Faris gave me a knowing smile. “I can tell he is missed.”
“Open the rest!” Violet picked up one of the other gifts and shoved it into my hands.
Grinning, I tore off the wrapping paper to reveal a rolled-up pouch of soft leather. I opened it to find six sharp double-ended spikes made from a charcoal gray metal.
“Ummm. Thanks?”
Conlan laughed. “These are from Iian. They’re throwing spikes for when you progress to weapons training.”
“Oh.” I looked at them with new interest. “I figured you’d start me with something less…pointy.”
“Open Kerr’s gift,” Faris said.
I did and found a cylinder sheath about a foot long. Uncapping the sheath, I tipped it, and a polished wooden object slid out. It had metal tips and looked like a piece of a staff I’d seen in their training room.
Faris took it and pressed one of the metal parts, and the piece extended until it was a full-length staff. He handed it back, and I marveled over how light it was.
“This is a combat staff,” he said when I balanced the staff on one finger. “The wood is very strong, and it is a lethal weapon in the hands of a trained fighter.”
Dad came to stand beside me, and I passed the staff to him. He gripped it in both hands and stared at it appreciatively. “I always wanted to learn to fight with a staff.”
“Why didn’t you?” I asked.
“Never got around to it. I focused on other training that was more practical for the job.”
Leaving him to admire the weapon, I turned back to the table where a flat box lay. One of the last people I would expect to receive a birthday gift from was Faolin, and I was intensely curious about what was inside.
I removed the plain blue paper to see a dark wooden box with a hinged cover. Lifting the lid, I gasped at the pair of knives nestled on a bed of silky material. They were about ten inches long with wooden handles and wickedly sharp blades made of the same dark metal as Iian’s throwing spikes.
“Wow,” I breathed. I looked up at Faris and Conlan, who appeared as surprised as I was.
“Those are glaefere blades,” Faris said after a moment of silence.
“The finest weapons a warrior owns after their sword,” Conlan explained. “It is said that the first glaefere blades were crafted by the Asrai.”
I stared at him. “Are you sure Faolin meant to give these to me?”
Conlan’s eyes sparkled with laughter. “Anyone who can land a strike against the Unseelie prince and his head of security is deserving of such a gift.”
“You hit the Unseelie prince?” Mom asked sharply. “And one of the royal guards?”
I winced because it sounded bad when she said it. “It’s kind of a long story. I’ll explain it all later.”
She fixed me with her no-nonsense look. “I see we have a lot of catching up to do.”
“You still have to open the big gift from Lukas,” Violet blurted.
I eyed the box with a mix of curiosity and resentment. For weeks, Lukas had acted like I didn’t exist, yet he’d taken the time to get me a birthday gift. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
I snagged the wrapping paper on the top end and tore it down the length of the gift that was over three feet long. Underneath was a plain cardboard box, and I lifted a flap to see the outline of a black guitar case inside.
Violet peered over my shoulder. “He got you a new guitar. I bet it’s a nice one.”
“Are you going to open it?” Dad asked, and I realized I’d been staring at the case a little too long.
I took the guitar case from the box and set it down on the table. Unhooking the latches, I lifted the cover and stared at the instrument inside. It took me a long moment to realize what I was looking at.
Tears blurred my vision as I reached out to touch the guitar my grandfather had taught me to play on, the guitar that had been one of my prized possessions until two men had broken in here and destroyed it. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to throw it out, so I’d shoved it under my bed where I didn’t have to see it.
“How?” I whispered.
“Lukas asked me for it, and I gave it to him,” Dad said. “I wasn’t sure it could be repaired, but he said he could do it.”
“Try it out,” Violet said, and Finch whistled in agreement.
I took the guitar from the case and sat. After a minute of tuning the strings, I played a few lines of Finch’s favorite song. It played and sounded exactly like it had before it was broken.
I pretended to adjust the strings some more so I didn’t have to look up at everyone watching me. I didn’t understand how Lukas cared enough to give me something that meant so much to me, when at the same time he didn’t want to see me or even pick up a phone to call me. It made no sense, and I was more confused than ever.
“Do you like it?” Conlan asked.
“It’s perfect,” I said honestly, and I played until the ache in my chest went away.
* * *
I shivered and pulled my cap down to shield my ears from the icy wind that sliced through the cemetery. This winter felt like it had been going on forever, and it wasn’t ready to release its grip on us yet.
Beside me, Mom seemed impervious to the cold as she crouched to replace the old flowers at the base of the white marble headstone with fresh ones. She arranged the flowers as she spoke softly to the son she still believed was buried here.
I met Dad’s eyes over her head and saw how hard this was for him. He and Mom had spent the last twenty years grieving for their lost son, and now he had to watch her continued suffering. He had asked their doctors how much to reveal to her about the things she didn’t remember, and the doctors said small things were okay. To avoid a relapse, we needed to let her regain her memories at her own pace.
Dad and I had decided that one of us would be with Mom at all times because we couldn’t risk her remembering something traumatic when she was alone. So far, it had been relatively easy to do because this was the first time she’d left the apartment since coming home three days ago.
My mother was not stupid. She knew we were keeping something from her, but Dad had asked her to trust him, and she did so without question. I think, for her, having us all together was enough for now.
I dropped my gaze to the name engraved into the small headstone. My whole life, this had been the only place I’d felt somewhat connected to my brother. Being here now, knowing it wasn’t Caleb’s body in the grave, I didn’t know what to feel other than a simmering anger at the person who had torn my family apart.
Mom stood and ran a gloved hand lovingly over the little angel atop the headstone. She straightened her shoulders and smiled at me, but I caught the sadness in her eyes before she could hide it like she always did.
“Your nose is so red it’s almost glowing,” she teased.
“Just the look I was going for.”
Laughing, she looped an arm through mine. “Let’s stop for Thai on the way home. I’ve been dying for something spicy, and that will heat us up.”
I forgot all about the cold. She had been eating like a bird since she’d come home, and this was the first time she’d shown interest in food. Thai was her favorite, not mine, but I’d have it seven days a week if that was what it took to get her to eat.