My father’s weak fingers folded over my hand. “Sweetheart, look into my eyes.” His grip was surprisingly strong. Fearing this was a trap, I was tempted to jerk my hand away.
I did as he asked, gazing upon his sickly grey-green pupils.
“I am but a stone in a path. Take me to the river, throw me in the water, and put my heart away.” He ended with a sweet, confident smile.
“Um, what? I don’t understand.” This was not any magic I knew of.
My father touched the palm of my hand, like a fortune teller. “The flares of the dying will lead you home.” His eyes went wide, looking like a mannequin or a doll. “We sparkle, we shine.” He held his hand up to mine, as if comparing the sizes. “We glow.”
“We glow?”
“And sometimes that is our downfall.”
The room shook as the floor opened to reveal the f
