Chapter 32 #2
“You know what I see when I look at you?” I asked her as she glanced at me, shaking her head.
“I see someone strong. I see someone beautiful.
I see someone who wears her heart on her sleeve and loves incandescently.
Your tears are not a sign of weakness. They aren't a sign of anything other than the warm, precious memories you helped cultivate.
Whilst Isaac might not be in the right headspace right now to realise that, you should never, ever, feel guilty about the love you gave him or the way you're feeling right now.”
Esme smiled at me as tears pooled in her eyes, though I was hoping for an entirely different reason.
“You’re not very good at following rule number one.
” Rule number 1: the other party must agree not to get involved when the other two parties are having a disagreement.
No, I suppose I wasn't, but that was okay.
If I was going to be breaking rules, it might as well have been for her.
“I’d break a million rules for you, Esme Morgan.” I laughed, pulling her into another hug.
“Thank you for being there for me,” she said softly.
“I always will be.” No hesitation. No mincing my words.
In her blubbering stupor, Esme turned to Thallor, sniffling and holding up a finger in warning. “I might not look like it right now, but if you hurt her, I will hunt you down and chop off your cock. And that is a fucking promise.”
Thallor looked down at her, fighting the smile tugging at his lips.
“I’d expect nothing less,” he said before turning back into my apartment.
Once he reached the threshold, he paused, turning back to look at us both.
“For what it’s worth, you’re still allowed to miss him. Even if you are better off now.”
I love this male.
I smiled at Esme, who was still looking over at the Thallor, a weary smile and quizzical look etched across her face. “Do you wanna come over for pizza?” I offered. “I think you should. Nothing mends a heart faster than cheesy dough. And ice cream.”
Esme laughed softly. It was short and quiet, but a laugh all the same.
A laugh that said that she would be okay.
I wasn't sure how and I didn't know when, but I knew that she would.
When time did its thing. Piece together the parts of her that were currently shattered.
And I could see it already. She would become a breathtaking mosaic, painstakingly crafted from the scattered pieces of her soul.
She would get back to being Esme eventually.
A newer Esme. A Brighter, happier, Esme–one that was a whole lot tougher too.
“Yeah, okay. But I’m using your boyfriend as a shield. I don’t want Isaac’s parents seeing me.”
I cringed slightly at the word, failing to hide the blush that crept up the side of my face.
But I wasn't cringing for the reason she might have imagined.
From the outside perspective, boyfriend was probably the most fitting description of what Thallor was to me.
But the word felt wrong. Misplaced. Disjointed entirely from how I truly felt about him.
Calling him my boyfriend was like calling a mountain a pebble or an ocean a puddle after one too many days of rain.
It just wasn't enough. I'm not sure any word ever would be.
After saying goodbye to my apartment for the last time and safely making it back to my grandfather’s house, we settled on the sofa to stuff our faces with beer and pizza.
We had spent the evening watching Weird Science.
And then an additional hour chatting whilst Esme and I attempted to explain the film to Thallor; he kept asking questions like “why are they using a computer to make a woman?” and “what does the monster represent?” as though I was the one who’d written the film.
Esme had left a little while later, still a little red and puffy but definitely sounding a lot lighter than she had earlier in the day.
The following morning, my grandfather had taken Mortimer on another one of his self-imposed fishing trips.
He’d offered up two reasons to take a cat—an animal universally known for its aversion to water—out onto the middle of a lake.
The first being that Mortimer had and always would be an outdoor cat, and continuing to encourage that was “staying true to his roots.” The second reason—far less founded in logic or reason—was that in cartoons like the ones I’d watch on a Saturday morning, cats, alley, domesticated or otherwise, all enjoyed eating raw fish.
I appreciated my grandfather's attempt at trying to reason with me when it was clear he’d simply taken a liking to Mort and wanted to have him around. Once he had promised not to feed my cat whatever he caught unless cooked first, I sent them both on their merry way.
I continued to pace around the room as I had been for the last twenty minutes.
Just when I think the universe is done playing tricks on me.
I looked high and low for the little teal book, which continued to evade me as if it had never existed at all.
And it was driving me crazy. Thallor and I had planned for me to make my last wish this weekend.
Coming to the decision to free him from the book had been the easiest one in the world.
But deciding when and how we were going to do that was a little trickier.
Magic always came with rules, and it always came with risks.
Thallor had said as much when this whole thing started, and he had repeated the same sentiment when I was insistent on getting it over with the night after the gala.
But this wasn't like any of the other wishes; we actually needed the Malediction Codex present to carry out the wish.
And once it was out there? There was no undo button or second chances.
Thallor wasn't even sure how his magic would react once he was untethered from the book.
So, we had waited. I'd already been planning to move out right after the gala anyway.
My lease was up, and my grandfather had already hired a truck, so we decided to hold off.
We wanted to wait until the weekend, when my grandfather was away, so that we could proceed without any unexpected interruptions or added complications.
The last thing to do was make the wish, and well, it was pretty difficult to say what would come next.
I just hoped that whatever it was, it would be good.
Thallor and I’s relationship had evolved and taken on new life.
