38. Cinn
thirty-eight
Cinn
B right lights. So bright.
Cinn brought one aching arm up, draping it across his eyes. Sadly, he was defenceless against the irritating loud beeping of the machinery that promised he was alive.
His first act was to tear out the numerous wires and tubes that were burrowed into him while Elliot tried to restrain his arms and Darcy shouted for a doctor. Julien, lying bare chested on the bed next to him, had simply stared at him, frozen still aside from his slow blinks.
As soon as Cinn was functional, the multiple rounds of him demanding his discharge began—from Cinn only, as Julien, Elliot and Darcy traitorously seemed to want to keep him there for as long as possible—and he was signed off to be discharged after one more night of observation. His sudden, rapid recovery astounded the doctors, and Noir, who’d dropped in to see him later that day.
And so, Cinn was released into the cool, quiet evening, the hospital doors a more than welcome sight.
After a single step, he stumbled to a halt, frozen stone still, processing what he could see.
Almost every inch of tarmac, pavement, and brick wall was plastered in a layer of… trash ? No, the paper turning Auri into a red sea, was too uniform. Cinn bent his aching body down to snatch one from the ground .
The Arcane Purifiers’s mark, printed in a stark crimson, took up most of the space. The colour choice accentuated the impression of violence that the sharp slashing lines through the central circle alluded to. Underneath the symbol, a lone sentence in a harsh scrawl: Ignorance will lead to certain peril .
Someone scoffed. Cinn dragged his eyes away from the ominous warning to find Elliot scowling.
“If the gendarmerie get ordered to clean up this mess, I’m rioting.”
Darcy slowly turned her head, slack-jawed. “There must be thousands.”
Julien kicked the ground with his boot, uplifting several pieces of paper, sending them flying off in the breeze. “All they’ve achieved is to piss everyone off even more. Pathetic.”
For a fleeting moment, Darcy opened her mouth, then a glance at Cinn had her snapping it shut again. “Let’s get you home.”
Julien pursed his lips. “Wait here and I’ll bring Maz up to you.”
Cinn laughed in Julien’s face.
“Wow. Pardon me. You literally almost died,” Julien snapped.
“So did you, by the sound of it, you fucking idiot,” Cinn snapped right back. He still couldn’t quite believe Julien had played Russian roulette with the Mortalisfade again.
“Stop, or I’ll bang your heads together,” Darcy threatened.
The walk to the car was silent after that.
Then, with the smooth grace Cinn had come to expect from Maz and Julien, they were sliding out of the car park and soon cresting the top of the steep hill that overlooked Auri.
“Stop,” Cinn suddenly declared, fairly dramatically and surprising himself. “Sorry. I mean, please could we stop for a second? I feel like I need some fresh air before the drive home. ”
Julien glanced at the other two in the rear-view mirror, likely sharing his concern for their still-crazed patient. Then he nodded, pulling over into a lay-by.
Leading the way, Cinn jumped over a fence to access a sweeping field, enjoying the stretch of his muscles that had been still for too long. Cinn threw himself down on the bank of long dewy grass, with Julien soon joining him, followed by Darcy and Elliot sandwiching them in between.
Although there was a chill in the air, there was no wind, only a profound sense of stillness, as if all of nature and all of Auri below them had come to a pause.
The dusky twilight view was breathtaking. He’d already been here for what felt like a lifetime now, but he still felt freshly awestruck every time he was in its presence. His eye drifted across the horizon, absorbing the towering spires of St. Caelum’s, reaching up to touch the starry sky.
Just across from it was the grand building of Aurelia Library, where he’d been spending a shocking amount of free time. Yes, him , Cinn Saunders, choosing to be in a library. Cinn could read Noir’s stupid texts far easier now, with Julien’s motecraft overlay making the words stop dancing around the page. Plus, he couldn’t deny it was cosy in there.
Next he studied the domed glasshouse, the Solstice Atrium, where apparently only the very important people of the consortium were allowed in for very important meetings. And if he squinted, he could even see the vague outline of Curio Café Collective, although half of it was hidden behind a large tree. Every drink he purchased from there was slowly turning him into a coffee snob. Soon he’d be joining Julien in throwing his Nescafé supply onto a bonfire.
All in all, Auri felt increasingly like… home .
Julien lit a single cigarette, and for a while they passed it between all four of them, blowing the smoke towards the glittering lights.
Something in Julien’s partially unzipped rucksack caught his eye.
A bundle of soft, olive-green material .
He reached into the bag, snatched it out, and pulled it onto his head where it belonged, all without looking Julien’s way.
The slightest catch of Julien’s breath, whisper soft.
Wordlessly, Cinn inched his hand closer to Julien’s, until he could hook his pinky finger around Julien’s own. Julien didn’t react, not until the slight up-curve of his lips as he squeezed around Cinn’s finger, before sliding their palms together to entwine Cinn’s entire hand with his.
Cinn exhaled an unsteady breath, wanting more than anything to throw his head on Julien’s shoulder. He and Julien had a long, long road ahead, starting with a lengthy conversation. Julien had tried to have it with him in the hospital last night—Elliot and Darcy had left to find some sort of nurse come apple-juice witch, and a whole barrage of words had poured like a waterfall out of Julien. A ramble of an apology that bordered on insane, words of self-deprecation that Cinn wanted to shove back into his mouth.
“Julien,” he’d said, and Julien had instantly stopped, pausing in his anxious pacing to look at him. “Not now.” And then, after Julien’s crestfallen face had just about broken his damned heart, he added in a far softer tone, “But later.”
In the weeks spent ignoring him, Cinn discovered from Bradley—and then Tyler, under duress—the exact circumstances that had led to Julien’s outrageously inappropriate boundary crossing. Cinn hadn’t completely forgiven Julien; they were a way off that. He knew he could, though. And he hoped he could get through to his crazy, broken mess of a boy. Maybe slot a few of his pieces back into place. So he squeezed Julien’s hand as tight as he could, enjoying the sight of relief and elation dancing across Julien’s face.
“So… what now, team?” Elliot said after a stretching silence, to Darcy’s laughter.
Where to begin?
A murderous locket, shrouded in treachery .
An ugly cat made of shadows on the loose, which may or may not be a reincarnation of a dead sister.
A community of moteblessed at war, divided into factions.
A world being increasingly threatened by the enigmatic umbraphage.
Just a handful of months ago, none of this would have had anything to do with Cinn. Really, he should be chopping vegetables at Rosewood Parlour right now, preparing for the evening sitting.
But should he actually? Cinn looked to Julien, then to Darcy, and Elliot. No. He was right where he belonged. And although their challenges felt insurmountable at present, that was just it. They were their challenges to face. Together.
Darcy was the first to speak. “Well, for starters, how about a nice cup of tea?”