The Last Spell 46.2

“My sister could help,” Cyrin said finally. “I’d… just have to come clean about a lot of things.”

Shane stared at him. “Your master plan is begging a movie star to take pity on us.”

Cyrin’s brow furrowed. “Allison would let us lay low with her for a few days. She’d want to help. It’d just require some explaining if I showed up with six other people out of nowhere when I haven’t seen her for several years.”

“Has she done anything for you since you got disowned?” Shane asked, folding his arms over his chest.

He didn’t expect the flicker of pained distress over their face. That was his answer, he supposed.

“She’s had my back before,” Cyrin said quietly. “She was told to cut contact with me, like the rest of my siblings, and she mostly has even though she didn’t want to. But I think she’s the only one of them who hasn’t given up hope on me.”

“She doesn’t know about any of this?”

“No. Not the Arcade, not what I do now, not who I’m with or where I’ve been.” Cyrin paused. “I’m not sure what she believes has happened to me. I don’t think she’s imagining anything good.”

Shane bit his lip. Why couldn’t he just not feel the sympathy curling its claws in his chest? It was there, nestled alongside the grief whispering that they both knew a little too much about losing family. It was making it hard to hate Cyrin.

He wanted to hate them. But he didn’t think he did, or could.

“I take it she doesn’t know Autumn either, then,” he said, allowing his tone to soften.

Cyrin let out a slight huff, but there was no humor in it. “Things would be very different if she did.”

Shane frowned at him. “What?”

“Autumn’s the person I took the deal for. There was no one else caring for her, so I had to step up.” Cyrin swallowed. “But she’s also my niece. Allison’s, too.”

Shane swore he felt something short-circuit in his brain, and he didn’t know how long he stared at them for. Finally, the puzzle-pieces clicked together into the only possible answer.

“You can’t be serious,” Shane said slowly. “On top of everything, Casper’s a deadbeat dad?”

“It’s actually one of his better qualities.” Cyrin shook his head, looking slightly sickened. “The story is too long to share, because I know you don’t want my explanations right now, but Autumn’s mother died of the same condition she’s also sick from. She’s the same age as Magnus. I didn’t want to watch that kind of death happen twice.”

Magnus. It took Shane a second to recall the name— Cyrin’s younger brother, still a child and too small to have gained much worldwide attention. The same brother Sparrow must have threatened to break Cyrin’s defiance. If his parents had known their deaths would save the lives of two kids, would they have found it worth it? Somehow, he knew they would have. That knowledge didn’t make this any easier on him.

There was one thing that possibly could, though.

He took a deep breath.

“You’re going to get her back,” Shane said. “And I won’t get in your way. But I’m going to ask something else of you.”

Cyrin blinked, meeting his gaze seriously.

“I’m listening,” he said.

“I want you to kill Sparrow.”

He watched the expression on Cyrin’s face shift— into confusion, into realization, then into twisted dread. Shane knew he wouldn’t be thrilled at the idea, but somehow he looked less willing than he’d expected. Why? Hadn’t Cyrin tried to, back at the Summer Palace?

“Is that what you want of me?” Cyrin asked quietly. “For your idea of… atonement?”

“I’m going to be honest,” Shane said. “I don’t know that it’ll settle things. But I don’t think anything can, while he’s still out there.”

Cyrin dropped his gaze to the ground. The line of his shoulders was tense.

“I’ll find a way,” he said finally.

A beat of silence passed.

“I understand if it’s not enough for anything approaching forgiveness,” Cyrin said, even fainter. “It’s like you told him. Nothing ever will be.”

Shane pressed his lips together. Those words weren’t meant for Cyrin— he hadn’t even known they were responsible, at the time he’d said it to Sparrow— but of course they would have heard their own condemnation in it too. What was worse was that he didn’t know if he could assure them that it wasn’t true for them.

All he could commit to doing was extending a hand to shake.

Cyrin took it, their palm cool against his. Shane looked down at their hands— then frowned. A glimmer of light sparkled on their wrist from under their sleeve as Cyrin withdrew their arm.

“What’s that?” he asked automatically.

“What’s what?” Cyrin answered.

Shane opened his mouth, then closed it, suddenly unsure. He was still coming up with the words when he heard rushed footsteps over the deck and the swish of a ballgown’s skirt. He turned around just in time to see Dawn running their way.

“Kasumi’s awake,” she blurted.

Shane exchanged a look with Cyrin, and all he could think was a hasty never mind before the two of them hurried after Dawn.

Dawn led them to the ship’s bridge, holding the door open behind her. As they rushed in, Shane saw Kasumi starting to sit up on the couch they’d reclined her on, her face confused as she slowly craned her head. Kaja had moved away from the nearby wheel, placing an arm in front of her.

