Chapter Eighteen
AVA-MARIE
I’d heard about the meeting Charlie had called in the Elvish council room.
I hadn’t gone under the guise of recovering from labor, but the truth was I just…
couldn’t face Charlie. Kallie had filled me in on the details, and I still wasn’t sure about this plan, but we also didn’t have any other options.
We were sitting ducks until Emma and Lucas broke the barrier in Edinmyre, if they could even manage it.
In the meantime, I knew I couldn’t wait to do something about the situation with Casey, because I’d already put it off long enough. Whatever I decided had to be soon. If I was going to handle things, I had to have an uncomfortable conversation with my soon-to-be— or maybe not— ex-husband.
My mother had been healing me daily for the past month. I was basically back to normal, all signs of labor gone. But my body had changed in little ways that I’d noticed. I’d held on to more weight, my breasts were different, my hair had become thinner.
I was an invader in a foreign body that I had to get used to all over again, and I couldn’t go back to my former self.
Not even my body could be mine anymore, because disability and childbirth had overtaken it.
This baby had snatched what little I’d kept after my spinal injury had stolen it all, and I resented him because of it.
It wasn’t even his fault. It wasn’t Charlie’s, either— not really. The fault was with me, because I’d let it all happen. I hadn’t paid attention, and now there weren’t two people being hurt by this destructive marriage anymore. There were three. And one of them was completely innocent.
I wasn’t the type of girl that sat around and didn’t take action, but Charlie was the one person I was too afraid to face.
Casey had to go somewhere, and we needed to agree on who was going to raise him.
I figured we weren’t going to make any progress and this whole thing was going to turn into another vicious fight, which was the last thing I wanted.
I couldn’t stand yelling at that man one more time, and I was certain I’d crumble if he kept raising his voice to me.
I could look for a mediary to help us work through this, but I knew Charlie would shut that idea down once I brought it up.
He didn’t like opening up in front of other people, and this conversation required it.
I could bully him into doing what I wanted, but that would make things so much harder.
I wanted him to make things easy on us, so we could find a solution that was good for our son… even if it wasn’t great for us.
Things in the world continued to worsen, which sickened my mood.
The nuclear war that The Mission incited with the humans had intensified, destroying places all over the world while the Warden remained in the afterlife, continuing to fight with the gods for control over the Blessed Haven.
The supernatural news station was calling this the Second Great Supernatural War, an adept description of what was happening out there.
It had hit incredibly close to home. Images flashed across television screens of the ruined California redwoods, destroyed beaches, the entirety of my state’s natural habitat. Los Angeles and San Diego had been wiped off the map, along with countless other cities across the world.
My home was basically gone. I couldn’t go back to it even if the Warden died, because there was nothing left to return to but a crater.
Not to mention all the debris, radiation and fallout caused by the bombs was on the fringe of sending Earth into a potential state of nuclear winter.
Humans and supernaturals were dead in the millions, and more would die due to the potential famine and firestorms caused by the bombs.
We were destroying our planet, our environment, and all hope of life. And for what? So one guy could claim he ruled over it all? Rule over what? Nothing would be left. It was all so wasteful.
I ended up on my parents’ living room couch for days, laying around and not able to do much of anything except stare out the window and try to find a way out of all this existential dread.
I’d grieved the loss of Kinpago, but to lose all of California shattered me.
We could kill the Warden and stop The Mission, but it wouldn’t restore thousands of years of nature that had bloomed within our tribal borders.
Centuries of natural progress had been ruined all around the world, and there was no getting it back in my lifetime, if at all.
On my third day of brooding, Daddy came out of his office, took one look at me and said, “Nope. We’re not doing this.”
“I am,” I mumbled into a throw pillow. “Go away.”
Daddy stooped down to toss a blanket off my legs. “Get off your ass. We’re going to the training arena.”
“To do what?” I sneered. “It’s not like I can cast magic anymore, so training’s useless.”
“Guess you’re going to have to suck it up and learn how to fight without magic.”
“Yeah, like I can fight the Warden like this,” I sneered.
