Part 4.21

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It feels great to be free of guilt. I don't know what Onyx was so worried about. Who needs guilt anyway? I was wracked with headaches when it was a part of me. It was too strong and too ugly. Now my head is clear. I read Ivy's essay, and I even put in my own two silvers. I want to help her. Not because Bronna's death haunts me, but because she's alone and going through a hard time.

There's nothing I'm pushing down now.

There's nothing I'm running away from.

Onyx still looks at me with worry, but that's just him overreacting. I'm not going to turn into the Dark Witch just because I'm missing some small inconsequential piece of my heart.

Amanda's back to normal now. The curse is gone. The witch doctors monitoring her put it down to one of the many curse antidotes they've tried actually working, and that's for the best. Amanda doesn't need to go through the whole the-Dark-Witch-is-real ordeal.

Sometimes, I tell her, it's just too hard to track down the origin of a curse. Isn't it enough that it's gone?

I'm on my way to pick up Ara from Queen Irine's apartment. Addy's mother has been having a bit of trouble with her. If Ara has a sandwich, Tommy needs a sandwich too. If Ara gets a bedtime story, Tommy needs to be told one too. Queen Irine is at the end of her wits when I arrive. "The child is in the bedroom," she says tiredly, without even raising her head from the table.

Ara sits cross-legged on the bed. One of her dolls lies next to her. "You've had your turn, Tommy," she scolds the air next to her. "You've got to learn to share toys." She notices me in the doorway. "The lady's angry at me, isn't she? She's sending me away." The girl hangs her head.

I feel a pang of pity for her, so I take a seat next to her. "She's not angry with you," I assure her. "Your mother's all better now, so she's taking you home."

Ara sighs. "She is mad at me," she says sadly. "About Tommy."

I don't say anything for awhile. Ara swings her legs back and forth over the edge of the bed. "Ara," I say, as gently as I can, "because not everyone can...see...Tommy, they don't always know how to act around him."

Ara looks at me with those deep vermilion eyes of hers. "It's okay," she says. "I know Tommy's not real."

"You do?" I regard her with astonishment.

"It's just that I miss him so much, so I pretend he's still here. It's lonely without him."

"Ara..." I frown. "Are you saying Tommy was real?"

She nods. "Tommy was my twin brother. He died."

Ice grips my heart. "Ara," I begin, dreading the answer, "what did Tommy look like? What colour was his hair?"

"It was greeny-bluey. And it was curly, like this." She twirls her finger around to imitate ringlets.

"Ara, how did Tommy die?" The ice sits in my stomach now, churning its contents with cold fingers.

"He fell in the water. We both fell, but Mummy saved me. She couldn't save Tommy."

"Tommy couldn't swim."

"Tommy couldn't even walk! He had to be pushed around in a chair with wheels. Mummy always cried about him. She said there wasn't enough money for him."

Frogs. Frogs, frogs, frogs. That's why the curse skipped Ara and went straight for Amanda. It recognised a similar crime.

The hands in my vision were reaching, but not for me. Amanda saved Ara, but she let Tommy, with his broken legs, drown. Maybe she convinced herself that he was beyond saving. Maybe she told herself it was better that way. Tommy drowned in Wyvern's Lake, and I saw it because the Dark Witch's curse saw it.

Amanda is scooping a handful of jade hair into a ponytail when I find her. I don't mince my words. "Amanda, Tommy was real. He drowned at Wyvern's Lake."

Shock and sorrow chase each other across Amanda's face. "How did you...oh. Ara must've told you. Yes, Tommy, my boy, he drowned. We took a little rowboat across Wyvern's Lake and the kids fell in the water. I pulled Ara out, but Tommy couldn't move his legs, and he drowned quickly. Ara found it hard to move on without him. She was only four years old, and they were twins."

I search her face for any signs of guilt. I know what I saw. I saw through Tommy's eyes, and she hadn't reached for him. She'd reached for Ara.

Two little boys, centuries apart, connected by an evil being's curse. Was it justice? Was that what the Dark Witch wanted? Or was it simply the satisfaction of wreaking havoc on humanity?

There is genuine grief in Amanda's eyes. She loved Tommy. And unlike me, she had her whole heart with her. I might not be able to feel guilt anymore, but Amanda doesn't have that luxury. The guilt will remain with her, ugly and unable to be fully pushed down. And that is worse than any curse.

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