, then there might be others who need help.”
“Then why do you need a weapon?”
“Might need it if it’s a Cerl. Or Stradat Loffler.”
He looked back at Anderson. The shard was a crude weapon, but hopefully it would be enough to finish Loffler…that is, if he didn’t use that weird lightning power of his. Though without Anderson to complete the power, Jove might be okay.
He headed back the way they had come days ago, passing by the other tunnel to the underground stream they’d been using for water and cave fish for food. He tried not to grip the shard too tightly, lest he cut himself on the jagged edges. Being in the Watch meant he’d undergone some combat training after he’d graduated from the decoding department and before he took the role as Watch Captain of the upper quarter, but he was certain all that training had fallen to the wayside in the past year as High Guardsman, much to Harlan’s chagrin—only one of many disappointments.
He stepped through the opening and into the darker corridor beyond. Probably not the best call. He turned to go back and ask if Kainadr could lend him one of his magical fireballs when something caught in the corner of his eye. A light.
Jove whipped his head around. There it was. The visage was grainy and blurry at once. It wore a pristine soldier’s jacket. Its hair was short on the sides, longer and smoothed back on top. A demure smile graced its lips.
Zeke. It was Zeke. A sob escaped Jove’s lips. He stumbled forward just as his brother disappeared into the rock wall.
Jove let out a shuddering gasp, splaying his hands against the wall. No Zeke. No evidence that he’d been there. Just an unyielding rock wall layered with grime.
Why? Why couldn’t Zeke stay? Why was he gone? Jove never got to say goodbye. Not really. He’d only given his brother a handshake and a mutteredgood luck.
Why had he done that? He’d known he was sending him on a mission that could very well have ended in him dying. He’dknownthat.
He hadn’t embraced him. He hadn’t said goodbye.
Jove should’ve gone instead. Zeke was the one who deserved to live. He’d always been the good one.
He let out a frustrated shout and slammed the fist with the shard into the wall. The water they’d been drinking must’ve been laced with something that caused hallucinations. Pain erupted in his hand, followed by warmth trickling down his wrist.
He leaned his head against the wall, watching the blood run down his forearm, disappearing into the dirty sleeves of his once-fine dress shirt. He pounded the wall again, tears flowing freely and uncontrollably. His palm was on fire.
Hands grabbed him from behind. Loffler.
Jove swung around, the now-bloody crystal shard with him, but the person ducked. The outline of a woman with bedraggled curly hair stood behind him.
His mother. Jove dropped the shard.
“Zeke. I saw Zeke,” he gasped.
Hallucination or not, his body and mind couldn’t handle it.
His mother didn’t say anything, didn’t call him crazy or remind him that it was impossible for her son to be there. Instead, she pulled him close and embraced him. She held him as she once did when he was a child, and that was the final straw.
