Prod. A dark gaze. A seemingly innocent plea. Then I’m fooled again. Kyaphus brings a rope over my head, pulls it back against my neck.
Ping. Kyaphus supports Gage. Watches as my wrists are bound behind my back.
The Verity plays tug-o-war for my heart and mind. But the Void?
“It’s okay.” The darkness billows across my soul. “You have a right to feel this way. He deserves for you to hate—”
No. I’m not hurting him. I’m hurting myself.
“Yes. Let the anger build. Stop fighting what feels oh so natural.”
No. Think of Joshua. Of good and right and real.
Running full force into him after Gage’s adaptation of Invasion of the Body Snatchers.
Cold and weary, sinking into Joshua’s arms inside the cabin of a ship.
Holding each other on the beach in the Fourth.
And the kissing. Oh, the kissing. Joshua’s a good kisser, an amazing kisser. The hatred subsides, my mind slips into ease. He’s autumn. Cedar. Cinnamon. Cloves. He’s color-changing leaves, Thanksgiving dinner, pumpkin pie, cider, hayrides. He’s cranberry and plum and auburn.
I expect the Verity to thump brighter. Hotter. To jump at the pleasant memories. Instead, my anger seems to billow and grow, overshadowing the light with a blanket of thick darkness.
So, for the smallest moment, I let the darkness come.
What is this new surge of rejuvenation? This sudden burst of desire to scale the trees surrounding me? I feel strong, I feel . . . alive.
“This way.” Odessa’s whisper jars me. She wags two fingers in a beckoning motion above one shoulder.
Shoving away my tangled emotions, the new longing to stay close to the shadows, I follow. The ground is so soft my feet sink into the dirt with each step.
“Stay close,” Jasyn says. “I have never met Her Grace, but I have heard rumors. I fear she is all that is relayed about her and more.”
Rumors. Right. I doubt he’d share even if he had time. Gotta keep the mystery going and all. Because in no story ever does anything just get revealed.
I lick my lips and swallow, feeling the weight of my Mirrorlessness. It’s been too long since I’ve sung, I mean really belted a tune. Without my Mirror, is there even any point?
Yes, a voice whispers within. Always.
A roar resounds.
The trees quake.
The earth trembles. And the still, small voice retreats.
Odessa hesitates, then moves forward with caution, her steps not quite as sure as before. The trees space out more until they form a circular clearing. Golden poppies surround an emerald throne, an unbroken road of yellow brick paving a path through the poppies into the clearing’s center. And there, atop the throne, is none other than Her Grace the Lioness. She’s cloaked in a robe of ruby red, and her tail swishes back and forth.
She’s a lion. Like, a real one. Move over, Nala. Behold the true queen of the jungle.
When she opens her fearsome mouth, I almost turn and book it. Then I remember who I am and stand a little straighter. Because I too am a ruler, though no one here is aware of the fact. Still, I refuse to cower.
“Come forth, Matron of Munchkins.”
Matron of Munchkins?
Odessa dips her head and slips off her shoes. When she follows the brick path leading to Her Grace’s throne, she keeps her head bowed. Reverence radiates from the tip of her black bob cut down to her stubby bare toes. When she arrives at the foot of the throne, she lowers herself to both knees. “Your Grace.”
The Lioness nods. “State your purpose.” Her voice carries the feminine tone of Countess Ambrose’s but the command of Makai’s.
“I have found her, Your Grace. The girl we have been waiting for.”
Wait, what? I take a step back.
Her Grace focuses on me and then on Odessa once more. “And what makes you so certain?”
Odessa turns her head and nods toward Jasyn. Without a glance in my direction, my grandfather removes his shoes and steps forward, following in the Munchkin woman’s footsteps all the way to the opposite-of-cowardly lioness. He takes a knee beside Odessa, but does it in a way that makes him seem more above than below.
“Your Grace,” Jasyn says in an even deeper voice than normal. “Allow me to elaborate.”
“As you will.” She licks her lips.
Please don’t let her be hungry.
To Her Grace’s feet Jasyn says, “The girl bears no Calling, yet there are traces of the Verity on her. No one is closer to the Verity’s vessel than I, Your Grace. The Second’s king is my oldest comrade. I am well accustomed to detecting the light. And this girl carries it.”
Would someone please fill me in? I thought I was going to help them on some mission in exchange for a ticket home.
My breath hitches. Oh . . .
“Allow the girl to speak for herself then.” The Lioness rises. Prowls around her throne. When she comes full circle, I know what’s next. I brace myself.
Gulp. Maybe trusting Jasyn Crowe was a serious case of poor judgment.
At her approach, I stand my ground. I will not bow before someone, man or beast, who has yet to earn my respect.
As if reading my mind she asks, “You do not bow?”
I force myself to make eye contact with her glassy brown orbs. My heart ceases its rhythm.
“You will not answer me, child?” Her kind words carry a menacing aftertone.
I peer past her to find Jasyn and Odessa watching me with anxious expressions. I do my best to ignore their scrutiny. Focus on the queen of this jungle.
“What girl are you looking for?” Does she detect the earthquake rocking my insides? As brave as I may appear, I’m cowering within. A little Dorothy Gale who’s a long way from home. What did Odessa say? Her Grace would devour me without cause?
“It is hard to say.” She answers me without a hitch, speaking as if I am her equal and not an insubordinate foreigner. “We have been plagued by Shadowalkers for far too long. They are careless, selfish. Some believe they should be . . . reconditioned.” A pause. “Saved, as it were. These so-called heroes have made it their mission to help the creatures find the correct path. The one that leads to light.”
Because Shadowalkers choose darkness. She must be speaking of Aidan and the Council of Reflections. His conversation with Nathaniel makes perfect sense now. “What does this have to do with me?”
“As the Void’s vessel mentioned, you carry traces of the Verity. Now that I see you up close, I sense it myself.” She sniffs. “There is goodness in you that radiates from your very being.”
Goodness? I hug my stomach. Guilt festers. How good can I be if animosity tastes so sweet? There was a point when I believed something twisted inside caused the Thresholds to drain and the Callings to dwindle. Maybe I was right all along. How can the Verity stand me?
“However.” She tilts her head.
Ah, and there it is. I plant my hands on my hips. Ebony would be so proud. Okay, let’s have it, lion lady.
“While there is goodness in you, there are also hints of the Void.”
Hearing my greatest fear vocalized is acid on my skin. I wrap my right bicep with the fingers of my left hand. The blackened veins of the Void covered this arm once. Now it appears normal, but is it? Really? Maybe nothing ever leaves us. Perhaps deep down something so powerful and soul altering can’t ever really be gone. The idea crushes me, but . . .