“Miss Elizabeth’ll be jus’ fine now, don’t y’all worry.” Dahlia comes up behind me, wagging a finger at no one in particular. She sniffs and swipes at her nose, red-rimmed eyes a clue she’s definitely coming down with something.
I open my mouth to ask about the Thresholds, but the woman talks over me.
“And you four.” She nods toward Tide, Khloe, Ebony, and Stormy. “Y’all get some shut-eye before makin’ yer way to the Fountain. Fastest way is to travel southeast through Nabka Forest. There’s a shortcut through this here compound.”
“Dahlia, I—”
“And as for us”—she slings an arm around my shoulder, standing on her toes so she doesn’t drag me down—“we best be gettin’ on with bed. Now that we know more about the Rose, we’ll want to be getting to Nabka Threshold in top condition. Me and Flint think it’s the finest option for what we’re trying to accomplish with wormhole jumping and all.”
Well, I guess that answers that question. No wonder she was wrong about the Rose. She’s all talk and no listen.
“But like I said, sleep first. Verity knows, we need it. If I was lied to about the Rose, who knows what else my old-woman brain has missed. Just goes to show even Evers ain’t perfect.” She chuckles and walks away, taking cover in a nearby tent.
Everyone else disperses, the Nitegra tribe welcoming us with all the hospitality they can give. I choose a spot beneath a scarce tree. I’ll wait until things die down. Then I’ll find Gage. I know he’s here. It’s just a matter of weeding him out.
I settle in and my brain runs rampant through the day’s events. I shudder to think of what will happen if Isabeau finds Em first. Will she use her, then kill her? She’d win on all counts in that case. End her immortal curse and slice Elizabeth with the deepest cut imaginable. Our mission is more important now than ever. The Fountain of Time is our answer to everything.
“Don’t fool yourself,” my unmentionable side taunts. “If a drink of the Rose’s water was a magic fix, why wouldn’t Isabeau use it for herself? Her deepest desire is to save herself. Why not drink the dew and reverse the curse on her own?”
“That’s the catch, isn’t it?” I utter beneath my breath. According to The Scrib’s Fate, only one pure of heart can enter the Garden. If the Rose came from the Garden, perhaps the drinker’s heart must be pure as well.
My veins throb, the pain in my Void-infested body becoming harder to ignore. I withdraw my mirrorglass blade and make a small incision on each forearm. Black blood oozes from the cuts, relieving some of the pressure in my shaking arms. The blood’s deathly scent is pungent, making my stomach churn. If anyone else notices, they make no mention. Good. We have more important things to tend to than the bleeding Void’s vessel.
I remove the vial from my pocket and roll it between my fingers. Watch as Wren and David argue twenty feet away. She’s guarded him like a hawk—griffin—since we left the cottage. Maybe she can reach into his dark soul and withdraw whatever measure of David is left. Makai thinks it’s up to me. But if I’m being honest? I’m pretty sure only one person can bring David back from the dark place he’s journeyed.
We need you, Em.
A familiar sense of warmth and acceptance wraps me. I almost feel the Void disappear. My wounds have closed, the black blood dried on my skin. I sense her beside me as I stand and set out through the camp.
Pure intentions, huh? Guess we’ll just see about that.
EIGHTEEN
Ebony
I can’t believe he actually left his junk and walked away. How perfectly convenient Ky Rhyen has more important things on his mind than his smelly old backpack. He takes this thing everywhere? Has he ever washed it?
I pinch the straps. Hold it out and away from my body. From the odor wafting off of it, I’d say that’s a big fat no. Too bad he keeps his mirrorglass knife strapped to his side. It’d be cool just to see how it works.
“If you bothered to ask, my brother would probably let you see it. No problem.”
The words Khloe would say, if she were awake, ping the conscience I’ve been hearing more often as of late. Oddly enough, it’s always Khloe’s voice I hear when I’m doing something less than noteworthy. When did I let that kid get under my skin?
“First day we met, duh.”
And there she is again, speaking truth. She may be slightly correct. Rhyen probably would allow me to look at his books, his knife, if I simply bothered to submit the request. But he’s gone off somewhere, and his pack full of reading material is just sitting here for anyone to look through. I’m doing him a favor by keeping it safe, taking it back to my tent with me.
That’s what I’m telling myself anyway.
My return stroll through the compound is unpresuming. Tiptoeing isn’t my thing. Besides, I’m not some criminal. Don’t want to draw attention to myself as if I am either. Nah. I’m simply a girl who’s about to do a little late-night reading, if you don’t mind.
When I’m ten feet away from the tent’s entrance, Tide’s shoulders start to shake. One thing I love—like, I mean like—about him is the way he can see the light in things. His mother was murdered recently, and here he is, poking fun at me.
“Did a little shopping, did you?” He stands and blocks the entrance, folding his arms over his chest and casting one of his loose grins. “What is it you girls call it these days? Vintage?”
A kick in the ribs would do him some good. Instead, I hug the bag tighter, attempt to squeeze by. “Rhyen asked me to hold on to it for him.”
“Is that right?” One of his eyebrows arches higher than the other, disappearing beneath a tangle of black hair. “Then by all means.” Stepping to the side, he sweeps a hand and lifts a canvas flap. “Be my guest.”
I roll my eyes, make an annoyed sound at him in my throat that comes out something like “Ugkh,” lower my head, and stoop inside.
“Don’t let the door hit you on your way to Liarville,” he says behind me, lets the flap fall.
It doesn’t hit me. Ha. Who’s laughing now?
“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” His singsong chanting sends heat up my neck and over my ears.
“Shut up,” I hiss through my teeth. Nice. Real smooth, Ebony. Where’d you come up with that one?
Tide peeks his head through the sliver at the center. “Your wish is my command.” He winks. Then he’s gone again.
I stick out my tongue the moment his head disappears, then suck it back in. Impossible, stubborn boy. Look how you’re making me act. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—this crushing teenage girl is so not me. Why can’t he leave me alone? I’m perfectly fine by myself, thanks. No room for a couple here. It’s just me, myself, and I.
Ugh, except it’s not anymore, is it? I set the book bag down and cover a sleeping Khloe with the wool blanket she managed to kick off in the five minutes I was absent. Brushing her spring curls off her round, baby-doll face, I kiss her forehead. She smells like dirt and more dirt, but beneath that lies her true scent. The little-girl one that goes away when you reach the age of fifteen or so. I can’t deny I love her. How much longer can I keep lying about what I feel for Tide?