19. Goodbye

They arrived at dawn.

The executioners from the Land of the Dead made their way down the corridor. The ends of their leather-skinned, membranous wings folded at their backs, the clawed ends dragging the floor. Each one wore hoods over their heads.

Naia's eyes went to the executioner holding on to the silver chain and followed it to the other end strapped around her father's neck like a dog. A divine relic in Cassian's possession with the power to bind a deity.

They were taking him to Moros.

A searing pulse of panic thundered in her bloodstream.

This can't be happening.

The blush-toned carnation poking from between Mira's gown, the bright green stem sprouted from her sternum, was tangible proof of Father breaking the rules of his confinement.

How many times had Mira tried ripping the flower from her skin, and watched in absolute fury as it grew back? Naia was unaware, it seemed, of her father's true power. Not only had he struck Mira, but he'd left her with a permanent mark to remember him by.

Naia watched as Mira observed Father from the far end of the corridor without a flicker of emotion. The triplets stood side by side behind her, their faces devoid of heartbreak or sorrow.

Naia bit down on her tongue, and a metallic flavor coated the inside of her mouth. For once, the presence of blood was welcoming. A distraction from the visceral hole separating her chest.

The sharp edges of Wren's wings cut into the skin of her palm. An infinite, bleak road stretched out behind her eyes, void of her father and chess games; of long strolls in the garden and laying out on their favorite cove.

"W-what is happening?" Finnian's voice shook at Naia's side.

Naia clenched her teeth. Tears filled in her eyes, and she blinked them away, determined to hang onto the image of her father. No flowers decorated his glossy, black strands. The vibrant rays of his aura were like a withered blossom.

The tail of his emerald robe trailed behind him along the crystal floor as he grew closer to where Naia and Finnian stood in the corridor.

Naia took a step towards him.

One of the executioners growled. It turned its cloak-covered head in her direction, and a paralyzing terror tremored through her, forcing her body to cease in its movement.

Father stopped and gave a tug on the chain. The executioners halted. One grumbled something. Father nodded once.

He looked between Naia and Finnian. "Take care of each other. Promise me?"

His words were knives twisting in Naia's heart. "You cannot leave us," she said.

A broken smile lifted the corner of his mouth. "Promise me, my darlings?"

"No, Father." Finnian took long, blinking strides, shaking his head. "No."

The executioner jerked Father forward by the manacle around his neck.

A wistful look glistened in his gaze. "I love you both."

He straightened his head and resumed his journey down the corridor. The palace doors spread open for them, flooding in the dark hues of the stormy morning.

"Mother! What is the meaning of this?" Finnian shouted through his tears. "Do something!"

Mira remained as still as the statues the mortals worshiped of her.

Disdain warped Finnian's face. "You are a burden for a mother!" He whipped around and chased after their father. "Father, no! Wait!"

Malik materialized in his path, the sound like a switch cutting across the air, and tackled Finnian onto the floor. His large palm gripped the back of Finnian's skull like a coconut, pinning his knee in the middle of Finnian's back. The crystal cracked beneath Finnian's skull. Cherry-red filled the fractures.

Naia shrieked. "Malik, stop!"

Her brother inclined his head to look at her over his shoulder. A bolt of twisted light sparked in his eyes, goading her to give him a reason to get out his collection of butcher knives.

Without a word, Mira spun, the whisper of her silk dress grazing behind her like a pearl-colored cloud, as she transported away.

Father crossed the threshold of the palace doors, and a sense of helplessness consumed Naia. She pushed off her feet to sprint after him, arms outstretched, reaching for him as if she were a child again. "Father, no!"

In a charcoal puff, they vanished.

Naia's bare feet padded through the puddles collecting on the cobblestone and she fell to her knees. Droplets of rain splattered on the tops of her shoulders, rolling down her scalp. Above her, the sea rumbled and shook to the sound of a whale calling out. The waves ruffled the kelp forest, their tall stalks reaching for the surface. Always growing towards the sunlight penetrating through the water.

Naia felt the absence of her father immediately, as if someone had reached down inside and tore out a piece of her heart.

She folded into herself, pressing her forehead to the rough exterior of the cobblestone.

