Chapter 40 #2
She closed her eyes as her mind reeled—the memory of her mother’s lifeless body on the cave floor forever burned behind her eyes.
Tears streamed down Eira’s face as Ember recounted it all, but they weren’t tears of sadness—not fully.
Righteous anger radiated off the woman, rolling off her skin like waves as she clenched her jaw.
Anger for Maeve and what she had been through, trapped in a dirty dungeon in the belly of an ancient castle.
Anger for Fen at the danger he had been put in.
And as their eyes locked, she knew it was anger for her too.
Anger at her mother for putting Ember and Theo in danger—risking their lives for the “greater good.”
Captain Balor nodded as he blew out a breath.
“Are you going to go get him?” Fen asked, his face set in anger.
“It isn’t that easy,” Captain Balor replied, as he shook his head. “If Collum had been turned so easily, who’s to say there aren’t more in my ranks? No, we need to tread carefully.”
“The wards there are different,” Osiris said, as he stepped into the room. “You can only get past them with a Torc specifically keyed to enter them. The standard issued bands won’t work”
Eira furrowed her brow. “And how exactly do you know this?” she asked under her breath. Osiris’s cheeks colored red as he looked away from his mother’s stare.
“Is your Torc not standard issued?” Fen asked, as he turned to look at his brother.
Eira’s eyes went wide as she looked at Osiris.
“I’ll explain later, Mum,” he whispered, like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“It will take some time to take inventory of his magic,” the captain continued, “and of any armies he might have. Even with his magic as weak as you say, I don’t know who he might have to help him.
But now that he has been caught, I imagine the children will be safe again. He’ll just find another avenue.”
Ember swallowed dryly. He would come after her again now that he knew where she was and that she was alive. She didn’t doubt that for a moment. She would just have to be ready when he got there.
After taking all the kids' statements, as well as Osiris’s, Captain Balor took the children back to their homes, escorting Odette as well, letting Osiris know he would be back to talk more in depth with him later.
Theo wandered back into the den not long after, curling up on the oversized chair next to Ember.
All of the boys—Killian, Fen and Theo—quickly fell asleep, and Ember took her chance to squeeze out of the chair and slip out the back door.
The moment her feet hit the dirt, she hurtled toward the barn, slinging the doors open and racing down the open corridor.
She skidded to a halt in front of the familiar stall and slid open the lock, gently nudging the door open.
Maia was curled up in a ball in the back corner, and Ember crept quietly across the layer of hay on the ground.
Maia’s head popped up, lavender eyes widening, and Ember could’ve sworn she grinned. She tackled Ember to the ground, purring and chirping and nuzzling her snout into Ember’s hands.
“I’m back now,” Ember mumbled. “I won’t ever leave you again.”
They walked together to the front of the house, and Theo was on the porch waiting.
He still looked tired, but the kind of tired that couldn’t be reconciled with a good night's sleep.
His eyes were dark, but hope flickered somewhere in their depths.
Ember sat beside him on the porch, Maia lying quietly at their feet.
“Now what?” Theo signed, then rubbed Maia’s belly. She purred as he nuzzled the bottom of his leg.
Before Ember could answer, the front door opened, then closed. Ember almost expected Killian or Fen to come out, but instead, Eira stood in front of them, softly smiling as she folded her hands in front of her.
“I’m so sorry about your mother,” she whispered. “I can’t imagine the pain you both are feeling.”
“Thank you,” Ember whispered, as she fought the tears threatening to spill over. “It’s been… a lot to handle. But I think we’ll be okay.” She would have to be okay, would have to figure out how to push through this for Theo.
This loss didn’t feel like it did before, not like the loss of her dad.
It wasn’t only the death of a parent that she was grieving, but the death of a dream she had kept locked away in her heart since she was six years old.
The death of the idea she had of her mother and who she was.
The death of a peaceful childhood. It was a new wound, one carved into the scar tissue of the old ones. A death of the girl she once was.
“We’re here,” Eira breathed, as she looked at them both, “for whatever you need. We’re here.” She turned to go back inside, to leave the two to themselves, when Ember stood up quickly, one step toward her.
“I had a mother,” Ember choked out, “at one point. I loved her very much.” Ember steadied herself as she breathed.
She didn’t know how to separate Aoife from the mother she knew as a small child and the flawed person she had seen in that cave.
“She took care of us because she had to, because it was her duty. She took care of me because of a prophecy she was hoping to fulfill for the greater good.” Ember’s eyes welled with tears as they meet Eira’s.
“But you have loved me from the moment I walked into your home, baggage and all, without question. You fed me because you loved me. You gave me a room because you loved me. You bandaged my wounds and scolded me when I did something wrong. You took all my broken pieces and held my hand while I put myself back together again. You never tried to fix me, never acted like I was broken. you never had any ulterior motives. You were more a mother to me in a single year than she was in a lifetime, and you only did it because you loved me.”
Eira’s chest shook, bottom lip wobbling as she blew out a breath. Tears rolled down Ember’s cheek as Theo stood and held her hand.
“Can I come home?” Ember whispered, bottom lip quivering. Theo squeezed her hand as she steadied herself. “Can we come home, Mum?”
