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“He’s dead.” That was all she could utter, trembling, when she appeared in the doorway of their house. It was the last coherent thing Vittoria managed to say – a sign that everything was about to come crashing down in a matter of seconds.
Alecto remembers that moment like it happened just a few minutes ago, even though it's been weeks. She remembers it was night-time, the early hours of the morning, when those desperate knocks on the door made them jump out of bed. Alecto remembers Cuervo looking at her in alarm, hearing him mutter “Joder” as they led their friend inside. She remembers Vittoria looking disoriented, almost dazed, gazing around with eyes misted over by tears she struggled to hold back until Alecto embraced her.
You can be fucking sure she remembers.
It’s part of being a Crow, isn’t it? It comes with the job. One day you’re feeling great, and the next, you simply no longer exist. Of course, it’s much easier when you mistakenly think it can only happen to you. Alecto knows from experience that the hardest part is not for the departed, but those who remain. She herself experienced the fear of loss on the day she found Cuervo battered, his face covered in scars and one eye lost forever. The image still makes her swallow hard. At that moment, it dawned on her that any day now, one of them might not come back. She didn’t care in the slightest if it was her, but losing him? The mere thought is utterly unbearable.
That’s why she understands Vittoria, or thinks she does, as far as is possible.
There was a time when, foolishly, she wanted to believe that this grief wouldn’t last; after all, Vittoria had already suffered the loss when she realised they could never be together. That was hard, but she got over it, more or less. Alecto smiles as she thinks about how similar they can be, finding solace in someone else's arms, trying to ensure that the touch they longed for so much remains forgotten forever, lost amongst the kisses of those who aren’t that person, but still help to forget. It doesn’t always have to be a bad thing: that’s how Cuervo and she met. And if Alecto was lucky, why shouldn’t Vittoria be too?
Cuervo sits down on the sofa beside her, wrapping an arm round her shoulder, and pulls her close. At least they have each other.
“One step at a time, cariño,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on her forehead. “You know what self-destructive spirals are like – all you can do is wait.”
Alecto lets out a soft chuckle. “The voice of experience—that’s us.” She lets Cuervo reassure her, focusing on the sensation of his fingers in her hair. “That’s what worries me. That she’ll do something irreversible and we’ll lose her. I’d never forgive myself for that.”
“Hey.” he makes her lift her head to look him in the eyes. “I’m the pessimist here, OK?” She nods and lets him kiss her for a few seconds.
The atmosphere is thick, the air heavy with foreboding, but Cuervo is right—there’s nothing they can do but wait, to be there when Vittoria needs them. And they will be, of that she can be sure.
The door creaks as it swings open when Vittoria returns home. They’ve managed to persuade her to stay with them for a while, for the time being, so she won’t be alone. They have less privacy, but that doesn’t matter; their friend’s wellbeing is what counts now.
The way the sparkle in those dark eyes has faded makes Alecto’s heart ache every time she sees her. She’s always been strong—far stronger than Alecto herself—and determined like few others, but all this has caused the splendid Crow that is Vittoria De Riva to hide behind a cloud of despair. Arguments with Viago are more frequent—though who doesn’t fight with him?—and Alecto herself is frustrated by her Talon’s indolence. Knowing the risks doesn’t make things any easier—or at least it shouldn’t. Jerk.
“I’ve come to say goodbye,” Vittoria gets straight to the point. Her gaze is hard and her voice firm; she knows she’ll meet resistance. “I’m grateful for what you’ve done for me, I really am, but I can’t stand it any longer. I have to get out of here. To work.”
“Tori…” Cuervo tries to talk her round, though it’s a lost cause
“Don’t ‘Tori’ me,” his friend retorts sharply. “There are loads of contracts still to be completed. At least I’ll be of some use.”
