Chapter 26 #3
Antaris is asleep in his arms, face tucked into the crook of his neck, grip still tight.
His breathing is deep and even. Hiram collects his broken, waterlogged thoughts until Veda drops to her knees before him.
She says nothing, only swiping a thumb beneath one eye.
Then the other. They’re wet. He never noticed.
“I need a few minutes,” he murmurs, trying to recenter himself in a world that’s shifted beneath his feet. “I know there’s a lot to discuss . . .”
“Take your time.”
He’ll never be able to explain the relief he feels when Veda doesn’t leave.
Knowledge is a painful, double-edged sword.
August keeps throwing worried looks at the still sleeping Antaris, who is stretched out on the couch wrapped in one of his blankets.
August sits close, keeping watch over his friend while sneaking peeks at the cartoons playing quietly.
Veda seems to be on guard as well, though some of her vigilance is directed at Hiram, if the cursory glances and the grounding weight of her leg pressed against his are anything to go by.
“All I did was open the door to that safe space,” Khadijah tells him, calm and steady. “He has to choose to come out. So now we wait.”
“How long?” Hiram wonders.
“Until he’s ready, continue as you are. Be his father. Steady. Patient. Present. Nothing different from now,” she replies, expression turning serious. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s easy to mistake the manifestation of Sight in children for a trauma response. Don’t blame yourself.”
He does anyway.
“I think . . .” Veda hesitates, glancing at the couch.
“I think he’s the reason the herbs at school and Hiram’s house have been growing like crazy.
The olive tree . . . I think it’s been him, too, however unconscious.
” She looks stricken. “I taught him a little protection symbol he does over everything. I didn’t know . . .”
“Neither did he,” Peter says. “He’s an untrained child. He’ll be taught to control his magic and the laws of Sight. What he’s done so far is minor. Granted, what happened today was not, but he’ll learn that he can’t react so viscerally to every vision he has.”
“Thanks.” Hiram takes it all in until his best friend claps a hand on his shoulder in support.
“I’ll take it from here. Talk to his teachers when the term starts. Get him enrolled in Clinton’s classes for new Seers. Introduce him to other child Seers his age at the community center. We’ll bring August in, too, to help him understand. I’ll work with him on control, too.”
“Okay.”
“You need to make a decision about the Tree of Knowledge.”
Hiram recoils at Khadijah’s statement.
“I know, but it’s a choice you have to make as his parent. You can elect for him to eat fruit from the Tree and become Unseen or not. The Ellises have used that option in the past when a child manifested Sight at a young age . . . or even as a teenager. Sometimes, even without the child’s consent.”
Hiram isn’t surprised. They will do anything to maintain the illusion of purity.
“As far as the Registration is concerned, children are redacted until they turn sixteen,” Peter tells him. “If you’re worried about the rest of your family coming after him—”
“I’m not worried,” Hiram replies, resolute. “I’m not taking away his Sight, and if anyone finds out and comes here to endanger him, they’ll need protection. From me.”
The floating lantern hovers at the foot of Antaris’s bed. Hiram sits on the edge.
Antaris has been like Velcro since everyone left, which is typically an indicator that Hiram will be spending the night on the floor in his room.
Sorry, Antaris signs.
“You think you’ve done something wrong?” Hiram asks.
He looks at his hands, meekly nodding.
“Look at me.” Hiram gently shifts closer as Antaris meets his eyes. “I’m upset, yes, but at myself. It hurts to see you hurting. I should have figured it out, but I won’t blame myself if you don’t.”
Hiram offers his hand. Antaris takes it. They shake on it.
“Never apologize for who you are.” At this, Antaris’s mouth forms a little O of surprise.
“Your mom was a Seer, which means you have a little more of her in you.” Hiram stops as Antaris looks at him once, his eyes searching.
Resting a hand on the boy’s damp curls, he adds quietly, “I’m not ashamed. I’m proud to be your dad.”
Antaris surges up to hug him. Because he can, Hiram holds him a little tighter, a little longer, until Antaris lies back down and signs good night.
Good night, Hiram signs back.
He waits until Antaris is sound asleep before slipping out and heading to bed himself. Climbing under the sheets, he knows he won’t sleep for hours—until Veda emerges from the bathroom, smelling like his soap. The bed dips as she joins him under the covers.
“You okay?” she asks. “Today was a lot.”
“Better now that we talked.”
“Good.” Veda’s voice is barely a whisper as she shifts closer, eyes finding his even in the near darkness.
Hiram doesn’t expect her to move, but then her lips brush his, slow and deep, soothing away the long day.
Hiram leans into it, his hand trailing up her side.
He knows Veda won’t admit she likes his touch; she’ll make excuses even as she shivers, because while her lips might lie, her body never does.
When she pulls away, Hiram can admit it’s not enough. Not even close.
“Thank you,” he murmurs.
Veda rolls her eyes. “Must you do that? Soon we’ll be fully civil with each other, and that sounds terrible.”
He laughs because their fight at the school feels like a lifetime ago. “It does. Just awful.”
“I’m glad we agree on something.” Her gaze drops to his arm, not for the first time, lingering on his tattoos, fingers tracing her amulet’s eye. When she catches him watching, Hiram draws her closer, dipping his head to kiss her covered shoulder, his hand tracing her shape.
“I’m not having sex with you.”
“Not tonight,” Hiram murmurs. “We’ll get there.
” He grins at her sharp inhale. “You brought it up, which means you’re already thinking about it.
” Brown eyes widen, lips part in protest, but he gently brings a finger against them before she can speak.
“I thought I liked sleeping alone, but maybe I don’t.
See? I can admit that. Unlike you, who won’t even admit that you like these .
. . nightcaps. Or that you sleep better in my bed. ”
“Only thing I’ll admit is I hate being cuddled.”
She rolls onto her side, her back to him, but doesn’t protest when he tangles their legs and wraps an arm around her.
“You lie,” he murmurs near her ear. “Terribly.”
“You’re warm,” she mumbles between yawns.
“And your feet are ice.”
Veda doesn’t respond. She’s already asleep, breathing deeply. Hiram chuckles softly, pressing another kiss to her shoulder. Before he knows it, he’s asleep, too.