Page 97 of The Last Kelpie

I shot it back and swallowed. The elixir tasted like honeysuckle nectar. It was cool going down, then warm, then effervescent. Tingles spread through my chest, my limbs, and then my fingertips. It was as if my body was remembering something it had forgotten. As if every cell had woken up and decided to work at its highest potential.

When I opened my eyes, Áedán was watching me with an expression I'd never seen before. Wonder. Relief. Love so fierce it made my chest ache.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

I sighed and shivered. “Like I have all the time in the world.”

Baba Yara snorted. “A hundred years isn't all the time in the world. But it's a good start.” She waved us toward the door. “Now get out. I have work to do. First, I have to make more elixir.”

Outside, the sun was setting. The sky turned gold and pink, with lavender streaks, the colors bleeding into each other like watercolors. Áedán took my hand as we walked back toward the apartments. Caelum drifted away, heading to Velas's oak.

“Thank you.” Áedán lifted my hand and kissed it.

“For what?”

“For choosing me.” He grinned. “Not that immortality is a hardship, but thank you nonetheless.”

I stopped walking and turned to face him. “I will always choose you. Every time. For as long as you choose me.”

Áedán pulled me into a kiss that was both wild and tender all at once. Joy burst between us, shivering from me to him and back. When we pulled apart, he was smiling without any shadows in his eyes. Only pure, untainted happiness.

“Come on. It's time to celebrate.” I grabbed his hand, and we ran to my room.

Chapter Thirty-Five

The next morning, at breakfast, Caelum announced that the Velasca would begin a new tradition. After every successful assignment, we would hold a Remembering. We would share memories about the saved myth and celebrate their past as well as their future. He told everyone to prepare to share a memory they had of Áedán at his Remembering that night.

I spent the day packing the rest of my things, thinking about which memory I'd share of Áedán, and making love to him. When not making love to me, Áedán spent his time speaking to electricians and ordering things for the cottage using my credit card. He had his own bank account, set up for him by the Velasca, but I didn't want him using his bank card online.

That night, the entire Velasca, or at least everyone currently at the estate, gathered around Velas's oak for Áedán's Remembering. Caelum stood before the oak, with Áedán beside him, looking nervous.

“We are here to remember Áedán Lomond.” Caelum held an arm out toward Áedán. “Tonight we record our memories of him because that is who we are. We do not forget. But we do this with joyful hearts, knowing that there will be so much more to remember, so many memories left for Áedán to make. We do this to honor what came before, to celebrate what is now, and to anticipate what will come.” Flowers bloomed under Caelum's feet. “Who will speak first?”

Mateo stepped forward. “I will.” He looked at Áedán with the same warmth he gave everyone who entered his hall. “When Ethan first brought Áedán here—not Áedán's first visit, mind you, but his first with Ethan. I went for a midnight snack and found Áedán in my kitchen. I thought he was raiding the pantry as everyone does. But he was just sitting at the table, staring at nothing. I asked if he was hungry. He said no. I made him food anyway, because that's what I do.”

A few people laughed softly.

“He told me he couldn't remember what his mother's cooking tasted like. That he knew he used to make bread with her, but couldn't remember how.” Mateo's voice roughened. “So I taught him how to make bread. We spent four hours making bread, and he told me stories about his mother while the dough rose.” Mateo walked up to Áedán and pulled him into a brief, fierce hug. “These belong to you.” He handed Áedán a little notebook.

Áedán opened the book. “My stories aboot my mother.”

“I wrote down everything you said after you left.”

“Thank you, Mateo.”

“I'm a Velascan. Just because I spend most of my time cooking, it doesn't mean I don't know how to record stories.” Mateo stepped back.

Agnes moved forward next, holding the book that contained Áedán's story and would contain the stories we told that night. She paused her writing to tell a story about Áedán getting lost in the Archive, back when he had first come to the estate. That was long before I had met him. As she spoke, it sank in that all the humans there were far older than I'd thought. They'd all been at the estate when Áedán had first visited. Not just the other myths. The humans had been so careful not to say anything around me that might give away their ages. I had to prove myself first. But now that I was one of them, they spoke freely.

Zoe stepped forward and talked about playing chess with Áedán. Then Rory. Brannoc. Julian. There were so many wonderful memories I'd never heard. I wanted to be with Áedán, standing beside him as people told his stories. But this wasn't about me. He needed to stand there with Caelum and hear how much he meant to us. Even Zephyr stepped up the hill and squawked at Áedán.

I found myself stepping forward before I'd consciously decided to move. “I have a memory to share.”

Áedán's eyes found mine, so bright in the light of the lamps strewn around us. “It had better not be aboot that damn check-out machine.”

I laughed. “It's not.”

“Very well then. Proceed.”