Page 24 of Little Mate

All lighting is broken, and the floors cracked.

No one speaks as we walk toward the center of the home. Even the young, who have slowly grown comfortable within our group, are now quiet and somber. Their eyes follow us, their hearts hold the same pain, but it’s not until one by one they follow our path that my tears begin to fall.

They form a circle around our bodies in the center of the large room and begin to chant. Their affirmation—affection—for us is touching, and I find solace in it. So does Isabella, drying her eyes before falling back into line with the circle, her body swaying a bit as she joins them.

Ut anima tua inveniat pacem. May your soul find peace.

And I hope we do. That it rains down upon our people and brings back the prosperity and security stolen by the greed of others.

The low voices merge, the cadence so beautiful, and my heart weeps for a different reason.

We aren’t alone.

We will rise from this tragedy and avenge our loved ones.

I vow this silently while joining hands with Canalia and a little boy no older than eight who bears a strong resemblance to her. They both grip my fingers tight, giving me the strength I need as my heart weeps for every person with us and those lost to senseless violence. Greed.

Slowly, my voice nothing but a whisper past the lump in my throat, I join them. From one conjuration to the next, we fall seamlessly into the words needed to protect our land and those who reside here. Our barriers are weak. Our faith is shaken.

You can’t fight fate.

Our voices rise as if following the heavy thrum of an invisible drum, slow to volatile, and only calming the raging waters once an invisible snap runs through our chain. It’s a sharp shock, grappling with our equilibrium, but our coven remains, giving strength to those younger and older who need it.

For a few minutes after we remain quiet, each person breathing deeply in and out, clearing our lungs and welcoming the lighter feeling inside the home’s walls, this sense of security that protection brings. Just like the last time Dad renewed it after our grandfather passed away.

With death comes a time of cleansing.

They need to rest. The family needs to find solace.

A low sigh across from me pulls me back to the present, and I meet my sister’s stare head-on. There’s resolve and a touch of sadness in her blue orbs with the knowledge of what the future holds.

You can’t fight fate.

“It’s time.” Her words, although expected, still land like a punch to the gut.

“Can we have tonight?”

“That’s all we’ll have.” Those around us watch but don’t ask questions. Yet the curiosity is there in their unwavering stare. “Tonight we will visit with you, but tomorrow we must leave.”

“But where will you go?” Canalia is the first to speak up, the others slowly doing the same.

However, it’s Meera who’s the loudest. Those eyes have seen so much, things I couldn’t even begin to imagine while being her father’s captive and main blood donor, but in them, I find understanding and respect.

Her small hand goes up, and the others cease all noises. “You’ve seen the answer, Isabella.” Not a question. A statement for those inside the room. “Will this save us? Will all the deaths end and those guilty be brought to justice?”

“Yes.”

“Then do as you must.” Meera moves toward us, those around her watching her every move. Worried she’ll fall, and it warms my heart to see them ready to step in when they are just as hurt or in need of help. “We’re here for you the way your family has always stood for us. No king shall break that.”

Those words help me find the strength—the resolve to leave and seek he who wishes to own me. If she can stand tall after everything, after the horror-filled way we found her, then I can face him.

I will find a way to end this nightmare.

“Everything will be back in its rightful place after this trip. The truth will set us free.” Isabella’s emphasis on the word truth isn’t lost on me. Yet the quick flick of her eyes toward me tells me it isn’t the right time to ask.

We’ll talk.

Later.

---