the most Silent, most pragmatic Arrows had subconsciously believed it would always be thus, that he was a force of nature immune from time and age.
“I know what they need,” Zaira finished, her voice husky.
Aden nodded, then together, the two of them started to do what they could to help bear the load.
Chapter 28
HELPED BY FRIENDS who’d been there every step of the way, Vasic and Ivy held Zie Zen’s memorial service at the orchard, on a small rise awash in the sunshine his grandfather had loved. Once, when they’d spoken about it, Zie Zen had asked to be cremated and scattered on the winds as he’d done for his Sunny. But first, they would have this ceremony for the living who grieved for him.
Zie Zen had an honor guard of Arrows and empaths—and one gifted scientist.
Ashaya Aleine’s grief was as deep as Vasic’s, but she walked with pride for the man who had been far more to her than Vasic had ever known.
Another woman, her hair golden brown and her hands covered by black, stood waiting for the procession to reach the rise. Vasic had first met her in a different context, hadn’t understood how deeply she’d been entwined in Zie Zen’s quiet and far-reaching rebellion until she’d shown him the golden coin carried by only ten people in the entire world: people who’d been Zie Zen’s most trusted.
Vasic had one of those coins, too.
Clara Alvarez managed Haven, a place where fragmented F-Psy could live in peace—and where Samuel Rain currently made his home. She was holding herself in fierce check, but her features were strained and she stayed close to her husband, a respected prosecutor.
Next to that prosecutor stood another unexpected holder of a coin: Anthony Kyriakus, former Psy Councilor, current member of the Ruling Coalition, Vasic’s occasional ally, and a man who’d publicly opposed Zie Zen a number of times over the decades. Vasic had known the two were allies beneath it all, but until this instant, he hadn’t known how deep ran the trust between them.
Grandfather, I have a feeling I will never know all your secrets.
Ashaya’s son, Keenan, stood with Tavish. He cried, old enough to understand that the man he, too, had called grandfather wasn’t ever going to wake up. Tavish held the younger boy’s hand and told him what Ivy had said to him, while Ashaya’s mate, Dorian, stood behind both children, his hands on their shoulders.
Ivy walked with the honor guard, and she was Vasic’s strength, the gentle force that held everyone together that day.
And there were a lot of people.
Zie Zen hadn’t only been a man who loved a girl called Sunny and a boy called Vasic, he’d been one of the greatest statesmen of their race. Vasic had known his grandfather wouldn’t mind being farewelled without fanfare, but he’d also understood that there were others who needed to know of the passing of this great man. He’d asked Aden to release a single bulletin out into the world.
It had gone viral within five minutes.
Had they permitted it, thousands of people would’ve come here today, thousands of people whose lives Zie Zen had touched, made better. Even his enemies respected him, had sent words to acknowledge the loss of a man unlike any who had come before. The Net had gone silent in respect . . . then filled with stories of Zie Zen’s impact on people around the globe.
Vasic had seen nothing like it in his entire lifetime. Neither had the rest of the squad.
In the end, he and Ivy had made the decision to limit the funeral and memorial service to those closest to Zie Zen, the ones with whom Zie Zen had had the most intimate contact. The others had been invited to contribute their memories and thoughts about Zie Zen to an archive being curated by two librarians who were alive because of Vasic’s great-grandfather.
A hundred people stood here today.
Though Vasic’s heart was heavy, his voice raw, he spoke when it was time. Zie Zen would expect nothing less. “My grandfather lived in Silence when he was a man of passionate conviction not meant for cold emotionlessness, and he worked from within to change that which was broken.”
Vasic wouldn’t speak of Zie Zen’s Sunny, for those memories had been his grandfather’s alone to share. But he could acknowledge that Zie Zen had carried on for near to a century, even though his heart had shattered at twenty-three when his Sunny died. Even though he had missed her