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Story: Barons of Decay
“I just wanted to stop my uncle! You don’t know what he’s capable of!” I reach for his hand. “I didn’t know–”
“Youneverknow,” he snaps. “Because you don’t think. Youfeel. You act. You destroy.”
I flinch, finally, and he sees it. Enjoys it. Enjoys hurting me, the same way he thinks I hurt him. His grip softens, but only so he can draw it out.
“I carried you out of that inferno,” he says, voice low and mean. “Because I’m not done with you yet. You think today was bad? You think waking up here, wrapped in bandages and consequences, is punishment?” He leans closer, lips brushing my ear. “It’s going to be worse. So much worse. And I’m going to enjoy every last fucking second of it.”
He releases me.
The room is still. His shadow flickers in the dim light, stretching long and monstrous across the wall. He doesn’t leave. He can’t. We’re both trapped with one another until someone tells us we can leave.
We both may have survived death for the second time, but I don’t know if we’re going to survive one another.
EPILOGUE
Timothy
I find them outside,behind the former rectory. Ares’ nose is to the ground, tracking something as he heads to the trees–tail high, eyes alert. The dog came home from the vet yesterday, and I don’t think Hunter’s let him out of his sight since.
“Dog’s looking good,” I say as I approach. “What’s the prognosis?”
“The vet said to have him take it easy for a while. No long runs.” Hunter doesn’t look convinced. His arms are crossed, his jaw tight. DK looks up first, still pale, still moving slower than a man should at his age. But he’s alive and he’ll heal.
“How’re you holding up?” I ask him directly. “Dr. Stallworth is convinced you’ll have a full recovery.”
DK shrugs, then winces like the motion pulled at something deep inside. “I’m alright. Lungs are still pissed at me for going head first into that fire. But I’m okay.”
In another situation they’d be replaced. Three new Barons selected for the rest of the year, but the events of the past fewdays will make them stronger and even more loyal. I chose them for a reason, and now I know my instincts were right.
“Take a walk with me.”
They follow without question. We walk past the dormitory, where lights glow in the windows, a sign the Shadows are at home, safe and secure.
My family is all back in one place.
“Did I ever tell you why I chose you two to wear the mask?” I ask, my hands folded behind my back, eyes fixed on the path ahead.
Neither answers. They’re quiet. Listening.
“I picked you,” I say slowly, “because you’ve both been touched by death. Real death. Not the loss of someone close, or a distant relative, but the kind where you’re grazed by its fingertips and left scorched. The kind that leaves something inside you blackened.”
I turn slightly. DK meets my gaze, uncertain.
“You,” I nod toward him, eyes on that wicked, beautiful scar. “You held death’s eyes while that other boy sliced you in two. You know what it’s like to come back different.”
“Yeah,” he says, eyes cast to the ground, “I do.”
Hunter’s eyes flick to me, quick and sharp. I ask, “Death doesn’t always leave scars, does it?”
He shakes his head. “No, sir.”
A crease appears on DK’s forehead, a tell that he’s unaware of Hunter’s history. It’s too precious. Too raw. Humiliating. It’s his story to tell. Not mine.
“When death comes for you and lets you escape, there’s a reason. You’ve been given a third,” my eyes flick to Hunter, “if notfourth, chance.” They don’t speak, but something shifts in the air between us. “People think that we’re obsessed with death, but that is only part of the story. The Barons are obsessed withlife. We understand the fragility–the gift of having a heartbeat,a pulse throbbing through our veins. You two more than anyone else.”
We stop at a statue in the garden. A shrouded king cast in bronze. A crown sits on his head, a skull cradled in his hands. A pentagram hangs around his neck and at the bottom are the wordsMemento Mori.
“I want to thank you for the efforts you made to save the Baroness,” I tell them both. “No matter her flaws, she is precious to this house, not only because she is my wife, but because she too, has been blessed by death, and we must respect that.”
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