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Gideon: “Are you all right?”

The poor bastard had been afraid to ask her how she was doing. She supposed that was fair. They hadn’t parted on explosive terms by any means, but it still hadn’t exactly been smooth. For all he knew, she had decided she hated him. Knowing his mopey ass, that was probably what he assumed.

Did she hate him?

No. She should. She really, really should.

But she didn’t.

Clicking the little image she had uploaded onto her phone to represent him—a screen shot of a Nazgul from the Lord of the Rings movies, she hit “call.” It rang for a split second before he picked up. Silence.

She smiled. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

More silence. She looked down at her lap, picking at the rat-chewed-through edge of the Ziploc bag her sandwich had been in. “I’m all right. I mean. I guess I’m great, actually. Here I am, being the world’s most powerful necromancer, going where I want, making spooky friends, doing whatever I want. But…”

“But?”

I’m doing it without you. And it feels so empty sometimes. She wasn’t ready for that. She took a sharp left turn in the conversation to avoid that particular pothole. “Rinnie and Ally got married. They officially quit the Order after we learned you and Gabe were in cahoots. Oh, by the way, fuck you for that.”

“Ah. Yes.” He cleared his throat. “It was necessary to impart a sense of urgency to the whole ordeal, and, well.” He paused. “I’m sorry I had to deceive you again.”

“Was that the last of it?”

“It was, I promise.”

“I get why you did it. I don’t like it, but I get why. And of all the bullshit you’ve pulled, that’s probably the most harmless lie you’ve told.”

“Thank…you?”

She smirked. “And besides, honestly, Gabe’s a nice guy. I like him. We met up for drinks a few weeks ago near the Vatican. They won’t let me within a mile of the grounds, though.” She snickered. “I can’t imagine why.”

“Couldn’t possibly begin to fathom.”

Silence reigned again for a moment as they sat there, each not sure what to say. She took a sip of her soda, glad she had something to fidget with. She started twisting the little metal pull-tab around in a circle. “I went home. Weird to see it as a museum now. I remember sitting in the chairs, running around the halls, knocking things off tables. Fuck, I’ve probably broken a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of antiques in my life. It’s a weird thought.”

“Being ageless like we are is a strange thing to adapt to. I once saw some random pieces of my mail featured in a glass case at the Smithsonian.” He chuckled. “It was unnerving, bizarre, and vaguely offensive. The letters weren’t even interesting.”

She laughed. “God damn, I didn’t even think about that. I bet I’ve got a dress on a mannequin somewhere. Shit.”

“Why did you go to the castle?”

“I don’t know, honestly. Closure? Curiosity?” She looked out over at the ruins again. “I guess I expected to feel that tragedy all over again. To feel like I did the night I jumped.”

“And?”

“And I don’t. I just feel…I don’t know. Not what I expected. It’s hard to reconcile the fact that, to me, I just remembered that part of my past, and now it’s nothing but rubble.” She was rambling a bit, but it felt cathartic. “The village is gone, too. It’s just a field. Time moved on, and my head is still struggling to catch up.”

“You’re adjusting to the reality of your existence. Grappling with these changes is what it means to be immortal. How you chose to handle it will decide what you become.”

“What do you mean?”

“Some creatures like us become tyrants—seeking to control the world around them in a desperate attempt to keep it from changing. Some, like me, are prone to occasional meddling, but are mostly peaceful observers. Most withdraw completely, choosing to become recluses in lieu of watching time whiz by them.”

“I’m afraid to make mortal friends, I won’t lie. Gabe and Rinnie are going to die someday.”

“Just try not to think of mortals as pets. That’s another trap we fall into.” She heard glassware tinking in the background. He was probably mixing himself a drink. She didn’t blame him. “Toying with creatures that will die before us or adopting them like a cat or a dog. Humans aren’t lesser than us.”


Tags: Kathryn Ann Kingsley Memento Mori Fantasy