Into This River I Drown - By Tj Klune Page 0,33

onto. Calliel lowers his head and she cups his face in her hands, rubbing her thumbs gently over his cheeks. He closes his eyes, and, remarkably, hums a contented sound that causes the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. The blues (Prussian and cobalt and azure and indigo and so many, many more) spin in tighter circles and the shapes behind his shoulders become more pronounced until I can no longer deny the outline of great wings that stretch around him.

The night has gone silent around us, as if we three are the only living things left on the planet. I’m aware of every breath I take, every beat of my heart, every thought that rushes through my head. It’s not as if my ears are plugged, no; it’s as if I can hear clearly for the first time and I’ve focused on every single little thing that ever was and ever will be. Bright flashes of light burst behind my eyes, but I can’t look away.

“Hello,” Nina says, her voice filled with awe.

“Hello, Nina Fisette,” the stranger says, turning his face in her hands so it rests against her left palm.

“You came,” she says. “I didn’t think you would. I didn’t think you could.”

“He called for me,” he tells her, never taking his gaze from hers. “He called for me and I would not say no. I made a promise. To him. To you. You know this, little one.”

“Promises are made to be broken,” she says, her voice breaking. My heart stutters in my chest. “Promises aren’t always kept, even if they’re meant to be.”

“Not mine,” he says, reaching up to his face to place his hand on top of hers. “Not to you. Never to him.”

“Does he know yet, you think? Does he realize?”

Calliel glances up at me, the blue dancing around him causing his eyes to spark. The feather in my hand grows hotter still, but I can’t look away. Much is said in his eyes, but I can’t decipher any of it. My breath hitches in my throat and my eyes start to burn, and all I can hear is my father in my head saying, Wake up. Wake up, Benji. He’s come down from On High and you need to wake up. Open your eyes and see. Wake up.

“Not yet,” Calliel tells my aunt as he watches me. “But he will.”

“He’ll be difficult,” she warns him gently. “He won’t know what to do. You know this, yes?”

“I know,” he says, looking back down at her, the blues beginning to fade. “I’ve watched for a very long time. I can see the patterns. The shapes. The design that connects you all.”

She chuckles. “And are you in the design? Can you see yourself there?”

He shakes his head. “It’s hidden from me. I don’t remember much from up there. I remember knowing the call was coming, knowing it would be soon. I just don’t….” He squints his eyes shut. “There is much I don’t remember. Pieces. Large pieces disconnected because parts are missing. I think I knew this would happen. I think I didn’t care. I’ve been trying to put the pieces back together so the shapes make sense, but it’s still too soon. Little one, what if I don’t belong here?”

“Then we’ll deal with it as it comes,” she says, patting his face gently. “But you’ll never know unless you try. Your blue is so lovely. So warm and so beautiful. Lonely, but beautiful.”

He grins and preens under her hands.

The night is slowly returning, darkness filtering back in. Crickets are chirping. Wind is blowing through the trees. Off in the distance is the high-pitched yip of a coyote. My heartbeat slows. My breath evens out.

When the final blue fades into the night, Nina drops her hands and takes a step back from him. “There is much you can teach each other,” she tells him quietly. “But he is trapped too.”

He nods. “I know.”

“I think I shall call you Blue,” she announces, clapping her hands together. “But I still want to know your real name.”

“Calliel.”

“Calliel,” she repeats, tasting the word on her tongue. “Very pretty. And strong. It suits you. Can I still call you Blue?” She sounds like a little girl, shyly asking for what she thinks she’ll never get.

He smiles. “You can call me what you like, little one.”

She giggles and holds her arms out, spinning in circles, her laughter spilling out in all directions. When she stops, she’s facing me.

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