Page 48 of Changeling
“Likewise.” I lean down to kiss her cheek. “I hope so too.”
Though a visit would mean getting attached all over again. I’m not sure how this happened so fast. Dominus is such a comforting presence at my side. With every fiber, I’m aware of him, even when my gaze is on Rizpah, like a warm, reassuring hug and a protective shield all at once. Tearing myself away from him is going to hurt. No amount of bracing will prepare me for it.
“A batyukban finomságok vannak az útra, és egy kis meglepetés mikor megérkezel.”
“She says the packages are treats for your journey, plus a little something extra to open when you arrive,” Dominus relays as Rizpah smooths the scarf’s tasseled ends down my chest.
She steps back, and Dominus takes my elbow. “Best not keep them waiting.”
Is he that eager to be rid of me? I sigh, say a final good-bye to Rizpah, and walk toward the exit. With a last look at the opulent parlors, I burn the place in my memory—the deep jewel tones, the golden velvet curtains, even the perfumed air as if rose bushes could flourish underground.
Through the door, another loss awaits, for Leonas perches upon his stool, legs crossed one over the other, top foot bouncing.
When he sees us, he rises, his movement elegant as always but his face the picture of wariness. He stops in front of me, and though he’s shorter, somehow I feel like it’s me looking up to him.
“Are you certain this is a good idea, Sebastian? Those creatures have powers I’ve never seen before.” His yellow eyes are intense. “I don’t trust them.”
I got the opposite impression, and at some point, I must rely on my instincts.
“I think Remy and Sachi can help me. I need to learn more about my magic. How to use it. How to control it so I never have another accident.” And there will be other faeries. Maybe I will finally belong…
Leonas gives a slow nod, still skeptical. “I respect your decision, but if you change your mind, you’re always welcome to come back. There’s a place for you here.”
His words soothe like sinking into a hot spring on a cold winter’s eve. My heart warms, and the tears I thought I’d conquered return. If only Dominus felt the same sentiment as Leonas.
I mutter my thanks and hug him before my brain catches up to my arms. Leonas isn’t really the hugging sort. I start to pull away. “Er, sorry.”
He chuckles and hauls me back for a real embrace. “It’s okay. But only because you shared your meat.”
I sputter a laugh. He’s so weird. But I like him and wish we had more time together. Though we’ve only scratched the surface of friendship, the potential between us is palpable, and I’m sad to leave before we’ve had the chance to know each other better.
“Be careful. You’re prone to trust too easily.” He turns his back and slinks to his post. “Take care.”
“You too.”
Dominus and I climb the stairs to the alley above. As always, the fresh air is invigorating, but this time I miss the floral scents of the den below. They’re lost to me now.
This is my last chance to ask. “What is the building over The Twig used for? Is it yours too?”
“Ah, yes, though I gave it to Rizpah and her family long ago.”
Huh. I’ve only ever seen Rizpah below ground. “She lives there now?”
“Not so much. Only when her sons come to visit, but when they were younger and still under her wing, that was their home. I think it holds too many memories for her now that she is alone.”
Rizpah is alone. Like me. “What happened?”
“Nothing bad, only the normal flow of human life. Her husband passed on as old men are wont to do, and her children are long since grown. They have their own families and live across the bridge in Buda where work is more plentiful.”
The events being normal do little to dampen the inherent sadness of a life once shared with others now being lived alone. I should know. Though at least Rizpah has her Twig family. Perhaps I will find such with The Dozen. I can only hope.
We walk the now familiar streets toward the river in silence. There’s a lifetime of things I’d love to chat about with Dominus, but none of them bubble to the surface. I’m too gloomy for conversation, and he must have nothing to say. When I glance at him, he appears to be lost in thought.
The Danube sparkles in the starlight, flowing south as we head north beyond the walled section of the city. Ivaz informed me the gates always stand open in times of peace. He was a kind travel companion, and a part of me wishes it was Ivaz taking me the rest of the way to The Dozen instead of Remy and Sachi.
“Dominus, will you say good-bye to Ivaz for me when next you see him?”
“Of course,” he rumbles in his deep baritone. I’ll miss his voice.
