In All Saints Cemetery the graves were tightly clustered around winding paths, larger crypts and monuments rising over them. It was difficult to see anything through them, but Bard caught a bit of movement in the distance. A couple of people, it looked like, doing some kind of... calisthenics? They were waving and windmilling their arms, stretching. And then, unmistakably—Kai. His seemingly off-balance but strangely graceful way of moving, his dark hair shining in the sunlight, his way of leaning forward as he listened to someone. 

Soon, the man that Kai stood facing moved out from behind a crypt. He had a grizzled beard and long black hair and was dressed in baggy, homemade-looking clothes. He was as tall as Kai, broader, soft in the middle, but in a way that was still powerful. Kai watched and listened to him with a respectful deference, nodding as the older man spoke, responding from time to time. The two then sat down folding stools and picked up... guitars? The older man leaned forward and adjusted the way Kai’s fingers pressed on the fretboard, tucked in his elbow, squared his shoulders, raised his chin.

“Bard?” Cassandra said. “You OK?”

“I don’t believe this,” Victory said. “This could only happen to you, Bard—you go to the cemetery for a peaceful picnic, and trouble follows you.”

“Is that his uncle?” Bard asked. “Jude—what was it—Ka-something?”

“Must be,” Victory said.

“He’s related to that guy? The weird American guru?” Cassandra asked. 

“You know who he is, too?” Bard asked.

“Some people pay attention to the world around them,” Victory said. 

“He’s Jude Kalani’s nephew,” Cassandra said. “How did I not know that?”

“You were probably too busy giving him the glad eye to listen to anything he said,” Bard said.

“You’re one to talk.”

Just then, Kai raised his head from his guitar—just the way he turned around when he was standing on the dance floor at New World, as if he sensed he was being watched. Even after all that had happened last night, that same, mad impression stayed with Bard—that Kai Harper had some kind of unaccountable connection with him. 

Bard tried to look away quickly and pretend like he hadn’t noticed Kai, but it was too late. Their eyes met. A blush spread across Kai’s cheeks as Bard felt the flush rise on his. For a moment, he wondered which of them would look away first. Then, to his relief—or disappointment?—Kai did, ducking down his head and returning his attention to his uncle.

“Did he see us?” Cassandra said in an unnecessary whisper.

“Yes,” Bard said.

“Right then.” 

She started to stand, but Bard grabbed her hand and pulled her back down.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going over there and asking what the hell he was thinking, being a complete tossing twat and wounding my only brother.”

“No, you are not. I don’t want you to talk to him, Cass. And aren’t you the one who said I shouldn’t obsess?” 

Cassandra sat down and glowered in Kai’s direction. “Victory, back me up here,” she said.

Victory looked at Bard. “No, Cass. Bard has this right. Just leave well enough alone.”

Not knowing what else to do, the three of them sat in the dappled sunlight under the tree and ate the almond cake Cassandra had made. It was flattish and the crumb didn’t hold together, but it was delicious.