Chapter 28
“No, it’s better to kill him,” Carmine’s mother hissed.
I’d called her prickly not many days ago. That had been an understatement.
At least I’d dragged her outside before she started snapping and clawing.
She snarled, “I’ll put him down in the desert.”
I tried to banish the horror creeping over me that Athira was so casually speaking about killing a child. “You’ll do no such thing.”
“Another child means nothing to me. Why should I care for two?”
I cast a look at the tiny shack that I’d already started to extend in the last few nights—without help from my mother-in-law. “Owu is meant to be here.”
“Because his father was an idiot who entered Tiers.”
I was also an idiot who entered Tiers. Just the most powerful one. “Because his destiny is tied with Adeuto’s.”
Carmine’s mother blew out a breath. “More human nonsense.”
Magus. “He will be my son’s most treasured and trusted friend for immortality, Athira. I can tell this as I can tell what children Gratia will have.”
“You can see the future.”
“I interpret destiny.”
“And what does destiny say about my answer?” she sneered.
“I don’t need to look. You will agree.”
She snorted.
I added, “You will agree when you see Adeuto’s joy at having a companion. And Owu’s joy. Because he has had no playmate in life either.”
Athira sneered her way through that too. “When will he arrive?”
“I’m going to get him now.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
A loud bellow interrupted us, and I scanned the sand for the nismus. She was burrowing into the sand. “Looks like we’ll have two new additions soon enough.”
She was birthing her calf.
Adeuto came out. “What was that?”
“The noise? Our friend is having her calf.”
He ran to push a wooden chair up to the fence, then peered out. “She’s going into the sand.”
“That is how nismus birth.”
“Why is she moaning?”
Athira threw me an ironic look, and I couldn’t prevent a grin. “Because bringing life into the world feels like it must be earned.”
I joined Adeuto, dropping a kiss on his head. “My love, I will return very soon. There is something I must collect.”
“Mm’kay,” he said, squinting over the fence.
Athira stormed inside, as I opened a portal to the Pinnacle and strode through.
The yellow lowered his hands from his face, his back to the stone wall. “Hello again.”
I grunted. “Where’s red?”
“Here,” said the red, entering from another room.
He and the yellow were both rooming at the very top now. An alliance formed by chance, and perhaps fate.
“It’s time,” I told Owu’s father. “How did she go?”
The other demons could be listening; we had to be careful.
His face firmed. “Not well, but I am determined in this. I see the reason.”
I nodded. “Your parents will not disturb her again. She and your son are under the king’s personal protection.”
The red’s eyes widened. “He did that?”
That was greatly simplifying matters. “In a nutshell.”
Two confused demons looked at me in silence.
“Let’s go,” I said. “To a decoy point first.”
The red paused, then nodded at my meaning. He opened a portal to their old home. Once the portal was closed, I scanned for company.
He opened another portal to a different house.
The yellow stepped through, and I joined him. The portal was closed after the red.
“Home sweet home,” said the yellow.
And it was. Relative to most demon homes. Paintings of him and his mate hung on the walls. The furnishings were quaint and simple.
The yellow touched a painting. “She loved to paint.”
He couldn’t portal, so this would be the last time he looked at the home he’d shared with her. The yellow wandered off through his home, and I followed the red down a hall.
Owu was inside the small lounge, playing a game with his mother. His face fell at my appearance, and his mother’s face hardened.
She shot to her feet. “You’re already here.”
“I am. It’s time to go.” I should win Tiers tomorrow, but there was so much else at play that I didn’t want to waste any of my time with Adeuto.
She pulled Owu up and against her side. “There must be another way.”
I shook my head. “There isn’t. Not unless you wish to die, and for your son to die too. Carmine cannot allow someone of your son’s power to live.”
“You healed him only to condemn him to solitude,” she shouted.
If only I could reassure her. But nothing would drag the truth of Adeuto’s existence from my lips. Owu would very shortly learn that he was about to have a friend.
