Chapter 43
Remi
So be it, let the thunder come;
The rain bears witness to this vow.
I’d die before I yield again;
I’ve bent, but I will not bow.
Gentle moonlight danced across Amir’s golden skin. It cast streaks through his dark hair and fashioned a crown upon his head. He was a sight to behold, as always. Bred from ancient kings of men. There was no other explanation.
Quietly, I got out of the bed. I glanced at him a few times until I was in the hallway. Barely audible footsteps made me smile as I continued toward the kitchen.
“Busted,” I said.
Oli whirled around with his hand on his chest. “Bro, what the hell?”
“You stealing?”
“Totally. I was thinking of making off with his knitting collection. It’s got to be around here somewhere.”
With a laugh, I started the kettle, then reached into the cabinet to grab two mugs and a square tin.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Tea. Don’t ask what kind. I just know his mom sends it from Dubai.” He opened his mouth, but I spoke before he could. “No caffeine.”
“Perfect. Are you going to tell me why you’re up?”
“Why are you?”
“Did you think I’d be able to sleep here?”
“Do you think that ever goes away?”
“No, but I figure it doesn’t matter because once you find your place, sleep comes easy. And when it doesn’t, the person sleeping next to you knows how to silence your demons. Does Amir?”
“He gets out of bed before me some days.”
“And you don’t wake up?”
I shook my head with a frown. “Not always. I hate it.”
After I poured the tea, he nodded toward the living room. Dean was passed out on the floor in their makeshift bed, so we stepped over him and sat on the couch. Both of us brought our feet up, facing each other.
“What happens tomorrow?” he asked.
“No clue.”
“Okay. How are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
“Why is it that when I want you to give me real answers, you have no words?”
“Because where Thought and Memory were Odin’s inseparable allies, mine are opposed forces, always waging war against each other.”
“Huginn and Muninn need timeouts away from each other, then.”
“They’re mostly symbols.” I gripped my cup tightly. “He read the Hávamál, you know.”
Oli’s eyes widened. “Because of you? I like him more every day. Except when he entertains that PR guy’s ideas.”
“I think Renshu has the hots for you.”
“I’ll tell Dean so he gets all growly about it. Now, stop deflecting from the issue at hand.”
Looking down at my tea, I considered what to say. “I don’t care what they all think about me. There are seven people who matter to me in this life. Two are watching me from Fólkvangr.”
“What do you think they’d say?”
“I’ve run through a hundred possibilities in my head,” I admitted. “The problem is, how can I convince myself of what they’d say if I can’t remember what they sound like?”
“Maybe you don’t convince yourself. You’re the one that’s still here, which means it’s on you to decide.”
“I wish I didn’t have to.”
“I used to imagine what my parents sounded like,” he said. “I just didn’t have anything to go off of. Sure, it sucks, but I think you might have to stop imagining at a certain point. It could be some sort of test.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, maybe this is some turning point in your life where you’re being given the chance to choose a path. You’re the same age now as they were when they died.” He took my hand before I could close myself off. “It’s an opportunity. Win or lose.”
“But what’s winning and what’s losing?”
“That’s the age-old question, I guess. People have done crazy things for love, but if they could go back at the end of their lives and look at it all, do you think they’d choose differently?”
“I’d say it’s probably split down the middle. Love has destroyed as much as it’s built.”
“It does both in equal measure. You just don’t get to decide what it chooses as its victims.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t believe that.”
“It’s believable if you subscribe to the idea of universal balance. Destroying isn’t always bad, like building isn’t always good.”
“Not that part. It’s the choosing I refuse to believe. We always have choices. Whether it changes your fate is the real question.”
His head cocked. “What are you thinking?”
Bringing the cup to my lips, I shrugged. “I’m only rambling.”
“Are you?”
A rustle at the other side of the room gave me an excuse to ignore the question. At the entrance to the hallway, there was a figure watching us.
“Nosey?” I teased.
With an apologetic smile, Avery came the rest of the way into the room. “I’m sorry. I thought I’d check on you, but then I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“How’d you know I was up?”
“Ever since Mal was born, I’ve woken up to every little movement in the house.”
“A mother’s instincts. Downright impressive.”
“Now you know why I look forward to Amir’s weeks. I miss my daughter when she’s gone, but I enjoy sleeping in once in a while.”
She took a step closer, then paused. I scooted toward Oli and gestured for her to join us. Sitting at the end of the couch, she curled her legs beneath her.
“Why are you two up?” When we glanced at each other, she laughed lightly. “You remind me of my brothers sharing secrets.”
“It’s habit,” Oli explained. “Comes out in unfamiliar territory.”
“It must’ve been awful, being in foster care like that.”
He gave her one of his easy smiles. “I never knew any better. It was just life.”
“Still.” She wrung her hands in her lap. “I hate that this is happening. And with what Clara already knows . . . There’s a special place waiting for her. If you believe in that sort of thing.”
“In the old stories,” I began thoughtfully, “liars go to Nástrond—a hall of shadows where venom rains from the ceiling.”
“Is it wrong to wish that on her?”
“The Old Ways have no rules that require me to forgive evil deeds. If you spend your life weaving poison, you shouldn’t be surprised when the gods let you drown in it.”
“Do you believe that?”
“Yes. If anyone’s still watching over me, then there is a list of names promised to the serpent of Helheim.”
“For your sake, Remi, I hope you’re right.”
When she took my hand, I looked down at it. My chest felt like it cracked open, and not for the first time, I filled those familiar gaps. Once, I might have believed that I’d manage to keep them sealed. I was a different person then, still capable of hiding behind ambiguous words and false hopes.