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The clock ticking on the wall declares it half three in the morning. On the kitchen table sits half a cup of coffee, coloured circles telegraphing small sips. One knee pulled up to his chest, Hunter rubs at his eyes. He should be sleeping, but he just– can’t. Not after what happened today. Or yesterday, he supposes.
Everyone else had cried. Earlier, separate and together, some sniffling, some sobbing. Willow hadn’t broken till Gus had fallen asleep, the tears silently streaming down her crumpled face. He alone of the souls who had poured into that yellow kitchen had remained dry eyed.
He takes another sip of the coffee. It’s stone cold.
Luz stumbles down the stairs, bare feet loud in the silence. She slides into the seat next to him, eyes red-rimmed, hair a mess. There’s a long silence. “Hey,” she says at last.
“Hey,” Hunter replies tonelessly.
She traces shapes into the table. “Do you think–” she starts, cutting off abruptly.
“I try not to.”
She laughs and it’s a tiny pathetic sound. “Come on,” she takes the mug and dumps it in the sink. “Let’s go for a walk.”
Outside, the air is crisp. There’s no wind, and the dew is gathering on the grass. The stars above him are strange and new, but he can’t be assed to care right now. He plods aimlessly, following Luz by a half-step. They pass sleepy houses and then a brightly lit store; the sign screams 7-Eleven in lights to the empty sky. Luz hesitates, darting a glance at his ears as they pass by. Right. That’s going to be a problem eventually.
They reach a field of mowed grass, clumps of trees and a distant statue dotting the area. Luz lies down in the middle of the field, staring upward. Hunter sits cross-legged beside her. “Why here?”
She shrugs. “When I was little I’d come here with my mom. And I always wanted to bring a friend here. I never really had them before and now–” she chokes.
“King is gonna be okay. Eda too. They’re strong.”
Taking a deep breath, she bites her lip. “He’s just a little kid. He shouldn’t have to be strong.”
Hunter tips his head back. He doesn’t remember being eight. He doesn’t remember much of anything before he was the Golden Guard, really. He doesn’t know how old he is, but he knows eight is far too young to face what they faced today. “I’m sorry,” he says.
“I’m sorry too,” says Luz, rolling her head around to peer up at him. He knows she means Belos.
“He was a bad person.”
“He was your uncle.”
“He didn’t love me.”
“But you loved him.”
“I shouldn’t. He hurt me. He hurt you.”
“But he’s gone now.”
“He’s dead.” The stars here are not as bright as the ones at home, he decides.
“You’re allowed to mourn, Hunter. You lost someone.”
He starts to fiddle with his gloves, picking at the fingertips. Luz is still looking at him. He wishes she weren’t. “Your mom is nice.”
It isn’t the right thing to say. Her face crumples briefly, and when she speaks her voice is thick. “Yeah. She’s great. Vee too.”
“Yeah,” he echoes, casting about for something to say. “I’m sorry about Eda.”
“I just– something went wrong. With the spell. She was supposed to stop the draining spell and now I’ll never know–”
“You’ll know. We’re going home. We’ll find a way.”
She heaves a deep breath and he flops down beside her. The grass is as wet as it looks. The moon is a few degrees further along when Luz pushes to her feet. “That’s enough moping. Come on, I’ll buy you a slushy.”
“What’s a slushy?”
“Like sweet flavoured ice but a million times better, you’ll love it.” He grasps her outstretched arm and pulls himself up.
“What about my ears?”
“You can wait outside. We’ll find you a hat or something in the morning.” They’re headed not the way they came but across the field, nearing a statue of two men.
Hunter stops. “Luz,” he calls.
She comes beside him, looking up. He knows these men. He is one of these men. “Oh,” she says. “I knew he was from here, but seeing it–”
“The other one. Who’s the other one?” His voice is coming from very far away. Luz checks the plaque. “That’s his brother. Caleb Wittebane. Guess you’re human, bud.” He squints at Caleb, at the familiar shape of the face. It’s dark and he wishes he could make out the details.
“Come on,” he says, grabbing the plinth just above his head and leveraging his body up and over, balancing on the ledge.
“What are you doing?”
“I need a closer look.”
Luz makes grabby hands at him until he hauls her up beside him. She holds onto him, unwilling to grab the statue of his uncle for balance. They peer at the faces. “Here.” Luz pulls out her human scroll and does something that makes it light up, handing it to him. Hunter shines it on the metal face and yeah. That’s him. The ears are round, and the eyes are smaller, but he’s looking at his own face. At the face of his originator. “I wonder what happened to him.”
“When I helped Philip, he was already… gone. Philip’s journal implied that it was an accident, but–” she trails off.
“Belos killed him. And replaced him. And killed all the replacements.” He hands back the light and jumps off the plinth. “You owe me a slushy still.”
She tumbles down after him and they start off again, circling the park. “They were witch hunters,” Luz says.
“Hunters?” says Hunter.
“Oh.” Well, he can’t say he’s much of a fan of that. Luz, by her face, is less than impressed as well. “Do you think maybe he was running low on names?” she supposes.
Hunter laughs like a punch to the stomach. He scuffs his feet as they come up on the 7-Eleven. He lurks in the shadows near the icebox when Luz vanishes inside. Through the window he watches her smile at the cashier, two brightly coloured drinks in hand.
She watches attentively while he takes his first careful sip, sucking hard to get it up the straw. It’s cold and sweet and refreshing, with the warning tingle of brain freeze. “It’s good,” Hunter says.
“That’s mountain dew flavour. I got blue raspberry.” She offers him a sip, and he takes it, handing over his own cup. Hers is good too, but he likes the mountain dew better.
Slurping, he walks in tandem step with Luz back up the boulevard. There’s a faint hint of grey on the horizon, and the stars are dimming. Luz checks her human scroll and groans. “We better hurry. My mom will be up soon.” She glances at him mischievously before breaking into a sprint. “Race you,” she calls over her shoulder.
Hunter wins, of course. They fall over each other, hushing and whispering and making quite the quiet clatter in the silent household. The clock ticks loudly from the kitchen. “Come to bed,” Luz whispers,“just lie down with your eyes closed. I promise it’ll help. Mythbusters did a whole episode on it”
“Mythbusters? What are those?”
“They’re like these guys who blow stuff up and it’s scientific and stuff. They proved resting even if you don’t sleep is better than nothing at all.” The logic is sound enough to him, so he tiptoes up the stairs. Luz beats him into the bathroom, so he carefully pushes open her bedroom door and climbs around the sleeping bodies to the window. He’s just in time to catch the first fiery ray of sun peeking over the horizon.