The White Sheep's Disguise ✓

Chapter 38

Castiel is fast asleep on the sofa, Theoden is nodding off at the kitchen table. I stride past them both with Chaska in tow, pulling her towards the thick door protecting the basement from the outside world. Neither of them wakes, they're too exhausted after long nights of filling orders around the village. Before long, they'll both require shops to work out of. Piles of old boots and clumps of string have taken over the cottage.

I lead Chaska down the basement stairs, shutting the door behind us. This won't be a test of our magic or a training session to release what builds up underneath our skin. Chaska needs to get to the bottom of her rage, and if the Luminary within is what pushes her towards such angst, that needs to release itself from such a tight knot and return to spools of silk thread.

Uncut and perfectly soft.

She whirls to me, tears in her eyes and staining her cheeks. "I hate that you're not here anymore," she blurts—to me, to the stacked crates of supplies, to the dusty dirt floor underneath our boots. "I hate that the royal family gets to have you for two weeks out of the month. That's too long, Marie. I can't...you're too important to me."

"I know," I say quietly.

A salted droplet of water breaks loose from the inner corner of her eyes, protruding near the middle and dissolving into her funnel nose. "No, you don't know." Chaska shakes her head wildly. "I can't stand going to work when you're not there or being here—surrounded by your family when you're days away in a strange, unkind place. And to hear about your journey from Eligius?" She jabs her hand towards the stairs as if he's standing right there, directly on the other side of the heavily bolted door.

I keep my eyes down to force myself from looking at something I know won't be there to get me out of this...whatever it is. A scolding for my wrongdoings, or merely Chaska spilling her heart to me. I haven't been the best friend these past few weeks. Any time I do have at home, I spend with Castiel or at work. When I'm not doing either of those things, it's because I'm too exhausted to do anything else and I fall into bed before telling Chaska about what I've experienced while I'm away. Away from my family—and her.

She makes careful steps towards me, closing the increasing distance I'm putting between us. I can't keep hurting her—my first instinct has always been to push others away instead of offering a solution; it's easier than pressuring myself to make changes I have no control over.

"I've missed you, Marie," she says, voice barely above a whisper. "I want you home, and I know that makes me selfish because you have no choice, but I'm not perfect. I want you here; I don't know what to do when you're not here. I feel like my arm has fallen off or my leg is suddenly rendered useless." She drags the back of her sleeve across her nose. "I'm lost without you, and you're all I have left."

A sob cracks loose from her throat. I take my best friend in my arms, cradling her close for it's the only thing I can do. Her body shakes against mine. Biting down on my tongue, the tears remain where they are—lodged into my throat to save for when I have a moment alone. The world continues to press harder on my shoulders and I currently don't have a way of stopping it. Perhaps I should stop looking for a solution to help myself and focus more on helping others like Chaska.

"I'm sorry," I mutter against her coat sleeve. "I promise it'll be over soon and when I get back, I'll tell you everything I experienced while at the palace." Holding her at arm's length, I memorize her blotched eyes and pouted lips. The tears breaking through the clear, sparkling brown skin of her face. Rolling over the valley of a cheekbone too sharp for her own good. "I'll write more letters. Not just to Castiel, but to you too."

She nods, but from the glint of loss in her eyes, I know it's not enough.

"What if she kills you?" Chaska croaks.

I can't lie. Not anymore. "Then I'll haunt you from the afterlife until your time comes. Then, we can haunt Eligius and Rylan until they go mad with rage and turn on each other. We'll laugh as they fight."

A croaked laugh, swallowed by tears, escapes through her lips. Past tears and a similar weight as my own, Chaska smiles. Her white teeth brighten a dark face that has witnessed too many terrors for the number of years she has endured. Chaska is young, though her face holds the years of a woman far, far older.

She pulls me in for another bone-crushing embrace and rests her chin on my shoulder. "Promise me you'll heal him," she whispers to the cold stone wall closing in on me.

I stare towards the ceiling, the cobwebs and endless layers of dust. "I promise."