Kelly Gay: The Hour of Dust and Ashes

She shook her head and smiled. “Except you really need a bath.”

“Thank you, my darling child, for pointing that out.”

“Well, you always say to tell the truth …” She stood and held out a small hand to help me up. “Can you stand?”

I took the help, gripping her small hand. Once I was up on my feet and balanced, I hugged her tightly, breathing in her scent and whispering into her hair. “Thank you.”

She pulled back. “For what?”

I smiled and moved a strand of hair from her cheek. “For what you said to Melki. I never want you to put yourself in harm’s way, but—” I cradled both of her cheeks in my palms—“Your courage makes me proud … And I love you.”

“I love you, too. Your glow is fading,” she said with tears in her eyes. “And I was hoping to take you to show-and-tell.”

A half laugh broke through my lips. God, she was getting more like Rex every day. I glanced around the ballroom to get my bearings. The ballroom doors were closed and several warlocks guarded the entrance. The music was off, but the disco ball still spun. From beyond the doors and windows came the sounds of party horns and the sudden rise of voices as they started counting down to New Year’s.

TEN! NINE! EIGHT!

I continued my perusal and found Rex.

SEVEN! SIX! FIVE!

He stood apart from the others. Tears of joy and sorrow ran down his face.

FOUR! THREE!

My heart sank. He knew. Will was gone.

TWO! ONE!

Sadness, grief, understanding, acceptance, it all passed between us in one moment, one look of pure understanding.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

My daughter had lost her father. Forever.

Horns and clapping erupted with the crack of fire-works somewhere high overhead.

“Mom.” Emma tugged at me. I was squeezing her hand too hard. I let go and turned. She grinned broadly at me. “Happy New Year.”

I wrapped her in a hug, whispering against her neck as my heart broke. “Happy New Year, kid.”

“I love you, Momma.”

“I love you, too.”

After clearing the ballroom, we took our small party upstairs to the room Bryn was using during her stay at the League.

Before I went into the room, I used the League phone in the hallway and called the chief—mine had gotten lost somewhere in Charbydon, if I had to guess. I told the chief what had happened to Hank in the parking lot, minus the details of his past—that was for him to tell, not me—and he was swift in his response.

“I’ll put an immediate call in to the terminal. If they try to take him back through the gate, we’ll detain them,” the chief declared. “I’ll get in touch with Washington and I’ll put some serious pressure on the siren delegate here in town. I’ll call as soon as I know anything. Get some rest, Madigan. You’ve been through hell. Literally. If we need to go in and take him back, I’ll need you one hundred percent.”

Easier said than done. Hank was a U.S. citizen. He had rights, and the sirens couldn’t just come into our city and kidnap one of our own. Our big, bad bosses in Washington needed to step up to the plate and do something, anything, to get him back.

“Charlie,” he said more gently than I’d ever heard him before. “There’s nothing you can do at this point. Go home. Eat. Sleep. Let me do my thing. We’ll find him and get him back.”

“Thanks, Chief.” I hung up the phone and stood there staring at the hall table until Emma poked her head around Bryn’s door. “You coming in?”

“Yeah.” I shook my head and went inside to stand by Bryn’s bed side.

The glow on her was almost gone now, and her cuffs had been removed.

“And Solomon?” Aaron asked, staring down at her with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Gone.” But that only solved one part of the problem. She was still addicted to ash and some of the others were still possessed. “Does she have any ash doses here?”

Aaron stepped into the bathroom and rooted in the medicine cabinet. “She has two here,” he called, shut the cabinet, and came back into the room. “I’ll see she gett.”

“Thanks. Why don’t you and the guys”—I gestured to the two warlocks and Rex—“step out for a minute. I know she wouldn’t want to sleep in those clothes.”

Emma and I removed Bryn’s soiled clothes, washed her off the best we could with damp washcloths, and then dressed her in clean pajamas. After that was done, we pulled the comforter out from under her to cover her properly.

“Thank you, Char …” she mumbled.

I kissed her cheek. “You’re welcome, little sis.”

I straightened, gazing down at Bryn.

“What happened in Charbydon, Mom? Where’s Hank?”

A tight sensation gripped my chest, making me wince. Hank was probably already back in Fiallan. “Let’s just go home. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.” My Nwyvre buzz was wearing off and the exhaustion was starting to set in along with the beginnings of a monster headache.

In the hallway, I explained the situation in detail to Aaron, including Carreg’s version of what had happened. The House of Abaddon would be coming for answers. I had no idea how long we had. “As soon as she wakes up, call me. Don’t let them see her until Rex and I can talk to her.”

“You have my word.”

“Thank you, Aaron.” Before he turned to go, I grabbed his arm. “She has paid enough. You need to move on or forgive her.”

A muscle flexed in his shadowed jaw. I thought he might lay into me about sticking my nose where it didn’t belong, but he just stared at me for a long moment before saying, “I already have. She just won’t accept it.”

He slipped quietly back into the room.

I gathered my kid and my Revenant and went home.

Rex and I took separate showers, washing blood and layers of Charbydon sand and grit down the drain. I sat in the tub, knees pulled to my chest, and cried. For Will. For Emma. And for Hank. I couldn’t save him. I’d had to choose. And I knew in my heart I had done the right thing.

And the chief was right, too. I was spent. I didn’t even have the strength to lift my firearm and focus on a target. Knowing this, though, didn’t make the guilt go away.

Once clean, I dressed for bed, went downstairs, and rang in the New Year, albeit late, around the kitchen table with my family.

I smiled. I talked. I ate the ice cream drenched in hot fudge and whipped cream that Emma decided we should have since she couldn’t drink the bottle of champagne Rex had apparently stolen from the Mordecai House.

But inside I mourned. Rex mourned, too; I could see it behind the stupid jokes and the goofy smiles. We made that moment special for Emma. Because she had lost something irreplaceable and soon her life would change and her heart would break …

The pall continued to hang over me as I tucked my sleepy kid into bed. “Night, kiddo.” I kissed her forehead.

“Smarty pants.” I shook my head, stepped over Brim snoozing on the carpet, and paused before closing her door. “Brim needs a bath first thing tomorrow. He reeks.”

“Okay.”

I shut the door and went tiredly down the stairs, every step carrying with it more weight and worry. The kitchen lights were already off, and the soft glow of the television led me down the hall to the living room where Rex sat on the couch.

I plopped down, pulling my feet in and snuggling into the cushy vee where the arm and the back of the couch met.

Rex turned down the volume and then angled his body to face me. “What the hell happened back there, Charlie?”

I didn’t even know if the tale would come. It took a long time for me to answer, to find the right words, the right state of mind. I found neither. “He wanted to leave,” I finally said.