This is Emmorta

9 Way Down We Go

Orion

"Where are you going?"

Evander spares no glance in my direction as he struts for the exit. As per my father's "orders," we've cleaned the place up. I mean, we were going to do it, anyway. We just needed time.

My brother hated the white and gold appearance I was going for in the temple, so now everything is black and white.

I don't hate it. I just didn't think it would look like enough, but it works.

He didn't bat an eye at the silver accents. Though he got a little twitchy.

"Picking up Iris," he says while he slips on his shoes. "There's nothing going on today, so I'm going to show her how to stab things without feeling bad about it."

"Are we going to talk about the other night?" I wonder. "Dad called." Multiple times, in fact. "He wants to know what happened."

Evander stiffens, his back to me still while he stands at the door. "Nothing happened. That's the point. There's nothing to say."

I wouldn't say that, but he doesn't see it the same way. "She's not Amara, Evander. And you're not..." The words don't die, though they never leave my mouth. If anything, they breathe more life than either of us.

The temple remains a silent marble entity, with nothing more than his breathing. His lungs wheeze louder with each passing second. His hands are in front of him, but the old familiar sound of that ribbon between his fingers is something I've grown used to over the years. Even more so these past several months.

"You're not going to see Iris," I guess. By his lack of a reaction, I'm right.

"Are you going to tell me they all deserve to know?" he asks. "That I need to tell them? That I owe somebody something? That's hypocritical, Orion."

Never. I wish I could tell Rune, but I have to give him the same respect he's always given me. Even when it tore him apart.

"No."

Evander's head drops, along with his shoulders, and his breaths transition from labored to shuddered. He might not make it tonight without taking a good beating.

"Don't bring her up in here anymore, Orion. Either of them. Amara is dead, and this is the one place I can be without the reminders of either of them or that false sense of whatever we all shared for the briefest of time."

He disappears, and I can guess I'll have at least a few hours.

So I do the one thing I've avoided for months.

***

I don't see my parents moving again unless they have to. They're settled here, and they enjoy the layout of the property.

My dad has all his birds, a damn garden, and a workshop. My mom has an ass. She named him Pegasus.

He's smaller than the family dog.

The sharpness of heavy paws and claws digging into the ground, racing toward me, brings back memories of better times. Not great, but better than now.

That's probably not the case for most people. Most people would run if a hellhound sprinted in their direction. Those eyes, the promise of a most painful death.

But this is Phoenix.

He barrels into me, head ramming into my middle. When I was a kid, he could take me down with little effort. Now, I stumble for his benefit or he won't stop.

"Hey boy, where's everyone?" His skin is hot to the touch under his fur. "What's wrong?"

He growls, turns, and sprints for the house.