Alecto grits her teeth, trying to restrain herself. “Don’t talk crap. There are plenty of contracts, but honestly, I don’t think you’re in any state to—”
Nothing can prepare her for what is about to happen. Vittoria narrows her eyes, looking at her with a contempt she wouldn’t have thought her capable of
“You say I’m not up to it? And what sort of condition is that, Alecto? Am I supposed to stay here, licking my wounds, whingeing?” She raises her voice with every word, advancing menacingly towards her friend, who has risen from the sofa to speak face to face. The difference in size between the two women is considerable. “That might suit someone like you, but if you think I’m that fragile, you’re very much mistaken.”
This is a personal attack. Under normal circumstances she wouldn’t pay it the slightest attention – that’s the thing about impulsiveness – but Alecto has spent too many nights sleeping poorly, worried, exhausted. She, too, is unable to think clearly.
“Fragile, you say? FRAGILE?” she yells, unintentionally, her purple eyes flashing with rage. “No, Vittoria, I don’t think you’re fragile, but I didn’t think you were stupid enough to go out there looking to get yourself killed either!”
“And what the hell do you want me to do?” Vittoria finally breaks down, and tears stream down her cheeks once more. “I need to make sense of all this shit!”
She slams her fist down on the dining table, which creaks but doesn’t break. The things on it shake, and some of the ornaments fall to the floor, but nobody cares.
“It doesn’t make sense!” exclaims Alecto, desperate, crying too. “But it’ll make even less fucking sense if we lose you as well!” Her voice breaks. “Please.”
Vittoria swallows hard and presses her lips together. “He had everything to live for. Everything to come back for.”
Trembling with emotion, but calmer now, Alecto takes her hand. “Nothing changes what’s happened. You can’t bring him back, Tori, but you can stop your own life from going to shit in such a senseless way.”
Cuervo has been watching the scene unfold without interfering, knowing that it would only make matters worse. Now that it seems the worst is over, he approaches both women, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“What have you been thinking?” Alecto looks up, astonished, with a sense of betrayal. Cuervo looks at her apologetically. “I sympathize with her, Trouble. Sometimes you have to walk away to find your way back. And let’s not kid ourselves, the bars in Treviso will be grateful to restock.”
The joke hits home and draws a sad laugh from both of them. Cuervo is right; perhaps a change of scenery would do her good.
“Viago’s given me a few pending contracts; I think I’ll start with Rivain. Then… I’ll take it from there. I won’t do anything stupid, I promise.”
Alecto sighs, resigned. “Don’t promise what you won’t keep.”
Vittoria laughs, this time more heartily. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.” Alecto smiles back at her. “I’m really sorry for what I said before. Actually… I’m sorry for everything. I’ve brought you nothing but trouble.”
“We wouldn’t want you any other way,” Cuervo declares, speaking for both of them. “There’s nothing to regret. To us, you’re family, Vittoria, for better or for worse. And let me make this absolutely clear: you’ll always have a place to come back to here. We love you, little one.”
Cuervo has used that affectionate nickname for her ever since they met. She’s like a sister to him, and Alecto loves her as such. If she’s resisted the idea of her leaving, it’s out of fear of what a sudden burst of impulsiveness might lead to, but Cuervo is right.
She takes Vittoria’s hand in hers and squeezes it. “Just… send a message whenever you can”
Her friend hugs her tightly, with the warmth and affection that binds them together. “I’ll miss you,” Vittoria whispers, and Alecto feels her vision blur again. After saying goodbye to Cuervo in the same way, she gathers her things, ready to leave.
They watch her walk down the street, without looking back and with a steady stride, and linger for a while longer after the sound of her footsteps has faded into the distance. Alecto closes her eyes and lets Cuervo’s arms wrap round her waist, embracing her from behind. They have each other; she just hopes that Vittoria will never forget that she will always have them both, no matter what happens.
“Since when have you been so good with words, Velasco de Riva?” she says mischievously, winking at him.
“I’ve always been,” he replies, pulling her close in his arms, then lifting her up and kissing her lips. “It’s just that you’ve been distracted by my… other virtues.”
Alecto isn’t religious, but the way Cuervo smiles at her makes her thank the Maker every day