Chapter 34 #3
He nods, grinning at the stars as they flicker back at us. Another short word. And this one stops my heart.
Father.
The shock in my expression must be evident. “What is it?” Easton asks.
I hold up a hand. Waiting. Not wanting to get my hopes up.
Lucina spells out the next words, letter by letter, and my heart pounds at each one. My palms grow slick with sweat. Until…
He looks like you.
It’s been a while since I’ve cried. I don’t remember when the last time was, actually. Anger often trumps sadness when it comes to the heaviest of my emotions, but this isn’t sadness. It’s…triumph. Validation. Hope.
I’ve never felt so much of it before.
The tear rolling down my cheek feels foreign on my face.
“Callan?” Pax is beside me now. “What is it? What did she say?”
I can’t take my eyes off the sky.
“Boss,” Devon starts in.
Hunter’s next. “What the hell is going on?”
“He’s alive.” The words spill out before I’ve even had time to process them.
I’ve said them out loud before—when I was trying to prove it to Delia and all of Pirn that they were true—but this is different. This is…real. There’s nothing left to prove. It’s a fact. Truth. Reality. Lucina’s seen him.
Shock has made its way into Pax’s voice. “Grey?” he asks, taking me by the shoulders when I don’t answer. “Callan, is it Grey?”
All I’m able to manage is a nod, and at my slow-spreading smile, Pax curses under his breath. I hear more swearing around the fire, some laughter too, but I’m too focused on the stars.
Saw him? I signal back to Cin. Alive?
The star flashes once. My heart nearly explodes. Yes.
Head falling to my chest, it hangs slack between my shoulders. I wipe my eyes with my sleeve, my heavy inhales morphing into a broken, disbelieving laugh.
All these years... Of refusing to give up and ignoring everyone who said I should. Of mission after mission after mission of nothing. We came home empty-handed every single time, and now…
I laugh again.
My hands are so full I’m not even sure I can carry it all.
“Hey.” Hunter taps my shoulder, and he’s smiling when I look up at him, pointing to the sky. “She’s saying something else.”
Snapping my head up, I catch the end of what she’d said: Down.
“Dammit,” I curse. Repeat, I signal back.
It takes her a second, and I hate that she has to exert the extra energy because of me. Because I hadn’t been paying attention. But when she starts again, her flashes come out just as strong.
The ward comes down, she says.
I’m stunned into silence. Long enough that my coven begins pestering me for answers, frantically glancing between me and the sky.
“Callan, what the hell is it?” Pax asks.
“She said the ward comes down,” I translate, slowly getting to my feet.
“Holy shit,” Easton curses.
Across the fire, Hunter laughs, high-fiving Pax, who’s grinning so wide his cheeks probably hurt.
Even Devon looks tempted to crack a smile, and Phoenix…
he’s got that look in his eye. The one he gets before torture or Rogue hunting.
Before a mission that no one else wants to go on, but he’s crazy enough to be excited for. An animal, ready to pounce.
The second that ward comes down, Nix is going in.
I glance at Kimber, almost forgetting she was here. No one looks happier than her. Head tilted to the sky, her green eyes are glossy as she stares up at the stars.
Lucina signals again, and this time I don’t miss it.
Two days, she tells us. Dawn.
“Gods,” I swear, questioning whether I translated that right.
We weren’t sure how long it would take her, but the longer she’s in there, the greater the risk. Realistically, I was planning for a week, but two days? That’s…insane. Absolutely insane.
“Two days,” I announce to the group, shaking my head at the incredulous laughter that follows.
“Ask her how she did it?” Easton pleads, darting his attention between me and the sky. He’s giddy, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“She needs to conserve her energy,” I remind him.
“Come on,” he begs, looking to the others for backup. Everyone’s so fucking happy that they’ll nod to anything. “Just ask. Please. I’ve got to know.”
Exhaling, I stare up at the sky, finding the star we’ve been using—bright and waiting.
There are a million things I want to say to her right now. A million things we don’t have translations for because I didn’t think they’d be necessary. I was wrong.
Relenting, I signal Easton’s question: How?
It takes her a long time to reply. Long enough that I go from assuming she’s searching for a short explanation to being a bit panicked. I’m seconds from imagining the worst when our star begins to flicker.
One word. Five letters.
Trust.
Easton is waiting eagerly. I can feel his attention on me.
“I don’t know,” I tell him. “She said ‘trust’?”
“Trust?” he questions back.
I shake my head, just as confused, and I’m about to chance my luck at asking for an explanation when she signals again. Short and sweet and…unrelated to my question.
See you soon.
The star blinks out—end of conversation. She took the light with her.