This is why.
This is why.
This. Is. Why.
The reason she didn’t give me a Kiss of Infinity. She takes my actions as mean and cold, stubborn, when really it’s my love for her fueling me. How could she give me such a kiss when she doesn’t truly believe I love her?
I shake my head. She doesn’t see my love. Time to rectify that.
I tap Wren on the shoulder.
She turns slowly, her expression blank.
Fist to my mouth, I clear my throat. “I require your services.”
It’s difficult to perceive, but I think I see a hint of a grin surface. She doesn’t respond but her pupils dilate.
We stare at each other, and for the first time in years I wonder if we have a chance at being friends again. I smile. “How do you feel about going on a little journey?”
She folds her arms over her chest and raises one eyebrow. “I thought you’d never ask.”
ASIDE
KY
And so it begins.
She doesn’t know it yet, but this will lead her here. The Threshold in the Second isn’t the first to be affected, and it won’t be the last. I could tell her, call to her, but it must be her choice.
And so I wait.
ELEVEN
Change
If I wasn’t in my right mind I’d chuck this blasted mirrorglass crown off the hill. What good does it do me? No one looks to me. Listens. They still think of Joshua as their leader. And can I blame them? One look at him and people think, Noble. Worthy. King.
What do they think when they look at me? Imposter? Intruder? Wannabe?
“Don’t be ridiculous, Em. This insecurity is the old you. You know better. The Verity chose—”
“Just leave me alone.” The smallest burst of Verity burns in my gut. As if it’s staging a silent protest to my words. I tug at the ends of my hair. Regret my harsh tone. None of this is Ky’s fault. “I’m sorry.”
“I know. It’s fine.” Though his words reassure, his voice in my head reveals a pinch of hurt.
Ugh. This sucks. Joshua and I are at odds—again—and now I’ve hurt Ky? Maybe. I don’t know. He’s probably not even real. Of course he’s not.
Or is he?
I’d like to scream my head off now if you don’t mind. Okay, thanks.
Anxiety revs my nerves as I enter the door leading into the kitchens. Old memories lift from storage. I take them out, dust them off, and see them anew. The frame around a not-so-long-ago scene shrouds my vision, gives me the smallest intermission between act one’s cliffhanger and the impending twist awaiting me in act two.
It’s last November and our final night in the Maple Mines. Only one day left until we reach the Haven. The other half of our group sleeps soundly a few feet away. Stormy lying on her side near the tunnel’s wall. Joshua slouched against a tree root thick as a log. Kuna and Preacher sitting back-to-back, chins digging into their chests. What happened with Gage in Wichgreen Village seems like a lifetime ago rather than days. I’m exhausted to the bone. But for some reason, whenever Ky takes the lookout shift, I can’t sleep. I don’t think he minds though.
After four days spent navigating root-infested tunnels with nothing but the undersides of maple trees on the horizon, I should be more than thrilled about the prospect of a warm bed.
Except the thought of leaving moments like these behind pinches my pulse. Sometime between Ky saving my life and now, a change occurred. We became . . . friends? He still doesn’t know Tiernan Archer, the despicable man who raised him, is my father. How can I tell him? It would ruin what we have, and I’m not willing to give that up. Not yet.
“Give me your hand,” Ky whispers. The kerosene lantern on the ground between us washes his face in amber light, causing the flecks of gold in his green eye to glimmer. His brown eye lights up, too, like a warm cup of cocoa inviting a first sip.
I eye him. “Why?” Suspicion laces my tone.
He dons a knowing look, chin tucked in and one brow quirked. “What’s the matter, Em?” He offers his hand, palm up. “Afraid I’ll bite?”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever, Edward.” I jut my fist forward, not at all sorry it pokes him in the ribs.
A huff escapes his lips. “Comparing me to sparkly vampires now? You’re losing your touch if that’s the best you can come up with.”
Ky’s pop culture fluency isn’t so surprising anymore. He did live in the Third with his adoptive mother and younger sister, Khloe—my actual younger sister—for several years. They hid from Tiernan, who had given himself over to the Void. The more I learn about Ky, the more I find we have in common. A connection both foreign and familiar. Ky takes my upturned arm, pushes my sleeve north, and runs his fingers over my skin from elbow to wrist.
All Twilight puns elude me. “What are you doing?” I draw back. Take in a breath. Finger the rose-button necklace at my collarbone. It’s only been a few days since Ky gave it to me—made it for me—but it feels as if it’s always been right here.
“I’m helping you relax.” He grasps my arm again, initiating tingles as he runs his fingers back and forth. Back and forth.
My muscles grow heavier as my fist curls open. My lips part, and I close my eyes without preamble. “Now what?” The words release on an exhale.
“Shhh. Wait. Trust me.”
Trust me. Joshua made the same request the night at the Pond in Central Park. It should be easier to trust the boy I’ve known for years rather than one I just met. But there’s something about Ky. Something causing my heart to put faith in him even when my brain warns me against it.
One deep inhale. Two. Then something small and round drops into my palm. My eyelashes lift. Gasp. “Where did you get candy?” The sugary scent alone, like maple syrup, forces my mouth to water.
“Keep your voice down. Otherwise it won’t work.”
I huff but don’t allow another question to escape. Curiosity wins. For now.
We remain motionless, our breaths plateauing. I watch the candy in my palm. Inhale. Exhale. After a while I make the mistake of meeting Ky’s gaze.
He’s staring at me, his regard so intense I can’t tear my eyes away. He inches closer, bumps the lantern with one knee. Using his knuckles he strokes my arm again, only adding to the heat building between us. This time his touch doesn’t relax me. It kindles something. His fingers are matches.
And my skin is on fire.
Gulp.
Flit. Flicker. My head whips right. “What was that?”
Ky touches a finger to his lips.
Another flash, this time to my left. An insect? Firefly, perhaps?
A tap against my palm. More candy?
I look down. Oh my chronicles—definitely not candy.
A stubbly cheeked boy Fairy no taller than my thumb stands next to the treat, chiseling at it with the smallest pickax I’ve ever beheld. Grimy overalls hug his miniature frame. He removes a handkerchief from one pocket and wipes his brow. He could almost be human if not for the gray, mothlike wings, twitching every so often, protruding from his back.