Page 196 of Storm Caller

And I don’t need to say anything, because he’s gone.

68

I’m still clinging to my father’s hand as I drop my head. I won’t deny that, despite everything, this feels like a sort of relief. I spent so many years in this man’s shadow, trying to mold myself into his version of a person I could never be.

And now it’s over.

I’ll never have to look into his eyes and wonder how he’ll hurt me ever again.

Rapid footsteps sound somewhere nearby, but I can’t find the will to move.

A moment later: “Poet?”

Finally, I look up to see Rook approaching with a gun strapped to his chest. He has a cut on his cheek, another slices across his forearm, and his hair is falling into his eyes. A moment ago, I thought that ball of magenta light was so remarkable for its beauty, but no, he’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.

“Rook,” I whisper.

Quickly, he runs over and kneels beside me, his gaze jumping between my father and me.

“Is he . . . ?”

I nod. “Yes. He tried to stop Sol from taking me.”

Rook expels a sharp breath. “Are you okay?” he asks, wrapping an arm around me.

“Yeah,” I say. “I think so. We were able to say a few things to each other, and . . . I guess it has to be enough.”

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“He sacrificed himself for me.” I glance up at Rook. “Am I a horrible person if I confess that if it had to be someone, I’m glad it was him and not you?”

He pulls me close and kisses the top of my head. “Not at all. I think he owed you that at the very least.” I lean into Rook, looping my arms around his waist.

“We should get out of here,” he says after a minute. “What happened to Sol?”

I gesture down the street to where her limp body lies on the pavement.

“Oh, fuck,” Rook breathes. “What happened?”

“I used a ball of Spark on her.”

Rook hisses out a sound of disbelief. “That’s— Wow, I didn’t think I could be any more in love with you.”

I huff out a laugh.

“Is she dead?” he asks.

“I have no idea. She hasn’t moved in a while, though.”

He stands up and walks over, then crouches down and presses two fingers to her throat.

“There’s a pulse,” he says. “But it’s weak.”

I take one last look at my father and join Rook, standing over Sol, watching her lifeless face.

Rook pulls his gun to the front of his body. “We could take care of this. End it for good.”

I consider it. It’s what she deserves. But something about taking her life doesn’t feel right.