Chapter 17 #3
“Just tiny things I liked. It doesn’t matter so much what they are as how I chose them.
When you get the chance to choose, find items that you love and want to protect.
Ones that represent you. For you, until you can choose, Twigs will give me a protection spell that will be stronger than Katja’s, so no one else usurps your jewels or can track them. I want—I need—you to be safe.”
“I am safe. I feel that way right now. You and everyone else help.”
“Good.” Malek glanced down at the phone, but nothing focused.
His vision blurred as if he was being summoned to the Summerland.
The letters fell away on the screen and turned into bright colours, cascading through his memory like his tattoos and dreamworld.
He pinched the skin between his thumb and forefinger to steady himself.
“And the other guys in your band?” Caspar asked. “They’re like my parents, right?”
“Yes. Confronted with a yes or no choice about serving, they said no. And it was the wrong one to Odafin, so he destroyed them. Since he had all their items, they had no magic to save them.”
“Shit. I’m sorry. But… I’m starting to think it wasn’t the wrong choice. In principle, at least.”
“Even if they ended up dead?” Malek asked, raising a skeptical brow.
Caspar nodded slowly. It seemed to take all his effort. “I still don’t understand it all, but I don’t think my parents did anything wrong. I’m confused and angry and hurt at what they did to me, but for themselves, well, I understand why they did what they did.”
“You do?”
“As much as I can,” Caspar said. “One of the things prison gave me—if I can say it really gave me anything at all—was the time to think and understand people’s motives.
So many people do bad things, but more often than not, it’s for a good reason.
Even if those reasons are based on a faulty premise, it’s rare to find someone who does something evil for the sake of being evil.
Even the people who took my fucking eye.
They thought I was magic. They wanted to be free, so they took something from me.
And really, I am magic, apparently. And aren’t I doing the same thing, hoping to be free? ”
“But your eye—”
“Oh, I’m still angry and pissed about that.
And I’m still angry and pissed that my parents kept this from me.
It’s not an excuse, but it is an explanation for their behaviour.
As much as I hate it, I understand it. There’s a strange kind of peace in understanding, too.
Or maybe that’s just the beer and all the drugs Katja’s been giving me.
” Caspar shrugged as he laughed. “Who knows, right? But I do know that I’m still sorry for your friends. They seem like they were really cool.”
“They were. It’s just not fair.”
“It never is. Even if the Mages… if I got rid of the one that took my eye, another would spring up. You stop one, and a dozen come out of the woodwork. It never matters. It’s never important. And the head honcho always wins, right? That’s the sense I’m getting from all of this.”
“You’re right. But finding answers for you about your family is still important.”
“I have answers,” Caspar said. “That wish I asked for this morning doesn’t seem as important anymore. I know who killed my parents. I know why. And I have some of their photographs now from Katja, too. That’s all I ever needed or wanted.”
“You can still use your wish. I can conjure Qasim and you can face him. Anything else is up to you.”
“No,” Caspar said. “That seems more risky than anything now.”
“We can make you invisible. We have so many tools at our disposal here.”
“No,” Caspar said again, this time with more insistence. Malek was about to mention the archives again when Caspar’s insistent gaze caught him off guard.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” Caspar said. “I want to use my wish to set you free again.”
“What?”
“I want you to be free again. You can be if we find the rest of your items, right? So let’s find them.
Let’s seal them away with that incantation, and we’ll pay all the fucking dues on a storage facility.
They won’t ever find you again. And then, who knows, right?
” Caspar tried to smile, taking the edge off his words. “Maybe we could be free together.”
Malek stood, immobile. There was no way this was happening. This couldn’t be real. When he met Caspar’s gaze, the same honest look was there. Open, genuine. They were so alike, and that seemed to be what Caspar had finally put together.
Caspar took a step toward him. The distance between their bodies disappeared.
And for a second, Malek was struck by how tall Caspar had become.
His shoulders were wider, stretched far apart, as if he could finally breathe without restriction.
He was stronger, prouder. They could see eye to eye, soul to soul.
When Caspar touched Malek’s hand, he flipped it over and traced the mandala that covered his skin, a part of their shared culture.
As softly as Caspar drew a finger over the design, he then pressed his mouth to Malek’s.
This time, Malek didn’t push away.