We’d gone from an impossibility to hate to friends before falling for each other, all in a matter of a school year.
He had all but changed my definition of what love meant, and the idea of risking everything we had become made the anxiety gnaw at my insides.
To say I was nervous was an understatement.
I was scared. I was fucking terrified. This relationship?
It had come to mean everything to me. Thallor was everything to me.
And as much as I hated the idea of gambling with something such as this, I knew that I needed Thallor and Thallor needed this.
He needed to be free. And if that meant I needed to risk everything, put everything I had come to love on the line, then I would do it.
I would do it again and again and again until I couldn’t see straight.
I would choose Thallor time and time again.
All I could hope was that at the end of it all, we both got what we wanted. Each other.
“I cannot find the book anywhere,” I grumbled, kicking aside a stray cushion that had made its way into the middle of the bedroom.
Thallor stumbled back into the room with a grim look on his face. One that did nothing to still the uncertainty surging through my veins. “I’ve checked all the boxes,” he said solemnly. “We have unpacked everything.”
Now, Darling, for the most part, was a safe town.
Excusing my run-in with a crazed killer earlier in the year, which was, for all intents and purposes, an abnormality.
I didn't think for a second that I would have any issues leaving my belongings on the sidewalk.
And, anyway, who would steal a tattered old book?
Sure, I wasn't the richest person, and I didn't own many flashy objects, but the Malediction Codex wasn't worth stealing.
“That’s not possible,” I muttered. More to myself than to Thallor. “I had it in my hand. You saw me put it in the box!”
Thallor ran a hand through his dishevelled red hair as he looked at me.
“And there’s no way it dropped as we moved up and down the stairs all day.
” He looked behind him to where the boxes were stacked up in the hall on the other side of the door frame.
As if he could will the book into existence just by looking at them.
I sighed in exasperation, raking my fingers through my own hair, which felt as tangled and chaotic as my thoughts did.
“Then where in the ever-loving fuck has it gone?” I asked through gritted teeth, hoping that someone would answer me, but I was only met with silence from the universe, just like the nine times I had asked previously.
I looked up at Thallor and felt the guilt gnaw at me below the skin.
Without the Malediction Codex, I couldn't free him from his tether to the book.
That thought alone hit me like a slap in the face.
He was bound to that book, and I'd lost it.
He explained that he couldn't be summoned by anyone else, not until I had made my last wish, but without it, I also couldn't wish for him to be free, leaving him chained by the twisted strings that held him captive.
“Okay, let's just retrace,” Thallor suggested.
Think, Quincey, think. I stopped pacing for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts.
My thoughts seem to race every which way except the path I needed them to go.
I pinched at the bridge of my nose and let out an exasperated sigh as I followed the road back to the previous day. Clusterfuck, 5 miles South.
“Okay, okay. I put it in the box, carried it downstairs, and placed it on the pile. You were right behind me. Then I took it to where Esme was just standing. And then we saw Caldwell and Isaac and…”
“And?”
Like a key turning the lock on my memories, the news broadcasts a few months ago flashed in my mind. The Church of the Black Sun had been making the rounds, preaching about a book and teachings that could unlock everything.
“Oh my god…I think they stole the book.”
To say I’d been angry at Caldwell after my grandmother died was an understatement.
I was furious. Rage had filled my body in a way that made my hands tremble and my eyes burn.
I’d always known Caldwell was a cold, callous man.
But that didn’t stop his lack of empathy hitting me like a fifty-tonne truck.
He’d expected me to fail. A part of me knew he wanted me to as well.
I think he got off on the idea of seeing me drowning in my own grief and accepting my own defeat like the subservient little failure I was meant to be.
I’d taken all those feelings and let them fuel something inside of me.
As much as I’d told myself his insults didn’t matter and that I had nothing to prove, I had.
I used Thallor to get an edge on my essay that would have been impossible otherwise.
I’d spoken about things you didn’t learn in textbooks and quoted theories that hadn’t once been mentioned in his lectures.
Everything, slowly but surely, began to click into place.
One puzzle piece after another to create an image so harrowing I could barely keep my knees from bucking underneath me.
I let out a string of curse words, mostly directed at myself for having to prove anything to Caldwell.
After my presentation, he seemed impressed—as much as a man like Caldwell could, anyway.
But he’d been the only other person to take out that book from the library after all.
And it was all starting to make sense. He hadn’t been interested in my essay at all.
He'd been interested in what was written between the lines.
The clandestine bits of insight that I had subconsciously woven into the pages.
My pulse quickened and I almost doubled over with the thoughts that barrelled into my head. They can't summon anyone. It's fine. It's fine. It's fine, right?
“They can't do anything with the book, right? You're tethered to me whilst I still have a wish to make?”
For the first time in all the months of knowing him, Thallor paled. The golden undertones of his skin and the freckles disappeared in place of a stark white that contrasted the colour of his eyes and his hair. I wasn't sure what it was. Fear. Pain. And seemingly every other emotion in between.
“Thallor?” I asked him quietly. No. No. Please don't take him away from me.
“No, they can’t summon me.” Thank God. “But they can summon my brother.” Brother?