Eira wrapped them both in a hug, sobbing into their hair as she kissed Ember on the head. Theo’s grip on her hand relaxed until he let go altogether, wrapping both arms around Eira. Ember had never seen her mother hug him. Had he ever been hugged by a mother before?
Eira took a step back, rubbing the sides of their faces as she smiled. “You can always come home.”
Ember lounged in the den with Fen and Killian that evening, tucked into her chair with one of her favorite books, the latter two playing a very serious game of cards, when a knock sounded on the door.
“I’m getting very tired of surprise visitors,” Fen grumbled, as he laid down a card, taking a swig of his Moon Cider.
Ember listened as the front door opened, and she could just barely make out the voice of a man in the other room.
A few moments later, Eira poked her head into the room and gave the trio a tight smile.
“Killian love, your father is here.”
Killian’s face paled, and Ember could feel the tether at her chest tighten. They all made their way into the foyer where Magnus Vargr was impatiently tapping his foot, a sneer painted on his face as he adjusted the long coat hanging down to his calves.
“Come back soon, love,” Eira said, as she kissed him on the head and quickly exited the room
“We’re going home, Killian,” he said, as the trio walked into the room, not even giving Ember or Fen a second glance. “Your uncle is waiting for us.”
Ember watched as Killian’s throat bobbed, the muscles at his jaw tensing. Magnus’s eyes drifted to Fen, then to Ember, and the smile painted across his face made her stomach sour.
”Lovely to see you made it home,” he said, his grey eyes looking so much colder than Killian’s as they bore holes into her.
Ember nodded but didn’t reply as Killian took a slight step in front of her.
“What does he want?” Killian almost hissed, magic sparking at his fingertips.
“You made quite the mess last night,” Magnus replied, too calm for Ember’s liking, “embarrassed him terribly. You made him a promise—made this family a promise—and he would like a word with you.”
Ember's heart sank. What had Killian done?
He stiffened, hands flexing at his sides as he gave his father a nod. He turned to Fen and Ember and gave them both a half smile. “I’ll see you at school,” he said and then turned to walk out the door.
“I don’t like him,” Fen huffed, as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, and Ember nodded her head. She was overwhelmed with joy to be home and back with her family, but she couldn’t help the guilt that seemed to crawl through her chest, like her freedom had simultaneously sent him to the gallows.
The family packed around the dining room table that night and feasted on everything Eira could get her hands on.
Theo smiled as he signed with Osiris, some conversation about their favorite comic book series that Ember had never heard of, and Fen prattled on about their adventure at the Ostara ball, even when Eira looked at him like she might kill him.
“I ate an ancient cow!” he screamed through bites of potatoes. “And the whiskey was—”
Eira shot him a look, and Fen’s face paled.
“I-I’m sure it was very lovely,” he continued, as he sank into his seat, “although I’ll never know because I did not partake in such an abhorrent drink.”
Otto chuckled as he shook his head, patting his wife’s hand and mumbling something in her ear that made her blush. He ruffled Theo’s hair and signed something, asking how he liked the food, and Theo’s grin continued to grow.
Maeve smiled as she ate, joining in on the conversation and laughing at her brothers as they fought over the last scone.
But there was a shadow there that only Ember seemed to notice.
It flitted across her face when she thought no one was looking, as she rubbed the fading bruises on her neck and wrists.
Ember recognized that shadow. She had watched it in the mirror when she was six years old, watched as it burrowed into the cracks in her chest ripped open by grief.
Maeve was suddenly older—something in her had shattered in that dungeon, and Ember wasn’t sure if she would ever be the same. She smiled at Ember, and Ember smiled back. The difference between her and Maeve, though, was that Maeve would not be left to navigate this alone.
I’m here.
“We’re very glad to have you home, Mo Chroí.” Otto smiled as he turned to Ember. “I hope you know how much we’ve missed you.” Otto glanced at Theo. “Both of you.”
Theo had never had a father—not one that was alive.
The idea that he would never know their father felt like a knife to the heart every time she thought about it.
But then Otto looked at him—really looked at him—like he hung the moon, and Ember thought maybe Theo would finally have a wonderful father, even if it was different than he had imagined.
Ember had been worried that she would never be close to Otto, that he could never fill the emptiness that was left when her father took his last breath.
But the longer she sat at the Kitts’ dining room table, the more she watched Theo with Otto and the love he already had for a boy he had only just met, the more she realized that they weren’t meant to fill the holes or fix the brokenness.
They inhabited places in her heart that she wasn’t aware were there, carving out their own spots and repairing the damage life had left her with.
Eira and Otto would never replace their parents, but maybe they weren’t ever supposed to.
Maybe this got to be something new—a fresh start.
Maybe this was what love was—to carry grief in one hand and gratitude in another.
She always assumed that there wasn’t room in her heart to love another family, not after losing hers. She didn’t want anything to take away the love she had for her parents, so she fought against anything that might threaten that.
But this family, her family, didn’t take away any of the love she had for her parents. It didn’t replace it, it simply added to it. More love. Not different, not less, not divided, just multiplied.
“Mum, are there any peas?” Fen asked, as he finished off the last of his roast.
“Of course not,” Eira huffed, as she shook her head. “Ember hates peas.”
Ember bit the inside of her cheek as her smile grew.
Maybe to be loved was simply to be known.