Chapter Fourteen #2
“I’ve tried to reach Devion for you, Monkey,” Beau admitted. “A long time ago, soon after the accident, when you were in so much pain. That same pain was in your face today. And I hate it. It’s a pain I can’t take away, and the Goddesses know I’ve tried.
“I communed with the spirit world for days—hours at a time—with so many guides coming forward, trying to help. No trace of him, like his spirit was being blocked. I believe that’s why you’ve never heard from him.”
Schuyler couldn’t deny thinking about the spell. A chance to see Dev again, to talk to him. But it would only be a brief moment, too brief, and he was unsure if he could stomach having to say goodbye.
Marshall placed his hand on Schuyler’s back and began to gently rub, as he’d done when Sky was upset as a child. “You think this spell could work?”
“I’d need to review it to be sure, but his reasoning is sound. It’s not reanimation. It’s a temporal shift of spiritual energy into an ad hoc vessel for a brief period. In theory it doesn’t violate the Edict.”
“Might be worth exploring,” Marshall added.
“Marshall Kirkland-Croy,” Beau snapped, “the audacity of your very being to suggest somethin’ like that to our son. Monkey, you leave that spell be. I’ll never be able to show my face in town if my son was found guilty of breaking an Edict. I don’t need that kind of heat on me.”
Schuyler ignored Beau, addressing Marshall. “You think so?”
“Dolores is out there, waiting for something like this to pounce!” Beau interjected.
Marshall nodded. “If the boy fesses up to everything, shows you the spell, and you believe it’s solid enough to work, I say do it. Say goodbye to Dev. Tell him to fuck off. Tell him you love him. I think today proved you have more unresolved feelings about him than you thought. You should do this.”
“Marshall!”
Marshall forcefully cleared his throat at Beau’s interruption.
“Son, I don’t interfere much. You will do what you want, always have, always will, which is why I love you.
But this one time, listen to your old man: you will plunge yourself into another level of hell if Issac succeeds doing that spell without you.
“If you aren’t there and Dev is brought back, you’ll spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been.
What he would have said. What you would have said.
And that’s a hell in which there’d be no end for you, my messy-brained pride and joy.
If Dev is somehow blocked and we cannot contact him, then this is the only chance to find out why.
“Whatever you feel about Issac is separate. I think he lied to you, and you deal with that trifling twink however you see fit. But in the matter of that spell—you need to be a part of it. Whether the experience hurts or heals.”
Marshall grabbed his son and pulled him for a hug. And Schuyler hugged his father in a way he hadn’t since he was a kid.
Schuyler sat back. “I have feelings for Issac. I just don’t know what to do about any of them. Old me would have popped off on him. Every time I feel like I’m getting back to my old self, I realize, nope and I do something different, like with Cal.”
“Monkey, you keep talking about the getting back to your old self. You ever stop to think maybe you left him behind for a reason.
“You could have destroyed human Ambien’s date-rapey ass, but you didn’t. You left him better than you found him. And as much as I wanna hoot and holla’ when one of us Croys pops off on someone, I respect how you handled that. You showed grace, in a world where that’s fleeting.
“Maybe it’s time to leave all that ‘old me would’ve done this’ shit behind. You aren’t him anymore. You’ve grown; you’re someone new. Someone we’re very proud of.”
Schuyler felt grateful for being so loved—two parents who both knew the right things to say.
Though it happening at the same time was a rare occurrence; it was another oddity in an already surreal situation.
Schuyler sat there feeling the echoes of other times, other ages, when they’d all sat together like this and worked their issues out.
In light of everything, he was certain of one thing: those two were the loves of his life.
“If you do have feelings for this kid,” Beau added, “and you can forgive him, do it. My gut says avoid that spell, Monkey. It’ll be nothing but trouble.” He threw dagger eyes at Marshall, who shrugged them off.
“You always gonna be mad about somethin’, baby.” Marshall returned to his ice cream.
Beau was surprised when Schuyler gave him another hug, one rivaling Marshall’s. “I hope that helps.”
“I think it does.”
Schuyler thanked them again and excused himself to his bedroom.
He went to sleep early, tired from the day, from the emotions double-penetrating him every minute they could.
He resolved to see how he felt in the morning, but what Marshall said lingered.
It would be a special kind of mental hell if the spell was successful and Schuyler wasn’t present.
What if Issac mishandled the spell?
What kind of repercussions could there be for him? For Dev? Would a mistake wake the Elders? Did Schuyler have a responsibility to ensure the spell was performed properly? More questions raised, some with tentative answers, but he would wait for the morning light to see if they held up.
Unsure of his place in the world, he curled up in bed questioning how the previous day had started like a porno, with three rounds of incredible sex, and then veered off into a melodrama, complete with semi-nervous breakdown.
He’d felt like an old fool spurned by his lover—and also a young kid, lovingly comforted by his parents, all on the same day.
Schuyler closed his eyes, knowing once he awoke, he’d know what to do.
Except that would soon prove to be utter bullshit.