Chapter 53 #3
Known the times I needed him to come back for us and battled the sting of disappointment when he couldn’t.
Known the times I wished he was dead. Wished he wasn’t a burden.
I feel sick. With the horror. With the guilt.
Thoughts aren’t meant to be heard and feelings not meant to be felt by others.
They’re private. That’s why we have speech.
The time it takes for thoughts to get from brain to mouth is used to soften and modulate the harsh realities of our feelings, which are far more basic and primitive than anyone would ever admit to.
‘Excuse me,’ I mutter, suddenly overwhelmed by the need for space. Without so much as a backward glance, I stride away from the relative safety of the fire and closer to the tug in me which says Fen.
I’ll never know for sure, I realise. I’ll never know if Father still had his Torailian magic. But he … he gambled sometimes. And he won when he did. He didn’t play frequently, but when he did … he always won.
I swallow hard.
And if he still had his Torailian magic, then did Mother still have her Issen powers? She certainly didn’t stop making the ‘health’ tonic, and making us take it religiously.
I struggle with her choice to do that to us. Surely even Issen magic would have been better than no magic?
No, that’s foolishness. A flash of ice and we would have been devoured by a dire wolf.
Besides, no one in the slums needs to be colder.
I try to think back to those dark times. To the dark thoughts I had then. Thoughts my father might have lived with as much as his own.
A chill runs down my spine.
Gods, did he drink not just for the agony of losing Florian, but to silence the despair of all the people around him? The despair of the slums? My despair?
‘Rose!’ Kyor calls after me as I stumble forward.
Ignoring him, I stride deeper into the trees. My father … he might have heard every negative thought I ever had of him. And at the end of his days, there were many. Gods, so many.
‘Thorn!’ Kyor reaches me and tugs my arm, forcing me to stop. His eyes scan mine. ‘Talk to me. What’s going on?’
His eyes are so full of worry that I can’t stop the words from spilling out of me.
‘In the end, my father was a drunkard, a wastrel. Another pressure on the family, another mouth to feed. After the stripping, he worked as a labourer on his good days, but drank most of his earnings away on his bad ones. His depression was so sharp I felt like Kay and I weren’t enough for him to live for once Mother … ’
I shake my head, try again. ‘And if he could hear my thoughts all that time …’ A tear slips down my cheek as my throat constricts. Just one tear, but then another, and then they’re freely flowing as Kyor pulls me into his arms.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says tightly. And I don’t know if he’s apologising for getting us cast out or just that I had to live through it.
I suppose it doesn’t even matter.
It takes a long time for me to sob my heart out, but when I’m done, I feel calmer.
‘Not all powers are equal,’ he offers gently as he dries my tears.
‘Not everyone with cyclone powers can lift a whole garrison of soldiers, as your father could. He was so strong in that magic, maybe his Torailian magic was far weaker. Those with a few powers normally have a dominant one. And maybe his Torailian magic was stripped. He might never have heard your thoughts.’
I nod and cling to the hope he offers me. ‘Maybe. And you’re right, Mother could grow plants like me, but her dominant magic was encouraging flow and healing.’
I press the heels of my hands to my burning eyes.
‘I feel like I was just wrapping my head around maybe having some Issen heritage, and now I find out I’m related to those bastards, too?
And they’re not magic-less at all. They’ve got power, which means I’ve got power.
What if I lose control of that, too? What if I … What if Kay and—’
‘Rose, you need to calm down, okay? We’ll work through this. I promise.’
‘That’s not a promise you can keep!’ I throw my hands up into the air, aware of the icy rage that fills me.
Icy rage I thought I had control of, but how can I?
How can I have control of anything, when every time I get my head straight, I’m struck by another power?
This isn’t the way it’s meant to be. Everyone should only have one power.
One. Perhaps a facet of two. But no one wants the melting pot I seem to be.
‘Rose, love …’ Kyor’s eyes widen. ‘Your eyes … you need to calm down. Focus on something else. You can do this.’
‘And what do you suggest I focus on?’ I spit out, trying to claw back my anger at the injustice of it all and push it down. But I’m failing. Dangerously so. It’s roaring in my veins, and something within me is trembling, too close to the surface.
He’s right. I can feel it in me, but there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it. Not a single distraction that’s going to stop this from happening. ‘What the fuck can I focus on?’ I repeat, not expecting an answer, only for him to offer one all the same.
‘This,’ he says and presses his lips to mine.