Chapter 33 #2
“Antaris is a Seer. He’s your grandson. His value isn’t in his abilities—it’s in who he is as a person. The same goes for Khadijah. She saved your husband’s life and sacrificed so much so Antaris and I could get to safety. Clinton, too. Any Seer.”
Simran is quiet for a moment. “I wish to change,” she says finally. “I do not know where to start. Your friend Khadijah will not speak to me.”
“Hold yourself accountable. Hold your friends accountable for their actions and words. Educate yourself. Books and articles can start helping you see the world through a lens other than your own. We live in a world where Mages make the rules and Seers are expected to follow them. It’s not Khadijah’s or any Seer’s responsibility to convince you or change your mind and see them as worthy of existing alongside you.
There’s more I could say, more I can tell you to do, but ultimately, it’s on you.
You aren’t going to change overnight. I don’t expect that.
What I do expect is for you to mess up along the way, but I hope you don’t quit. ”
Simran walks back to her chair and picks up her knitting before sitting once more. “I do not intend to quit. I do not know how to do such a thing.”
“Good.”
It isn’t a guarantee, but it is a start. A new beginning.
It goes unspoken, but it’s understood, after it’s determined that Veda’s magic is returning normally, she goes back to Hiram’s house. He walks with her, each step slow, but steady. The moment Antaris sees her, he freezes, apprehension clouding his face, anxiety stopping him in his tracks.
“Hi,” Veda says gently.
The single word snaps him out of stasis. Hiram quietly encourages him, and Veda doesn’t wait. She opens her arms wide and hugs him tight. Her body aches, muscles sore and protesting, but she ignores it, her focus entirely on him.
“It’s okay,” she says softly as he tentatively pulls back. “I know you were scared, but you did so well. You were so brave.” She wraps her arms around him again, this time even tighter and without a care about the pain.
He needs this. She needs this.
His tears come fast, soaking into her shoulder as she squats to his level.
Her knees throb, but she doesn’t move. Antaris sobs harder, burying his face in her neck, and Veda whispers quiet reassurances to let him know she’s here.
Real. Alive. Veda takes a moment to remind herself, too.
She doesn’t let go until his sobs fade into soft sniffles, and he leans against her, damp-cheeked and exhausted.
Later, Peter comes by with Khadijah, as promised. Veda joins her on the back porch while Antaris sleeps, the two of them staring out across the water. It’s strange to see her again. There’s much to say, given everything they lost, yet neither speaks for a long time.
Veda breaks the silence. “How are you?”
Khadijah turns slightly. “Me? What about you? Tell the truth.”
“Recovering from foxglove poisoning isn’t for the weak, but I’m here. Grateful for it, even.” Veda rolls her shoulders, wincing slightly. “You? Peter told me what happened.”
“I’m Unseen,” she says bluntly. “I’m coping. One day at a time. Peter’s been helping me adjust, but I’m more shocked by everyone’s reaction. The Unseen are usually left to drift, but people keep bringing food to our house, keep checking in on us . . . I know it’s because—”
“They care.” Veda fidgets. “I’ll never be able to thank you for what you did.”
“Then don’t,” Khadijah tells her earnestly. “I would have made the same decision again knowing the outcome.”
Veda rests her head on her friend’s shoulder and wraps an arm around her, grateful not only for her sacrifice but also her friendship. Khadijah rests her head on hers, and they settle into a comfortable silence, watching as sunlight dances across the surface of the lake—still, yet endlessly moving.
Walking through the wreckage of her cottage, Veda assesses the debris. She’s not alone.
Hiram holds her hand as they move from room to room.
She tells him stories about what the place was like when she first moved in, her voice soft as her fingers trail over battered furniture.
She looks at the scorched remnants and shares memories, though she doesn’t need to take any with her.
Not even her ruined talisman. Instead, she thanks the scorched walls for what they once held.
Hiram senses her sadness in yet another thing she has lost, but also her contentment.
In the charred remains of the solarium, she stands still.
“This is no longer mine, but that’s okay. Let’s go,” she says.
“How far?”
They return to their island sanctuary. It’s as they left it, but they are not.
Hiram is the first to fall asleep. Antaris and August doze in the hammock, swaying gently, while Peter and Khadijah nod off in the breeze on the balcony overlooking the Sound. Veda stays awake and watches the sunset in grateful reverence. It’s dusk when she’s interrupted.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” Hiram murmurs, his sleepy voice loud in the quiet surrounding them.
“I will.”
He tugs her back to their room before Veda eases into the bed with him.
A careful arm wraps around her as she turns on her side to face him.
Hiram’s gaze holds something she can’t articulate, while her own feelings and sentiments sit on the tip of her tongue, ready to be expressed. Yet she doesn’t voice them.
“Did you sleep at all?” Hiram asks.
“Not yet.”
“I think today was the first time I’ve been able to sleep since . . .” He trails off, the storm in his eyes encroaching.
Startled by the painful undercurrent of his answer, and lost in the swell between them, Veda reaches out as much as her body allows.
She’s still sore, but she twines their hands together, sweeping a thumb over his knuckles repeatedly.
The rest of her energy is devoted to brushing her lips against Hiram’s, letting them linger.
There’s nothing more vital in the world than this single kiss.
This fragile moment is firm but tender. Hiram doesn’t pull away until his heavy eyes flutter shut and his body begins to relax beside hers.
“What keeps you awake?” he asks.
Veda shifts closer, too tired to lie. “Thoughts. Memories. You.”
Hiram tenses, his eyes as blue as the sky stretched over a treacherous sea. Tumultuous and untamable. Indifferent to mankind’s whims. Veda does nothing except wait him out, but that doesn’t stop her from trying to navigate the storm.
“Have you processed everything yet? Talked to anyone about finding me? I—”
“I have.” Hiram touches her face, looking at her as if she can’t be real. “But I don’t want to talk about that tonight.”
Instead, he tangles their legs together and draws her closer. Veda’s fingers slowly, tentatively caress his face. She’s on the cliffside of affection, nervous that she’s going to fall.
But maybe you should, an errant thought whispers.
“I don’t have plans,” she murmurs. “I didn’t expect to survive, but now . . . I-I’m overwhelmed with options.”
“Are you leaving?”
Veda considers him for a long moment. “Not unless you are.”
Hiram is fully awake, nerves ghosting his features. “I’m not.”
“I want to figure out what I want, what works for us, and I’d like to do it together.”
“Why?”
“Because I have time, and I no longer want to waste it.”
The corners of his lips twitch. “And why else?”
Her glare sharpens. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am,” he says smugly. “I think I’ve earned it.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re aggravating.”
“I know,” Hiram says.
“And an arrogant shit.”
“I know.”
It’s madness. It’s irrational. It’s terrifying. But it’s time.
Veda settles her head on his chest, his hand running the length of her back. She closes her eyes. There is grace in surrender. Peace in the free fall.
No more excuses, no more running. It’s time to stop denying herself happiness.
Veda relents. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“I know.” His smile softens, words earnest, only for her. “I love you, too.”