Even Necromancers Cry

I don’t think Liam ever knew that I saw the look on his face in that moment. I never told him I saw it. When he took my hand and smiled at me, I fancied a look of sadness in Liam’s eyes. I was too young then to know of things like regret and wistfulness. Emotions were basic to me. Sad. Happy. Mad. Sleepy. To me, Liam looked sad despite the smile. It would be years before I ever figured out why.

My father stood there with us, fierce and protective. I don’t think he saw that look in Liam’s eyes. His head was too full of magic and worry. Too much had happened. The discovery of the price on my head, the attack by the wizard bounty hunter that killed Liam, the grief of that loss followed by the preparation for the raising, hiding mom and me until it was completed, and my freak-out at seeing Liam back from the dead. As strong as my father is, even he has a breaking point.

When I was safely tucked in my bed with Liam stationed outside my door, I fell asleep listening to my father sobbing in my mother’s arms.

View this story's 5 comments.