A Wish Upon the Stars (Tales From Verania 4)
“Oh. Sorry. Oh yes! I am so here to save you and stuff.”
“He hasn’t talked to humans in long time,” Kevin said. “He’s forgotten how. I haven’t, and I’ve noticed that no one has given me all of their things. Which means you have disappointed Lord Dragon. I might just have to consume your children.”
The crowd took a step back.
“I’m kidding,” Kevin said, rolling his eyes. “I mean, I will be kidding if you give me something shiny right now.”
“You’re not going to eat their children,” I told him.
“Right? Can you just imagine? I mean, it’d be population control, but still.”
“We’ll consider it if there’s not enough food for—”
“Sam? Sam?”
My breath caught in my chest at the sound of her voice. My eyes burned immediately.
She was pushing her way through the crowd. She didn’t look much different than she had before. Maybe her hair had a few more streaks of gray, and maybe the lines around her eyes were a little more pronounced, but none of that mattered. Because she was here, alive and well from what I could see, and I couldn’t have asked for anything more.
Well, until I saw the large man following behind her, growling at everyone to get the hell out of his way, godsdammit, because that was his son.
People moved quite quickly after that.
My knees felt a little weak as they burst out of the crowd. My heart hurt, but it was a good pain.
My mother, Rosemary Haversford, didn’t slow down. She hurtled toward me, face wet, arms outstretched, and I was helpless at the sight of it. I whimpered, “Mom?” before she collided with me, almost knocking us both over. Her grip was strong as she threw her arms around my neck, my chin at the top of her head as she trembled against me. I felt her tears at my throat, but before I could do anything, my father, Joshua Haversford, picked us up in his great big arms and clutched us to his chest.
Once, when I was young, Morgan of Shadows came to our house in the slums to take us away from that life and offer us another.
That was the first time I’d seen my father cry.
He’d been a man about it, his eyes wet but tears refusing to fall. But his voice had been hoarse, and I remember watching him with such awe to know that my father, my hero, could cry just like everyone else.
And here, now, he did it again. Except he didn’t hold anything back this time. His cheek was pressed against the top of my head and he was sobbing, voice breaking as he said, “My boy, my boy, my boy.”
I could only hold on helplessly, part of me feeling like it was being stitched back together.
I was home.
I was home.
I was home.
THEY WOULDN’T let me go for the longest time.
Wait. Let me walk that back.
I wouldn’t let them go for the longest time.
When my father tried to pull away to get a better look at me, I made a wounded noise in the back of my throat and clutched the both of them tighter, refusing to allow any more distance between us than was absolutely necessary.
Along the edges of my vision and through the blur of tears, I could see the crowd dispersing at the request of Lady Tina and the Foxy Lady Brigade. She glanced back at me, a strange, almost soft look on her face, until she saw me watching her. She stiffened, scowled at me, then stalked away into Camp HaveHeart.
I would deal with her later.
Kevin had curled his tail around us protectively, keeping watch, growling at anyone who tried to get too near. I heard Katya and Brant whispering to each other as they walked into the camp, and I reminded myself to seek them out later and give them my thanks.
Eventually we were reduced to sniffling. I thought maybe I could compose myself enough to attempt conversation, and made to pull away.