What the fuck has he done?
“Please, Véa.Please.”
“Who’s that?” a little voice said behind me.
Footsteps pattered past me. My nine-year-old collapsed into his uncle’s chest, squeezing him tight and laughing, exchanging some pleasantries. Lux hugged him with all his might, which made all of this even more peculiar.
Yes, he hugged my children. Yes, they loved their uncle. But it was usually a quick embrace followed by a treat of some kind, then telling them to go play so Lux could speak with their father.
This… this was the hug of someone who thought they’d never see this child again.
I grabbed Mirobhail’s shoulder and pulled him back, staring at Lux as I did. “Go upstairs, mi lim.”
“But—”
“No buts. It’s time for bed. And take your sister.” I lowered my daughter to his arms. She was nearly his size, but he never minded carting her around.
“But Lux just—”
“Listen to your mother.” Lux straightened, giving Mirobhail’s head a scratch. I telekinetically shoved his hand away. Whatever this was about, he didn’t need to get close to my children for it. Catching my gaze, he took a step back, as if to say he was sorry for interfering. Giving Mirobhail a smile, he said, “Time for bed, esiasch.”
Mirobhail expressed his annoyance with an eye roll before he disappeared. Lapsing to his bed, I hoped.
Once he was gone, and Lux opened his mouth to speak, I cut him off with a wagging finger. “Unless Nix is here, you do not touch my children.”
“He ran to me. Was I supposed to push him away?”
“Aye. Just because he doesn’t remember what you did doesn’t mean I forgot—”
“I understand. I’m sorry.” His eyes weren’t apologetic, but dreary still, like they’d been when he answered the door. “May I come in?”
I doubted he would leave until I said yes.
With a step backward, I held the door open.
* * *
We sat near the fire on opposite ends. The sofa felt too casual. The benches Nix liked to sit on when he played his guitar were mobile, so I could adjust my distance apart from him.
As we sat, I expected he would get straight into it. He pounded on my door in the middle of the night like he was in such a hurry, but now he sat there wringing his shaking hands together. It was only when he reached for the mug of tea I’d made us that I noticed his fingernails, and the edges of his hairline.
I thought it was dirt at first, but when he pushed the hair from his face, it smeared.
Ashes.
He was covered in ashes, and he was anxious.
“What happened, Lux?” I asked.
Silence. Silence that felt like it’d never end, my heart stomping harder with each tick that passed.
Eventually, he choked out, “I’ve… I’ve done an awful thing, Véa.”
“You say that like it’s shocking,” I said under my breath. He glared and turned back to his cup. “It just wouldn’t be the first time, would it? What is it? What happened?”
Another stretch of quiet, only thehooof an owl sounding outside. “They don’t care about our people. They didn’t—they never wanted us to bring them back.”
“What’re you talking about?”