“You’re going to have to learn how. You want to be the commander of the Firebirds, you need to learn how to battle alongside them. I’ve come up with a solution to that issue, so let’s get on with it.”
I faked a cough. “I’m sick. I don’t feel well.”
“Your mom says you’re fine.”
“But my back hurts!” I whined. “My spine is messed up!”
“That’s called being paraplegic.”
“I’m not going anywhere. You have to accommodate my needs, because I’m disabled.” I stuck out my tongue.
“That’s too damn bad, because so am I.” Daddy threw a pillow at me, and I smacked it away from my face. “I’m not taking your shit excuses. Get up, peanut.”
He wasn’t going to leave me alone until I did what he said, so I let a bunch of swear words fly as I hoisted myself off the couch and into my chair. “There. Happy?”
“No. Move it.”
“Make me.” I growled the words through clenched teeth. I hadn’t challenged him since I was a teenager, but I wasn’t giving in without a fight.
Daddy knelt down to look me directly in the eyes. “You’re not going to waste away. I know what that’s like, and it’s an awful existence. I’ll be damned before I let my daughter fall into a pit she can’t pull herself out from, so I’m dragging you out.”
“Fine,” I spat. “But you’re wasting your time.”
“You’re never a waste of my time, peanut. An annoyance, sometimes.”
Daddy took me down to the training arena. It was completely empty. I hadn’t been here since our demigod lessons had taken place. On a table sat a long black case, though I wasn’t sure what was inside of it.
My father opened up the case, withdrawing a wooden bow that was painted blue with elaborate Hawkei designs, runes running up the length. I’d seen it before hanging in my father’s office, but he’d never shown it to me, so I never paid it much attention.
He strung the bow, which didn’t look like too much effort. If Daddy could do it, I figured it couldn’t be too hard to pull back.
“This was your grandfather’s bow,” Daddy said lowly, handing it to me. “He was carrying it when he died, and he went down fighting.”
I’d never shot a bow before. Daddy and Ez sometimes took their bows to go hunting, but I’d never joined them, because I didn’t have any interest. I ran my fingers over the wood. “Why are you giving me this?”
“Because it’s time it was passed down to you.” Daddy knelt beside me again. “Your spirit guide carried this bow. It’s only right that you have it.”
“What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Use it well.”
“What, you mean… like in a fight?”
Daddy nodded.
I sputtered. “What’s this little bow going to do against a thousand magic casters?”
“More than you think it will, but only if you believe in it,” Daddy replied. “The magic isn’t in the power people wield. It’s inside of us. You still have that spark. You just need to call upon it in a different way.”
The bow seemed to tingle beneath my fingers. I swallowed thickly, struggling to breathe.
“I know you’re scared, because you don’t know how to defend yourself anymore, let alone a child,” Daddy said softly. “No mother should ever feel defenseless. I’m going to help you take back your power so you can fight back again.”
“And what if I don’t want to do this?” I glared at him in rebellion.
“I’ve tried to be gentle, sweetheart, and it’s not getting through to you. If you want to do this the hard way and are only going to respond to tough love, guess I gotta play the role of the hard-ass, because your mother sure won’t.”
Daddy reached for a set of arrows tucked into a leather quiver. “Now let’s begin.”
I rolled to the center of the training arena.
The old targets we’d used for our demigod lessons were still here.
Daddy had me turn my chair parallel to the target so I was shooting off my left side.
He showed me where to notch the bow, then helped me to draw it back, correcting my body.
“Straighten up. Balance the bow in your hand; don’t grip it too tight.
Then extend your arm, leaving a slight bend in your elbow.
There you go. When you draw back, you’ll anchor your finger to the corner of your mouth so that every shot’s consistent. ”
Daddy demonstrated like he was holding an imaginary bow, so that I knew where to place my hands. “Deep breath in as you draw, then steady exhale as you aim. Don’t watch the arrow— keep your eye on the target. When you’re ready, release the string gently.”
I had to adjust my body to lean over the side of my chair to make room for the string.
I expected my spine to cry out in protest, or for this to be excruciatingly painful, but it wasn’t.
I didn’t have to twist that far to pull back the bow, and I could adjust my body so the movement was comfortable.