Within These Wicked Walls(92)

“You lived in a cursed castle for three years but you’re scared of a cellar?”

“True love shouldn’t judge, Andromeda.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, covered his mouth and nose. “I’m with you. Lead the way.”

Everything was as I left it, with the addition of about six more layers of dirt, and a few rats. It smelled like rotting produce. Dancing dust and shadows looked like ghosts come to protest our intrusion. But there was nothing to fear here … only memories. Those could only hurt you if you let them.

“It’s a literal storage cellar,” he said, between coughs.

“True love shouldn’t judge, Magnus,” I teased.

I went into the bedroom, directly to the side table where I knew there would be an oil lamp. Rats and insects scattered at the invasive light. My heart was suddenly in my stomach, pulsing and aching and making me nauseous, but it wasn’t due to the new occupants.

Jember’s indent was still in his side of the bed. His clothes were still on the floor and folded on the shelf on the wall. I knelt down to open the supply chest, and the familiar scent of incense, trapped inside the chest all this time, tickled my nose. I grabbed Jember’s debtera robe from the top of the pile and buried my nose in the fabric.

“I miss you,” I whispered into it, and for the first time in a month tears began to well out of me.

I felt Magnus crouch behind me, rubbing my arms. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this today.”

“It’s okay.” I wiped my tears quickly and shut the chest. “This is long overdue.”

I moved to the bed, a puff of dust rising around me as I sat, but I barely noticed Magnus’s coughing as I opened the dresser. His pipe. His pills. His …

I took out the stationery, the letter Jember had been working on still on top. A grin slipped to my lips. “I have to read this.” I waved Magnus to sit beside me. “I know you never liked Jember, but do me a favor and don’t interject with insults.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” He gave me a sheepish grin when I raised my eyebrows. “I’m grateful for his sacrifice. I don’t know what I would’ve done if…”

I pressed my thumb to his brow to smooth the furrows there. “Don’t think of it, Magnus. We don’t have to anymore.”

He shifted behind me, hugging me close. “Distract me, my darling. I promise I won’t interrupt.”

I was suddenly aware of my father’s familiar handwriting in front of me, and I cleared my throat a few times to get rid of a tickle.

Saba, I don’t know why you still love me. I am the reason you’re dead.



His words chilled me, and I had to take a few deep breaths to soothe myself.

I was afraid choosing a job solely for money would attract the Evil Eye. It was a cowardly decision, and we’ve both suffered greatly for it. Apologies are not enough.



There were a few sentences crossed out—petty words of frustration, felt in the heat of the moment, that I knew he didn’t mean—so I left those out as I continued, “‘The debtera you hired is my—’” I choked on a sob. “‘My daughter.’”

For a moment I couldn’t go on. Magnus held me closer, but it didn’t stop tears from stinging the backs of my eyes.

She’s brilliant, you’re in capable hands. But she’s all I have in this world, so send her back in one piece, will you?



“Send her back, my ass,” Magnus grumbled into my hair, holding me closer. “I’m keeping her.”

I burst into laughter. “Magnus!”

“Sorry, you’re right, I promised. No more interruptions.”

As much as I owe you your last request, I don’t know how to love in a way that isn’t led by fear. If that’s confusing, ask Andi and I’m sure she’ll explain how I break her heart on a daily basis.



“I forgive you,” I said to the letter, as if Jember could hear me through it, then went on.

Please don’t contact me again. Andi will lay your soul to rest soon, and you’ll forget all about me. But I don’t think I could bear losing you twice in one lifetime.



I flipped the page over, and over again, but there was nothing left but crossed-off words and absentminded amulet strokes.

“I’m glad he never sent this,” Magnus said, and when I looked at him his expression was somber. “They were meant to separate—neither of us would be alive right now if they hadn’t. But no one should have to be alone at the end.”

We were quiet for a long moment.

I chewed on my lip. I couldn’t do a proper funeral. Jember wouldn’t have wanted one. Saba had already had one, twenty years ago. I was a month too late, but I had to do something.

I went to the supply chest, thankful to find a single disk of silver. I took my welding pen out of my pocket. “Can you bear the dust for a little longer?”

We sat on the stairs so Magnus could get fresh air without going outside, and I got to work on an amulet. I didn’t really know what I was doing. The dead generally didn’t have need for amulets—for them, it was too late. But this was what I knew. This was what Jember had taught me, what had saved Saba. It was the only way I knew to honor them.

I worked as if a fire had been ignited in me. The amulet came together quickly, and by the time I was finished my hand was cramping but I didn’t care. I nailed the amulet to the wall and stepped back to stare at it.