Owu’s mother would exist in misery until they met again.
I looked at her. “One day, I will be able to tell you more. But he will live in happiness there, I assure you. The worst things you are imagining will never happen, but he will miss you—yes. That is unavoidable because you are his mother who he will never forget. The day you meet again because of your strength in this moment, will be a beautiful and overdue day. And it will happen. You will see your child again. But this is the only way.”
Her chin trembled, and she closed her eyes, dislodging tears.
“I believe her, Mama,” Owu whispered to his mother. “I feel who I am. I must hide for now.”
“Will he be king?” she blurted through her tears.
I shook my head.
“So he will need to hide all his life.”
The yellow joined us, but remained in the doorway.
“No,” I said, and I left it at that. The natural assumption would be that Carmine must die. But then there would be another king. Another king would kill Owu anyway.
Except Adeuto would not. I could not tell how or why—if being part magus was the key. Or whether Adeuto would just choose not to.
Either way, I had felt that their friendship lasted all of their days.
The yellow grunted in surprise, and though I couldn’t tell him my plans, I did hope he was able to imagine that the king who’d killed his mate might one day be dead by my hand.
“Say your goodbyes now,” I said to the family. “We must go.”
Athira would have a huge job getting these boys to sleep tonight. I enjoyed imagining that as the small family cried together and held each other close.
His mother pushed a necklace into Owu’s hands. “I will see you again, my son,” she said fiercely.
“Will you be okay?” he asked her.
“I will watch over your mother when I can, Owu,” I said softly. “You will hear far more of your mother than she will hear of you.”
She kissed his cheeks. “I will be just fine. There is nothing I can’t do for you.”
And that was the truth.
Owu straightened his shoulders and joined me. “I’m ready, Mate-Intended.”
He’d been coached in royal etiquette.
“Call me Syera.”
I took his hand, and once he’d waved to his parents—to his father for the last time—I opened a portal.
The red was smiling and managing to cover his devastation far better than his mate, who was struggling to remain upright. I waited until they both managed to force a smile, and then whisked Owu through.
That would be his last image of his mother and father together. How I wished that this could end another way for him.
Owu moved from my side to spin in a circle. “This is the hideout?”
“Mother’s back!” Thudding footsteps sounded before Adeuto appeared in the small doorway.
He stared at Owu.
Owu stared at him.
Adeuto dragged his gaze from the boy to me. “Mother, who is this?”
I joined him. “Adeuto, this is Owu. Owu will stay with you and your grandmother from now on.” I beckoned to the demon behind me. “Owu, this is my son, Adeuto.”
“Another boy,” murmured the demon, padding closer. “You didn’t say.”
“I couldn’t say,” I replied.
Adeuto piped up. “Mother’s still handling my father.”
My son had never seen another child. Perhaps Owu watched them out of his window from time to time.
“You have scales already,” Adeuto told the boy.
The boy scowled. “I was sick. Your mama healed me.”
“Mother,” my son corrected him.
Quiet settled between them, and I opened my mouth to speak.
“Maybe you can show me the hideout,” said Owu.
Adeuto nodded. “Then do you want to go see a baby nismus?”
“Okay.”
That settled, they went inside.
Athira immediately exited. “He’s a crimson. A strong one. Why does he have scales?”
I listened to the boys within. They didn’t know what to do with each other yet, but in a matter of weeks, they’d be fighting and shouting and completely at ease with one another.
I said, “He was sick. His parents’ power never combined within him. He had scales and smoke from birth and has retained them.”
He would have sixteen years more to hone his power and grow his scales over any other of his age in the realm. That was a huge benefit. To him and my son.
“Is he more powerful than Adeuto?”
I shook my head. “Not with Adeuto’s magus power in the mix.”
Athira relaxed. “Then I hope it is as you say and Adeuto will have a trusted friend all his days. That is nearly impossible for a demon.”
“He will.” And for a mother that knowledge was a gift indeed.