LONGING
In the moments immediately following Philip's transformation into the Book of Life, Jack, Rebecca, and Matthew swarmed him, bombarding him with frantic assurances that he would be fine and there was no need to worry. Philip, meanwhile, was standing between worlds, the cacophony of his family just a pedal point to the words and images, the knowledge and the newness, that exploded like a firework inside him.
Ysabeau, Marthe, and Violet had been waiting downstairs, but they heard the commotion and burst through the door. Philip's bloodsong was deafening and he smelled like a powder keg about to detonate. Ysabeau, Marthe, and Jack had been present during the early days of Diana's transformation and recognized what was taking place, not that that did much to alleviate their alarm. Violet was accustomed to words floating on Diana's body from time to time, but this was a different matter entirely. She rushed to her husband and placed her hands on either side of his face, urgently shouting, "Philip! Can you hear me? Philip!"
Ysabeau put a calming hand on Violet's shoulder and eased her away from Philip. "Come, let us get him to Sept-Tours," she said, and cast a lingering gaze upon Diana's body, then gave Matthew a meaningful glance before returning to the situation at hand. "Allez, mon cher," she urged softly as she steered Philip to the door, followed by the coterie of family members who were eager to get him some care.
"Ça ira, mon fils," Matthew called after him. He was comforted knowing that his son would be with Gallowglass and Fernando, both of whom had been there when Diana became the Book of Life. Ysabeau would also share the news that Diana was gone with those assembled at the family home.
Once they left, the emptiness of Les Revenants resounded all around Matthew. He knelt at the side of the bed, held Diana's hand, waiting in vain for some final glimpse of his wife—a note of her bloodsong, a hint of chatoiement, a trace of letters under her skin. But she was gone, and he sat by her side, drinking in the last vestige of her scent as it faded away. He realized that her palm was empty, and searched for Philippe's coin that she'd held in her last moments, but it was nowhere to be found. His heart swelled in the realization that it had accompanied her to the afterlife. She had her fare for Charon's ferry, and was on her way to reunite with his father. A pang of jealousy struck, and he couldn't ignore the desire rising in him to follow her into death. He and Diana had had endless conversations over the years to prepare him for this moment, and he'd solemnly vowed that under no circumstances would he do anything to put himself in harm's way in the event of her death. He had children to comfort him, responsibilities as the head of his family, and he was strong enough to persevere without her. Or so she'd said. In this moment, it felt far from true. He interlocked his fingers tightly with hers. They were the same temperature now. "Diana, mon coeur! Come back," he pleaded. "I need you." Nothing. "Diana!" he demanded, growing agitated. His face twitched and a feral snarl rumbled in his throat, and grew louder and louder until it became a roar. "Take me with you!" he thundered, inches from her face. "Take me with you! Diana! Diana! Don't leave me! You can't leave me!" He shook her as though he could wake her up. "Diana! Diana! Come back! Come back and take me with you!" He shook her another time, but it was no use. He stared at her in defeat, his breath heaving with exertion. Once he calmed himself, he was flooded with shame in his behavior. He gripped her hand. "Mon coeur, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, please forgive me." Once again, he was enveloped in silence. He held her hand to his lips and then nuzzled his cheek into it. "I'm sorry," he breathed again and again, and kissed her hand once more.
Diana's wedding ring gleamed in a shaft of sunlight coming through the casement. He turned her hand this way and that to watch the light play off the diamond. It reminded him of the light that used to radiate from her. Gently, he worked the ring off of her finger and studied it. He looked closely at the diamond and the tiny golden hands that held it. The hands emerged from exquisite cuffs that were accented with enamel and diamonds. Until this moment, he'd forgotten that the ring was actually comprised of three bands, two outer bands that made up the hands, and a center band that held the diamond. A twist of his fingers disassembled the interlocked rings and they tumbled into his palm. He examined the engraving that was hidden on the bands. The left hand read, "a ma vie de coer entire". My whole heart for my whole life. The right hand read, "Α mon debut et ma fin Ω". My beginning and my end. The center band was engraved on either side. "Se souvenir du passe", "et qu'il ya un avenir".
Remember the past, and that there is a future.
He wept.