A gut-wrenching wail ripped out of her throat. She was left with the memories—the light of his smile, always pulling her out of darkness; the soft touch of his fingers against her hand as he led her way.

I love you Naia, deeper than the earth.

She hugged Wren to her chest, the only thing she had left of her father.

A week passed,and during those seven days, Naia did not leave her bed.

Gianna trickled in and out like a mouse to clean her room and deliver her meals. Naia had no desire to eat.

Trapped inside her grief, time transformed seconds into what felt like days. Naia was convinced the agony would never end as she laid underneath the faint scent of lavender emanating from her linen bed cloth.

The succession of events remained fixed in her thoughts—the significance of the necklace, the unleashed fury of Mira, the tragic death of Alke, her desperate attempt to overpower Mira, and the involvement of her father. In the end, her decision to attack Mira was the reason he'd intervened. Because of her, her father was gone.

When Naia's downward spiral wore out her thoughts, she surrendered to sleep.

Until a knock sounded on her door.

Gianna stepped up to Naia's bedside. "Lady Naia, I know you are having a difficult time, but Lord Finnian has not returned to the palace in seven days."

It was like a bucket of cold water dousing over Naia as she slung the blankets from her body.

Feeling disoriented, she blinked and realized she had neglected to check up on Finnian.

Her bare feet slapped on the cold floor, guilt reverberating in the swift beat of her pulse.Pacing through the palace and outside of the grounds, it was a fresh morning. A golden dawn.

The water hole.She knew Finnian would be there.

Naia trudged through the jungle, the sounds of buzzing insects and chirping birds grated her senses. It didn't occur to her she'd run out of the palace without shoes until she stepped down on a sharp rock jutting out of the ground cover. The stickiness of the blood coating the bottom of her foot made her wince, but she paid no mind to the injury.

The minor pain had subsided by the time she emerged in front of the glittering pool of starlight.

Finnian was crouched down in the exact spot where Alke's handmade cage usedto be, his back to her.

Naia hesitated in her step. "Finny?"

"It was all my fault," he mumbled. "I can fix it. I can make it better."

Naia's pulse pounded in her ears as she took a slow step forward. "Finnian?"

"I will make it better. I will fix it. I will bring them back."He spoke in a hushed, slightly deranged manner. Words tumbling out in a jumble, lacking coherence.

She took another wary step, speaking a little louder. "Finny, what are you talking about?"

Finnian's movements froze and his head jerked around.

A sinister aura nipped at Naia's skin, coiling her stomach. It wasn't like the abrasiveness of Mira's, or even the murderous type of Marina's.

Finnian rose from where he was, revealing the vibrant colors of the feathered creature at his feet.

Naia's brow creased. A mixture of confusion and hope twined behind her ribcage.

A bird?Did he find another?

She studied it further, mesmerized by the vivid cobalt blue feathers with delicate golden accents. Eyes that once held the realm of a soul stared back at her, blank and eternal.

Chills ran up Naia's spine and realization slammed into her. "Finnian, no…"

Finnian was smiling, stupidly proud. "I brought Alke back to life."

Naia's blood ran cold. Necromancy.

She lunged forward, squeezing him by the shoulders. "Do you realize what you've done?"

The excitement in Finnian's face melted as he took in the distress on her face. "I don't understand."

"No one can ever discover your talents. Do you understand me?"

"Why? This is wonderful! I can bring back the dead!"

"Finnian!" she snapped loudly—a little too harshly. "Necromancy harbors a soul in a dead vessel. When you hang onto a soul, you are withholding it from the High God of Death and Curses."

"But… But I did this." he pointed to himself. "Cassian cannot take what is not his."

"You are taking what is his, Finnian. Mother will send you away if she finds out."

He blinked in lethargic strides, shaking his head. "Why?"

"She does not wish to anger Lord Cassian any further."

Producing a necromantic child was shameless. Another excuse for Cassian to punish her even further. She would disown Finnian.

"Promise me." Naia shook him, clinging to his boney shoulders. "Promise me you will not let Mother—or the triplets—find out about this. I cannot lose you too, Finny."A sob slipped out of her.

Finnian's brow fell, his eyes losing their lifeline. "Very well, Sister."