Chapter Twenty-Six: Wait for Me (Reprise)

I'll tell you where the real road lies—between your ears, behind your eyes.

When I emerged into the central tunnel, everyone was waiting for me. Sirius and Remus—their faces pale and hands clutched tight together. Ylva—angry, fuming, trying to cover her brittle, broken heart with fire. The pack—breathless. Their fate hung in such a fine balance.

They all stood in silence—as though praying, as though mourning—and watched me glide in.

Finally, Sirius asked, "What did he decide?"

I looked at my brother and felt my heart breaking for the trial that lay ahead of him. For the doubts and fears—and the sharp, stabbing hope. How could I break him the news? How could I look at that face I loved so much and tell him what was ahead? "It's complicated," I said.

Sirius went pale.

It was Remus who spoke, his voice shaking. "What is it?"

"You can go," I began, and before I could finish my sentence, I was cut off by an eruption of cheers from the pack. The wolves would finally, finally get their chance at freedom. Remus grabbed Sirius—pulled him into a hug, laughing—but it was Sirius who knew there was more to the story. He looked at me and said, "What is the complicated part?"

I smiled grimly. "You can walk out of here—but you cannot have my help. The moment you pass through those gates, you will be on your own."

"That's okay," Remus said bracingly. "Sirius knows the way. We'll have each other."

"But that's exactly it…" I said, wishing I didn't have to. "You won't."

A long pause filled the tunnel. The pack seemed to deflate, their joy darkening, their hope dimming.

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked.

"It's a charm. The only condition Greyback has for you leaving. You can go, but must walk in single file," I explained. "Sirius, you in front—and Remus, you behind—"

"Why?"

"And if you turn around, Sirius—listen to me." I needed him to understand this, to see that his future hung in a fine balance, that he had the power to create the life he wanted.

Or destroy it.

"You have to walk all the way back home and you cannot look back. Not once. Not for a second. If you turn around to double check that Remus is there, the charm will break. Greyback will know—and Remus will get pulled back. All the way back to the Underworld. If you turn around, you'll never be able to see him again."

Sirius didn't not seem to be processing this. His eyes flickered with confusion—with grief—with seedlings of doubt. Where was that confident boy I'd known? Where was that reckless man?

It was Remus who spoke, Remus whose anger burned white hot. "But why?"

How could I explain? How could they understand what it was like in Greyback's heart? The decades of isolation—the fear and desperate longing. He was not a simple man. For him, everything had a price. And as his heart cracked open, as his grief and fear and pain came rushing to the surface, he wanted to give Sirius and Remus their life together. He really did.

They just had to earn it.

"He's a complicated man," I said. "He can't let this be easy. You can't just walk out. He can't just give it do you."

Sirius—dark and suspicious—said, "He's tricking us. He is going to keep Remus here. He wants me to leave alone."

"He's not," I said heavily.

"What if it's a trap?"

"It's not a trap," I said and as I spoke, a bone deep weariness fell over me—like I'd seen this all before—like I'd explained this more times than I could count. The world felt small and endless then. Like a marble in the great, ambivalent hand of the universe. Like a child's toy that got wound and unspooled, forcing us to play the same stories over and over again. Would anything I say make Sirius believe me? "It's a trial."

"But—"

"You need trust to get through this," I said. "You can get through it. I know you can. But you need to have faith. You cannot doubt, even for a glimmer of a second."

"But Greyback—"

"This isn't about Greyback," I said, impatient. "It's about you." I jabbed my finger at Sirius's chest. How could I make him understand? He had the power to get them home. He had the power to give them the life they both deserved.

"Sirius," Remus said, his voice low. He twined their fingers together, brushed a stray hair off his cheek. "We can do this."

"But what if—"

"There are no ifs," Remus said softly. He held Sirius's gaze, his eyes endless. "We have to try. I believe in you. And I know you believe in me. It's just a walk. A long road, one last battle to fight. I know we can do this."

Sirius's eyes flickered. He searched for strength in Remus's gaze and found it, found the steady source of love and faith. "Okay," he said, then turned to me. "Okay."

"You have to trust each other," I said. "You have to trust yourselves. Can you do that?"