“Careful,” Kaja said, and Shane almost didn’t recognize her voice. It sounded too… aching to be her. “You’ve got to take it slow.”

“Where are we?” Kasumi muttered, trying to sit up anyway. “Why does it smell like saltwater? Where did Leilan go? There was a kid with us, she’s—”

Kasumi trailed off, her eyes going wide with shock as she gaped. Shane followed her gaze to see she was staring at Cyrin, who lingered uncomfortably near the door.

“Hi,” Cyrin said, and it was the first time Shane had ever heard him sound truly awkward. “Nice to see you again.”

Kasumi’s mouth snapped shut so suddenly that it seemed like she’d bit her tongue.

“Easy,” Kaja cautioned, but there was nothing severe to be found in her tone. “We’re going to catch you up on everything, Kasumi, but don’t exert yourself.”

“It might be better with slightly fewer people around,” Dawn suggested, rather half-heartedly. “Less overwhelming.”

They were all looking at Cyrin now, and Shane understood Dawn was giving him an out so that he didn’t have to be here when he inevitably got discussed. That was more considerate than he might have been.

“I’ll check on Mireya and see if she’s ready to take over again,” Cyrin said, with a glance to Kaja. “You look…”

He didn’t finish his sentence. Kaja stared back vacantly, like she hadn’t even heard him, as Cyrin turned and silently slipped out the door.

Confusion in her gaze, Kasumi pressed a hand to the side of her hand, where the wound and the blood was no longer. “Uh…”

“Cyrin healed you,” Dawn explained. “Mireya was the one to find you and Leilan— he’s safe and with us too.”

“And Autumn? Pia?” Kasumi looked at them desperately.

“Pia didn’t manage to capture Autumn after you got knocked out,” Dawn said carefully. “But the astronaut did. We learned he used to be a friend of Mireya’s, but he’s with the Houses now.”

Shane found himself staring at a spot of blood left on the shoulder of Kasumi’s dress. He hadn’t known what to think when they’d met with Mireya at the pier— what to make of her story of the battlemage, of House secrets too closely kept for even him to know, of Autumn, of Marius. Only a look at Leilan’s shell-shocked face could convince him any of it was true. Even then, it hadn’t yet settled in as fact: every breath of its mention felt like he was hearing it for the first time, all of its weight unprocessed.

Marius was dead. The Heirs had lost a friend that night, and Leilan had seen it happen.

Kasumi’s frown showed she didn’t yet understand either. “He’s not on our side, then?”

“He killed Marius.” Kaja bit the words out. “Of course he’s not on our side.”

Shane snapped his gaze to see her back at the helm, head lowered and jaw clenched. One of her hands was on top of a wheel spoke, ready to move, but not turning it. The other was a fist at her side. He had the thought that he’d never seen her grieving before.

Leilan had been the closest to Marius out of all of them, of course. But the surprising second place was Kaja.

“What do you mean, he…” Kasumi’s voice wavered.

“Marius went after you both,” Dawn said quietly. “He tried to defend Leilan from the astronaut and to keep him from taking Autumn, and the astronaut shot him. He wasn’t in pain for long.”

A sick feeling that had nothing to do with the rocking of the waves coiled up in Shane’s stomach. Kasumi turned pale as she dropped her gaze to her lap. Her mouth opened, but she had nothing to say. He hadn’t either.

“There’s much more,” Dawn said finally. “But it can wait, if you need time with that.”

All the rest— all of it involved him and Cyrin. Shane could half-imagine the look on Kasumi’s face when she heard what Cyrin had done to his parents, and he didn’t want to see it in person. His skin was suddenly crawling with the urge to get out of here.

“I’m going to go find Leilan,” Shane murmured, backing up towards the door. When he was close enough, he turned around.

“Hold on,” he heard Dawn say behind him— and when he paused, she stepped in his way, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. For a second, Shane froze, startled into inaction. But before she could change her mind, he hugged her back tightly, letting the side of her head rest on his shoulder as his heart clenched. He wished he didn’t feel so close to tears all of a sudden, right before he had to be the strong one for Leilan.

But Flint was right. He hadn’t managed to kill his heart.

“You’ve got this,” Shane managed to whisper weakly to her.

“You do too.” He felt Dawn shiver a little as she pulled back, and she gave him a bare, trembling smile before moving to sit beside Kasumi on the couch. Her shoulders were tense and ready to bear the weight of being the messenger of bad news. Swallowing, Shane took a deep breath, staring down the door before finding the courage to push it open.

The last thing he heard before it closed behind him sounded like a stifled noise from Kaja. Distantly, Shane realized it might’ve been her equivalent of a sob.