Like I’m going through a checklist of the emotions I should feel, rather than actually experiencing them for real.
Her gaze is dark and probing. Seeking a substance that’s no longer there.
The place where my soul once resided is now a vast, empty void.
Still, my heart continues to beat. And, just like before, it beats only for her.
For now, it’s all that I’ve got.
It’ll have to suffice.
“How do you feel?” She blinks back the grief and brings a tentative hand to my cheek.
“Healed.” I force a grin to my cheeks in an effort to prove it.
She meets it with an encouraging look of her own. Her lips parting, about to say something more, when there’s a commotion at the front door and Chepi bursts up the ramp and into the room, followed by the rest of the elders.
My mother comes at me in a flurry of shrieks and tears. Burying me deep into the folds of her arms as she murmurs a string of soft words, spoken in our native tongue.
I smooth my hands down her back, shocked by the way her shoulder blades jut from her flesh. Angel wings she used to call them. Every time I fell ill as a child, she’d fast and pray and slowly waste away until I recovered.
“Mama, please. There’s no reason to cry,” I whisper, “I’m back. I’m safe. I’m healed. And it’s just a matter of time before my soul is restored.”
At the mention of my missing soul, she’s quick to jerk away and stare deep into my eyes. Confirming what I’ve just told her, she whirls on Daire and says, “You promised you’d get his soul back!”
I start to intervene, but to Daire’s credit, she receives the blow gracefully, doesn’t so much as flinch. “I promised to find him, which I did. Restoring his soul is next on the list.”
Chepi is flustered and angry, mumbling words that don’t make any sense. “I’m taking you home.” She pulls at my waist. “You’ve had a long journey, you need to rest.”
I uncurl her fingers and fold my hands over hers. Holding her before me and absorbing her anger until her expression softens, her shoulders droop, and she’s calm enough to hear me when I say, “Mama, please. I don’t need to rest. My body is healed, strong. I can take care of myself. I’ve been languishing too long as it is. First, I need to get my soul back. And then I need to deal with Cade. Only then will I be able to fully rest again.”
“You say you’re strong now, but how long will it last?” Chepi looks to Paloma, seemingly unable to see Axel standing beside her.
“With a little help from a divine source, Dace’s wounds are healed.” Paloma allows a faint smile as she trains her focus on me. “I closed your wounds and gave you a very intense healing infusion. I’m sure you feel the heat swirling within you?”
I nod. It’s intense, but nothing I can’t handle.
She nods
in approval. “Let your temperature be your gauge,” she says. “You’ll know it’s time for another infusion when you begin to feel cool. If you wait too long and grow cold … well, I’m afraid you’ll be right back where you started.” She fixes me with a hardened stare, eager to impart the seriousness of her words.
“So, that’s it?” I crack a half-grin. “When the engine runs cold it’s time for a tune-up?” I translate her warning into the kind of grease-monkey language I understand best.
“How long will it last?” Daire asks. Her bottom lip receding into her mouth, dragged along by her teeth.
“It was a pretty strong dose.” Axel looks between Daire and me. “But there’s no way of knowing for sure.”
“Whatever it is, it’ll have to suffice,” I say, eager to get going. To use the strength while I have it. But Axel remains unconvinced, looking at me with a pinched and troubled face.
“Who are you talking to?” Chepi casts a squinted gaze around the room.
“Axel. Dace’s spirit guide is here,” Daire says, but the words fail to comfort.
“But they only appear when someone is meant to die!” She cries, clutching at me once again.
“Yes. I was meant to die,” I tell her, instantly regretting the blunt tone of my words when I see the look of pain that crosses her face. Still, there’s no point in lying. She deserves to hear the truth. “Only I didn’t die. For whatever reason, I managed to live. So now I’m going to make sure I use my life in a way that matters.” I look at Daire as I add, “Starting now.”
“I understand your impatience to get started,” Leftfoot says, his eyes sending me a silent message I’m slow to understand. “But it’s the middle of the night and you’ve already suffered quite an ordeal. Why not take Chepi’s advice? A few hours of rest won’t make much of a difference.”