"Yes." They spoke as one—their hearts in rhythm—their faith entwining.

"You're going to have to prove your way," I said. "Prove yourself before wolves and men."

"We can do it," they said, their hands squeezed together, their eyes clear.

I looked at these two boys, their love a shining beacon between them, their faith heavy and solid as warm earth, as cool metal.

"Then that's all there is to it," I said, even though it wasn't true. A long road lay ahead of them—a dangerous road—one full of monsters and traps. "It's time to go."

Ylva ran up to them first, pulling them into a ferociously tight hug. "I"ll see you again," she said, and when she pulled away, they saw her eyes shone with tears. "Thank you."

And she stepped aside to give the pack time to say goodbye.

Ylva didn't turn around as she left the central tunnels, following the meandering path back to her father's apartment. Her apartment. The home they'd built together. Her face was wet with tears, but for once she didn't wipe them away—for once, she didn't have to hide them.

"Dad." She pushed the door open to their flat to find him, crouched against the kitchen counter, the tang of alcohol burning in the air. Had he gotten drunk? But when she looked at him, she saw nothing but bright determination. His eyes and his heart were clear.

Ylva glanced the liquor cabinet. It was empty—at once she realized what he had done.

Greyback looked at her—and he was crying too—free for the first time in decades—free from the strain of the Fated Ones, free from shame. "Come here," he said.

She rushed to him and let him pull her into a hug. And for a moment, she felt like the little girl she'd been, afraid, alone, wishing for her father's comfort.

A sob wrenched through her.

"It's okay," Greyback said, holding her tighter—and it was okay. She was safe. She had her father and her home. She had people who loved her and a safe place to feel twenty years of grief. Ylva cried in his arms for a long time—and though he made no noise, by the slow drip of tears on her forehead, Ylva knew that her father was crying too.

Finally, after a long while, Ylva said, "You let them go." And her voice was so brimming with love, it almost hurt to hear.

"I gave them a chance," Greyback said. "They have to earn it. They have to prove that they're willing to fight for each other."

"And us?" Ylva asked. "Do we have to prove it?"

Greyback gave her a sad smile. "You already have. I'm the one who has to make amends." He took a breath, his eyes flickering. "That starts today. You can go up to meet them up top if you want. Once they complete the trial."

"I will… eventually," Ylva said. "For now, I want to stay here. With you."

Sirius and Remus stood at the edge of the tunnels. The path stretched long ahead of them. The pack stood behind them, quiet, supportive—praying these boys made it. Praying that they could lead the way to everyone's freedom.

"It's a long road ahead of you," I told them—but I was talking to Sirius alone. Remus I did not doubt. Remus I knew would not fail. He'd already lost everything—he was not going to lose it again.

"I know the way," Sirius said, but I cut him off.

"Not that road," I said. "Darkness and monsters—that's nothing compared to what's ahead of you. I'm talking about the real trial. The real wolves. Werewolves and kings are one thing—but the real monsters are the ones in your head. The real journey is in your own heart. Sirius."

He looked at me and for the briefest flash, I saw his fear. It flickered like a shadow behind his eyes, before disappearing, before his strength and hope swallowed it up.

But it troubled me. I must admit, I was afraid for them. Where had his doubt come from? He'd always been so brave—so reckless. Why—now—was he suddenly afraid?

"Doubt is deadly," I warned him. "Don't let it in. Keep going forward. And never look back."

Sirius nodded. Then turned to Remus one last time—before they'd have to leave, before they would have nothing to hold onto but their trust.

Tenderly, Remus ran a hand through Sirius's hair. He squeezed his callused hand. "We can do this," he said, then he kissed him. A lifetime's worth of love went into that kiss—every hope and fantasy for their future together. When Remus finally pulled away, he gave Sirius a steady smile. "I love you."

"I love you," Sirius said.

"I trust you."

"I trust you."

Remus kissed him again. "Then lead the way," he whispered. "I'll be behind you—I promise. I'll be there the whole time."

And Sirius took one long last look at his beloved—drinking in his features, to hold like a torch in the long night ahead of them.

Then—he turned away—and led the way into the darkness.