Chapter 40 #2
I spoke hesitantly, knowing what I was asking him. “I’m sorry to ask you this, but he’s somehow wrapped up in this. And I don’t know why. Violet made it sound like he was supposed to teach me something. I know you don’t like to talk about it, but—”
Finn laid a hand over mine, stopping their twisting.
“It’s alright, Lexie. I’ll tell you what I can.
” He paused, his warm hazel eyes cloudy with memories.
“Growing up, we idolized him. He was powerful, respected here as the Champion, but to us, he was just Da. He always seemed happiest when he was in Maraleth with just the four of us. As I got older, I started to realize whenever we came here, to Valdris, there was something tense about him. Something he didn’t have at home.
Here, he was always on his guard. He smiled less. Talked less.”
I felt like an interloper, hating the fact that I was making him go down these paths, but Violet had said to use memories, and I was taking her at her word.
“He always made time for us,” Finn continued, “but when he did, he was distracted. He and Mam seemed to be fighting more. Although about what, I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture so familiar it made my heart ache for Griff.
“When we were approaching our twenty-fifth birthday, there was a shift. Even at home, he acted tense. He upped the training he was giving us, spending hours each day working with both of us on fighting and wielding. He was desperate to teach me how to ward. He spent hours on the wards on the house, having me check them over for any tiny hole, any imperfection. And…” He trailed off, staring unseeing at the books scattered across the table.
“What is it?” I prompted gently.
“About six months before he disappeared, I found him burning papers at home. Stacks and stacks of them. When I asked what they were, he just waved me off with something about old research that was no longer needed. But I remember thinking it was strange. Da never threw away knowledge. He hoarded it. Loved books and learning.”
“Sounds like someone else I know.”
He grinned briefly, acknowledging the comparison before leaning forward, caught up in the puzzle of it. “Lexie, what you’re describing—completely erasing all mention of something from the past and present—that would require significant magic. It would take years. And would leave traces.”
“What kind of traces?”
“Gaps. Inconsistences.” He pointed at the copy of the original prophecy, with the blurred words that had been read as “power.”
“Anything else about your father that you can remember?” I asked gently.
I held Finn’s hand as he told me of the last days he’d spent with his whole family.
His voice grew quieter as he spoke of the waiting, the uncertainty.
How Griff had stopped talking about him entirely after the first year.
How Everly would flinch any time Finn brought him up, until Finn too stopped talking about him.
My heart broke for him, for all three of them, as he choked on the words. He’d never forgotten him. Never would.
And something niggled in the back of my mind—the wards in Maraleth, at Griff’s childhood home. Those wards still stood.
When he fell silent, I squeezed his hand, offering what comfort I could. He raised my hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to my fingers, his eyes never leaving mine as the moment shifted abruptly into dangerous territory.
Oh shit. I knew that look. Knew it intimately. Just not on his face.
With his free hand, he brushed a lock of my hair behind my ear, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. The tenderness of it all made my chest tight. Not because of desire, but because of guilt.
He had never again mentioned that kiss before I went back in time. I had half thought, half hoped, he’d just forgotten it.
Delicately, I ducked my head, breaking his hold, and disengaged my hand. He didn’t have his brother’s talent for masking his feelings. Confusion rippled across his face, followed by hurt he tried to hide, before his face carefully settled into his typical expression.
This guilt was going to eat me alive. I felt sick as I thought of how I’d just hurt him by pulling away, a hurt that would pale in comparison to the eventual betrayal he would feel when he learned I was bound to Griff.
Kaia was right. We couldn’t let this go on for too much longer. Finn deserved to know.
“Does that help?” he asked, deliberately casual.
I nodded, but it didn’t. Not really. I had made everything more complicated and I still had no idea what Garrett had done or how to undo it.
And unfortunately, I knew who I needed to ask now.
As much as I tried to avoid any interaction with my grandfather, he was wrapped up in Violet’s memories regarding Starfire.
Maybe there was a chance he still knew something or whatever Garrett did could be reversed if I talked to him about it.
I asked Finn to accompany me, wishing yet again that my mate was here.
When we arrived at Zachariah’s study, I steeled myself.
Finn took my hand and squeezed, silently telling me he was with me.
I hadn’t set foot in Zachariah’s rooms since my disastrous first day in Valdris.
The door was open, but he wasn’t alone. I paused in the doorway before knocking, debating the wisdom of this, but Andrei motioned me to come in, as a messenger finished up his report.
Finn and I slid into the room, easing the door closed behind us as Zachariah spared us barely a glance, all of his attention fixated on the messenger and the grim picture he was painting.
My stomach turned as the messenger spoke of coordinated attacks.
The Veil itself screaming in agony, every person with strong channels able to feel it.
Holes spreading faster than ever before, too many for the Veil to heal before another one was torn into the fabric of our protection.
Lost contact with border towns. People gone without a sign of struggle.
Refugee camps overflowing. People dying.
Being turned, becoming an army of hufen.
As the messenger continued conveying the information, my hand sought Finn’s and I clung to it.
“And Griff?” I couldn’t stop myself from choking out to Andrei standing at my side.