Chapter 438 Avery
Chapter 438 Avery
Avery - Little Nyx
Nyx is the quiet one.
Which, in this family, is probably an act of divine intervention.
Lilian wakes up every morning prepared to wage war against something.
Markus wakes up prepared to assist her.
Nyx wakes up, blinks those enormous sleepy eyes at the world, finds whichever one of us is closest, and quietly holds her arms up until she's picked up.
That's it.
No violence.
No theft.
No attempts to scale furniture that should be physically impossible for a two-year-old to scale.
Usually.
I learned very quickly that quiet does not mean innocent.
It simply means Nyx considers her crimes more carefully before committing them.
Today, though, she's being an angel.
She's sitting on Kuro's back while we walk through the forest.
Or, more accurately, she's lying on him.
“Kuro,” she whispers.
His enormous silver ear turns backward.
Nyx giggles.
“Kuro.”
The other ear turns.
She gasps as though this is the greatest magic she's ever witnessed.
“Both!”
I laugh.
“Yes, baby. He has two ears.”
She pushes herself upright, little hands sinking into the thick silver fur around his shoulders.
Kuro huffs.
Nyx leans down until her little face is buried in his fur.
“Kuro two ears.”
“I'm sure he's very relieved you confirmed that.”
Kuro gives me a look.
I grin.
We don't go very far into the forest anymore.
Not with the children.
Not without guards somewhere nearby, either, although I've become quite skilled at pretending I can't hear Luke and another warrior keeping their distance behind us.
Damien would probably put an entire military unit around the children if Ezra allowed him.
Actually, Damien would probably prefer walls.
Large ones.
No doors.
Possibly a moat.
Rowan is surprisingly more reasonable.
Probably because Nyx takes after him.
Not only in temperament.
In magic too.
That discovery scared the absolute hell out of all of us.
Fire isn't exactly the power you hope manifests in a toddler.
For now, though, it isn't really fire.
It's warmth.
Nyx runs warm all the time.
Not feverish.
Just warm.
Her little hands are always slightly warmer than mine, and when she's upset, it intensifies. When she's really upset, whatever she's touching starts warming too.
We've lost three crayons.
One wooden toy.
And the corner of a blanket.
The healers say the actual fire may not come for years.
Rowan says that's what happened to him. Heat first. Flames later.
Damien immediately ordered every room in the Verrath wing fireproofed.
Ezra pointed out that most of the Institute is made of stone.
Nyx stretches forward and rests her cheek between Kuro's ears.
Her dark hair is tied into two little braids today, although one is already half undone. Unlike Lilian's pale hair, Nyx's is darker, closer to Rowan's, and she has the same strange stillness about her that he does.
She watches.
Constantly.
People assume she's shy because she doesn't immediately speak to them.
She's not.
She's studying them.
Rowan does the exact same thing.
Sometimes I'll walk into the common room and find the two of them sitting together in complete silence, Rowan reading while Nyx plays beside him, perfectly content to exist in the same space without either of them making a sound.
Then I'll walk into another room and Damien and Lilian are arguing because she wants his sword, while Ezra is trying to stop Markus from climbing Kuro's tail.
Balance.
I suppose.
Nyx suddenly sits upright.
“Mama.”
“Yes?”
“Bird.”
I follow her little finger.
There's a bird perched high on one of the branches.
“You found one.”
“Blue.”
“It is blue.”
She looks back at me proudly.
I smile.
“Good job.”
“Papa bird?”
I hesitate.
“What?”
“Papa bird.”
She points again.
Oh.
There's another one.
“Maybe.”
Nyx thinks about that.
“Baby?”
“Maybe they have babies somewhere.”
Her entire face lights up.
“Baby birds!”
“Shh. We don't want to scare them.”
Immediately, she puts one finger against her lips.
“Shh.”
I smile.
Kuro keeps walking.
It's peaceful out here.
I used to be afraid of this forest.
Sometimes I still am.
There are places I don't go.
One place in particular.
I've never consciously decided not to visit it. I simply know when we're approaching that part of the woods, and somehow my feet always choose another path.
Maybe someday.
Not today.
Today the forest belongs to my daughter.
To sunlight slipping through leaves.
To the smell of damp earth.
To Kuro's massive paws crunching softly over the path.
To Nyx whispering commentary about every animal she sees from her throne of silver fur.
“Bug.”
“Mhm.”
“Another bug.”
“Very exciting.”
“Rock.”
“Beautiful.”
“Stick.”
“Incredible.”
She looks at me.
I keep my face completely serious.
“The finest stick I've ever seen.”
She giggles.
Then she wiggles sideways.
“Careful.”
Kuro stops immediately.
Nyx stretches toward a little branch on the ground.
She can't reach.
“Mama.”
“You already have sticks at home.”
“Want this.”
“Why?”
She gives me a look that suggests the question itself is idiotic.
“Stick.”
Right.
Obviously.
I pick it up and hand it to her.
“Thank you.”
“You're welcome.”
Kuro starts moving again.
Nyx holds her stick like a sword.
Oh, wonderful.
Apparently Lilian is influencing her.
She swings it once.
“Like Papa.”
“Which Papa?”
She thinks.
“Papa Ro.”
My heart melts a little.
“Rowan?”
She nods.
“Papa Ro fire.”
“Yes, Papa Ro has fire.”
Nyx looks down at her hand.
Then at me.
“Nyx fire.”
There is so much certainty in those two words that I slow down.
“You think so?”
“Warm.”
She holds out her little palm.
I put my hand beneath hers.
Warm.
She's always warm, but—
Her skin heats another degree beneath my fingers.
I blink.
Nyx watches my face intently.
“Warm,” she repeats.
“Yes.”
The heat increases.
It's like putting my hand beneath sunlight.
I smile.
“You are warm.”
Her little mouth curves.
“Like Papa.”
My chest aches.
“Just like Papa.”