Bedtime

“Briscoe barked happily, knowing he had just reunited the boy with his mother. Ross and his mother hugged and kissed, making up for all the time they missed while he was lost in the woods. Seeing that Ross would be taken care of, Briscoe turned away and walked off into the distance, to find the next person in need of his help.”

At the conclusion of the story, I closed the book.

I sat on a chair next to my son’s bed. Zac sat up under the covers, his pillow propped against the wall behind his head. By the grunting sounds he made, I could tell he wasn’t satisfied with the story’s ending.

“Briscoe left him?” Zac looked up at me with confused eyes. “Why?”

“Well, it’s like the book said.” I gestured to the cover, as if trying to shift the blame for the ending he didn’t like from myself to the story. “Briscoe goes to any child who needs his help. Once they no longer need him, he moves on.”

“But Ross loved Briscoe!” Zac protested.

The book never once said those words. I couldn’t tell if Zac had picked up on the clues in the story, or if he was projecting himself into the main character.

I scratched the back of my head, pondering this difficult question. “Well… sometimes the ones we love have to leave us...”

“Oh…” Though his voice told me he understood, the look on his face told me there was another question on his mind, one he was afraid to ask.

After a few moments of watching his expression and thinking about the conversation, I deduced what was bothering him. “I won’t leave you.”

“Never?” he asked.

It was a complicated question, really. I knew that if I simply answered as he wanted, that I would never leave him, that it would be a lie. Even with the medicine of the Ancients, which was hard to come by in Oakbridge, I knew I wasn’t going to live forever.

But I recalled Reverend Constance’s most recent sermon about what happens to us after we die. She told us that when someone dies their soul is set free, and a piece of it exists inside every person who loved them while they were alive. Truth be told, I wasn’t sure what to make of most of the things Reverend Constance taught, but when I heard her deliver that sermon I felt that I knew it was true. I only knew my real parents for the first four years of my life, but ever since they passed on I always felt like they were there with me.

So, having thought through the answer, I responded in full honesty, “I will never ever leave you, Zac. Remember? We moved to this town and I started working for Mr. Benji so I’d never have to leave you again.”

The answer brought a smile to his lips, but only for a moment. “Briscoe reunited Ross with his mom. Where’s Ross’ dad?”

I looked at the book and shrugged. “I don’t know. The book doesn’t say. Maybe he’s off having adventures or something.”

“Or maybe he’s dead,” Zac said, staring off at the far wall.

“Maybe,” I said with a shrug.

“Is that what happened to my mother?” Zac asked. “Is she dead?”

“Well…” I considered my words carefully. The last thing I wanted to do was lie to the boy. If he found out later on that I’d been untruthful he’d feel so betrayed. I thought back to the legends about Zahac and who and what his mother was. Using the tales as a guide, I told him the parts I felt comfortable sharing. “I’ve never met your mother,” I said with a shake of my head, “So, I don’t know where she is, but here’s what I do know. A long time ago, she lived in a palace on top of a waterfall, one built in a time even before the Ancients. She was the most beautiful woman in all the world, and suitors came from far and wide to ask for her hand in marriage.”

“What’s ‘suitors’?” he asked.

“Men who wanted to marry her,” I clarified. “One of those suitors was a handsome prince.” I took special care to avoid telling him character names, a decision I hoped would at least delay his finding out the whole truth.

“Were you the handsome prince?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his smile.

“I wish!” Both of us chuckled. “No, this was a long time ago. Anyway, the handsome prince wrote poems for her, and played her music on his lyre. He gave her flowers, and only ever spoke kindly to her, never harshly. They got married, and she became pregnant with you.” I waved my hand over my own protruding gut, making a gesture as if it were far bigger.

“Then what happened?” he asked, an excited smile on his lips.

My heart sank. I should have seen that question coming. How could I tell any child, especially my own, the rest of that story? There was a reason the fair Lady Mitra charged Zahac with the judgment and destruction of the world, and it was a tale which was sure to crush his spirits.

Then again, it was also an outlandish tale, one I could never be certain was real. So, with a clear conscience, I told him, “I don’t know.”

He gave a disappointed huff and slumped down a little further into his bed.

“But I’m here,” I said, kissing his forehead. “And, like I said, I’m never going to leave you. I love you, little man.”

His eyes remained downcast, away from me, but he muttered, “I love you too, big man.” He slid further down under the covers and pulled them up to his neck, then turned over onto his side and closed his eyes. When I rose from the chair and blew out the candle on his bedside table, he said, “Can we use the glow-rock tonight?”

Still afraid the darklings will come in his room…

I’d long since lost the battle of trying to convince him that because of the town’s Everburn, no darklings could even come close enough to enter the inn, let alone hide in his closet or under his bed. Fulfilling his wish, I opened his dresser, took the glowing stone out from within, and placed it on his bedside table. The glow made it harder for me to sleep at night, but it helped him.

Just as I arrived at my bed, I recalled Piers’ warning that Clive, Avery’s brother, was coming to Oakbridge along with the rest of the Masked Legion tomorrow. With this imminent threat in mind, I inched my way over to the closet, where I kept the silver-edge. I propped the sheathed weapon up against the window sill, making sure the lac stone on the cross-guard would remain exposed to moonlight.

Satisfied that at least my sword would be ready for a confrontation with Clive, even if I wasn’t, I climbed into bed and lay on my back. Thinking over Piers’ warning, I considered taking Zac and running away. But, as I weighed my options, I realized that there was no guarantee we’d be any safer in the wilderness than we were in town. At least in town Clive would have witnesses to worry about, and Consul Maganti had forbidden initiating hostilities with the people of Oakbridge.

More importantly, there were no Everburns in the wilderness, making the nights especially dangerous.

Besides, if something did happen to me, it seemed a much better plan to leave Zac in the care of Benji, Jeseka, and whoever else in town was willing to take him in rather than in the wilderness on his own.

Just as I was about to drift off to sleep, I heard Zac whisper, “Good night, Mr. Muk.”