He’d do the same for me.
An ache resides deep within my chest. He can’t die. There has to be help on the way. More Guardians. Someone. Anyone.
Past the green light at the bottom of the whirlpool waits an exact reflection of another. When I think I’m swimming down, I’m suddenly swimming—being dragged—up. Disoriented much?
I’m dumped on a shore of mud and reeds, turn on my side. My lungs burn, expelling water as I cough and choke and . . . is that blood? “Josh . . . ooo . . . waaaaah!” I scream-cry-wail, though it sounds nothing like it feels. My voice is too hoarse to do the agony inside justice. I feel as if I’ve been run over by a Mack Truck. Then dropped down a manhole. Then swept away with a horde of sewer rats.
Dead. I’d rather be dead.
An awning of branches, leaves, bark, and needles shades me. Trees. So many trees. Tall and wide and towering, and they all have . . . doors?
The chirping chorus of a middle-of-nowhere morning sings all around me. It’s a foreign noise. Irksome. One I’ve heard on the sound machine by my bed, but never in real life. Engines revving and tires screeching. Horns honking and sirens blaring. A butcher spraying down rubber mats. A native cursing at a cab that won’t stop. Those are the tunes on home’s soundtrack. Not incessant twittering.
My parka is long gone, lost somewhere between Reflections. I’m soaked and muddy and—yuck—Mom’s Uggs are waterlogged. My toes squish in my socks. But the discomfort is nothing compared to the numbness closing in. The blackness that threatened to swallow me after I thought Mom had died returns. And I don’t even care.
“His Sovereignty won’t be happy when he learns you used your Calling on the girl.” Ky speaks in a low, agitated whisper, his voice fading in and out. I can’t see him, but he isn’t far.
“I did what was necessary to apprehend her,” Haman says. “His Sovereignty has access to . . . medicines. The castle hosts some of the most talented Physics in this Reflection. She’ll be taken care of once we reach our destination.”
No. She—I won’t. I let my hand fall back into the water. Cool. Inviting. Deadly.
“No medicine or Physic can reverse what you’ve done.” Ky again. As much as I detest him, I hate Haman more. “His Sovereignty was adamant—he wants her alive. I’m an accomplice in this. Your careless actions affect me too. Crowe will have our souls if we ruin his plan.”
I blink away black and orange spots. Glance at the water. Come on. Plenty of unbelievable stuff has happened recently. Any minute Joshua will break the surface. He’ll turn up alive, just like Mom.
I inhale and flinch. The small movement of my ribs expanding, pushing against my skin, confirms my condition is bad. Am I really dying? My fingers wiggle in wetness. All it would take is one willful roll and I’d be back in the water. With each second that ticks by, the truth sinks deeper, anchoring me in reality. He’s not coming. He’s—gulp—gone. How can I keep going when Joshua is—?
“Like I said, His Sovereignty can cure her. One way or another, he always gets his way. Surely you have discovered that by now.”
I inch my foot over, off the ledge and into the water.
“And if he doesn’t?” Yep. I detest Ky less. He won’t back down, even from a bully as detestable as Haman.
“You dare doubt our master? Be careful, Kyaphus. You know what His Sovereignty does to those who defy him. If he’s willing to lock up Elizabeth, I guarantee he will not hesitate to do far worse to you.”
Mom. I lift my hand and foot from the pool. Darkness rolls away in thick clouds. Light filters in as my vision begins to clear. I can’t go through with it. Mom needs me.
Quiet. The argument is over. Clop, clop, clop. I try to sit. Excruciating. Crunches were never my thing, but this is ridiculous.
Two hands grab me beneath my arms. “Wait,” Ky says. “You’ll never be able to do it on your own.”
I want to lurch away, but I can’t even do that. “Don’t touch me.”
He laughs, almost to himself. “No way around it. Either you let me help you, or you die right here. Your choice.”
I stare at my feet, guarding myself from his paralyzing gaze. Mom. Do it for Mom. “Fine.”
It takes a drawn-out process of grimaces, pauses, and slow breaths to get me vertical. Ky is soaked through too. His jeans suction against his legs, his wet blond hair curling in places.
The pool is nestled in a circular clearing with trees bordering all sides. The hues of autumn quake in a dainty breeze. Red, orange, yellow, and brown all wave hello. A greeting from my favorite season, but I can’t bring myself to appreciate it. It’s meaningless without the ones I love by my side.
Two horses wait on a path ahead, one ebony and the other spotted gray. I have one arm around Ky, and he nudges me inch by inch. Wait. My feet dig like roots into the rich, moist soil.
Joshua. I didn’t get to say good-bye.
Ky presses his lips against my ear. “Don’t even think about it.” He guides me forward, and I have no choice but to fall into step beside him.
Do it for Mom. She was always the goal.
I know, I know. But as we move farther and farther away from the Threshold, the pain around my heart deepens. Joshua is gone. If this is the price of love, it’s one I can’t afford.
My hand lifts to my collarbone. But the space is bare. No. “Stop. We have to go back. My necklace . . . it must have come off in the water.” The gift may have been Joshua’s way of keeping tabs on me, but it was so much more to me. And it’s all I have left of him.
For a portion of an instant, Ky pauses. Will he at least give me this?
No. We’re moving again.
Heartless jerk.
When we reach the horses, Haman strides into view. He mounts the black steed with ease, then turns up the collar of his jacket before he takes the reins.
“I’ll lift you up first.” Ky helps me get a foot into one stirrup, then boosts me onto the freckled horse.
And then I’m falling.
He catches me. Didn’t see that one coming. He’s stauncher than he first appears.
I won’t thank him.
Once I’m finally sitting seven feet above the earth, Ky mounts the steed in one smooth move, pulls me into his chest.
I hate that I need him. “Don’t get any ideas. Just because I’m not strong enough to fight you right now does not mean we’re friends. You killed Makai. And . . . and Joshua . . .” My voice trembles. I swallow and steady it. “You’re a murderer, just like Haman.”
“Be careful, princess,” he says in my ear. “I don’t tolerate being accused of crimes I didn’t commit.” One breath. Two. “But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
The empty condolences from Mom’s wake fill my mind. He’s sorry? I want to punch him. Slap him. Anything to cause him pain. But I can hardly move, so I say, “I hate you. I will never forgive you for this.”
His head nods against the side of mine. “Duly noted.”
The horse’s jarring trot increases my discomfort, but it isn’t as painful as trying to walk. We pass over a cobbled lane, weeds shooting up through dislodged stones. Every ten feet an unlit lamppost stands, all with glass shattered. The trees curve inward, creating a tunnel effect. These have doors, too, and are stacked together like row houses, tall and slender, with hardly any room separating one trunk from another.