When I hopped the fence and saw her face at last, I was a goner. As much as I made every effort to hide it, there would never be anyone else.
Which is exactly why I must not turn back.
I turn my attention to the task at hand, shoving away the memory and storing it for safekeeping. When I reach the lowest part of the dungeon, determination drives each step. Past the façade to the white-doored cell beside Ebony’s empty glass one. I don’t even give it another thought before I unlock the door and enter.
My boots scrape smooth cement as I slide into the windowless, white-walled room. It smells of sanitizer and bleach. I blink away the burn and stare at the prisoner lying strapped to a makeshift medical table.
Jonathan Gage’s eyes remain closed. Hard to believe I once considered him a friend and ally. His strapped arms and legs twitch, but otherwise he gives no indication he’s aware an intruder lurks nearby. His bare chest climbs and descends, and a scar slashes his torso from shoulder to hip. His Guardian tattoo remains stamped on his right breast, a crown encircling a crossed sword and arrow. “To the Crown until Death,” it reads. My fists clench. If I could rip the farce off his naked chest, I would.
Kuna was my friend, unlike this wretched swine. And yet Kuna has passed and Gage lives on. In what Reflection is this right or just? I was powerless to stop what happened. If in some way my actions now make up for my past failures, I will forever thank the Verity for the chance to set things right.
I glare at Gage. What does one say to a murderer?
The fluorescent light overhead buzzes as I approach the man who killed Kuna. For a moment I see the man I served beside. The one who helped Makai train me. The one I would have given my life for had it become necessary, as is the Guardian way.
But that man is dead, and I doubt he will ever return.
I lean forward and brace against the table’s edge. “I know you are awake, Jonathan.”
A menacing grin slithers over his mouth. “To what do I owe this pleasure, David?”
“It is ‘sir’ to you, traitor.”
“Ah, how the tables have turned.” His eyes remain closed. “Was it only last autumn I said the same about Kyaphus?” He tsk, tsk, tsks. “Tell me, if I am a traitor, why have you come? Surely you have not ventured all the way down here to catch up on old times.”
My fingers press harder into the table. “I am here to strike a bargain. Your life in exchange for what I seek.”
“And what is it you seek?”
“You know the whereabouts of Isabeau Archer.”
“I do.”
“Take me to her.”
“And why would I do such a thing?”
“Because, should you refuse, I will kill you.” My words are blunt and simple. True.
He laughs. “You don’t have it in you, David.”
The sound of metal sliding against leather echoes around the small space as I draw my sword. In one swift move I wield the weapon, which is more like a third arm, and press it to his neck.
His eyelids flash open, but his gaze remains fearless. Calling or none, he was always good at masking his emotions. A well-oiled machine made to protect and defend.
And kill.
“I see you have come a long way since your wooden sword training days,” he rasps, stretching his neck. “What do you want with Isabeau anyway?”
“She possesses an item I require.”
“Ha. And what makes you so sure she will give it to you?”
My grip on the hilt tightens. I press just enough to draw a trickle of blood. “She is in the business of trading, is she not? I have a hunch she will be more than willing to exchange what I seek for her servant boy.”
Gage winces.
I’ve cut his ego. Good.
“You will need to trade more than me to procure what you desire.” His head turns half an inch and my blade slices, blood oozing onto its edge. Hands clenched and biceps bulging against their restraints, he says, “Might I ask what is important enough for you to enlist the help of a lowly traitor?”
If I was not being extremely gracious tonight, I might give him another gash for sarcasm alone. I lift the sword away and wipe the blood onto his pant leg. “I am in search of a bottle.”
Gage breathes easier now. “A bottle, huh? Just a bottle? I don’t buy it. If you want me to take you to Isabeau, I’m afraid specificity is required.”
“I need a bottle fashioned from mirrorglass.” I shove my sword in its sheath and lean over him, my face directly above his. Even if Isabeau doesn’t possess the item, if she is on good terms with the so-called Fairy Queen, the Troll will have a way to obtain it. “Do we have a deal?”
“Why, yes,” Gage hisses. “I suppose we do.”
TWENTY-SIX
No One Else
Long after Ky finishes playing, after his fingers slip from the ivories and fold between his knees, we remain silent. Eye contact? Nonexistent. Tension? Thicker than Reggie’s triple-layer fudge cake. The echo of Ky’s song in my head is the only sound. Haunting me. Raising more questions in my ready-to-explode brain. One stands out among the rest.
How is it possible we are this close? This fast?
My relationship with Joshua developed over a period of three years. But a couple weeks with Ky and we shared the rarest of kisses. I know a Kiss of Infinity stems from somewhere deep inside, from feelings you may not be aware you possess. Still, it seemed crazy.
Until now.
It’s as if our paths were meant to cross, our lips destined to meet. I questioned it before, but we must have something deeper. How else could he write a song melodizing my soul?
Is it possible we’ve met before?
Ky rubs his hands together, rests them on his thighs. If he listened to my thoughts just now, he gives nothing away. He remains cool. Collected. Quiet.
Not like himself at all.
I wish I could know what’s on his mind.
“You can.”
Blush. Could you try not to read every thought I think, please?
He shrugs. “Sorry. It was my connection to you while we were apart. I’ll try to refrain now that we’re together.”
Together. The word stirs something inside me. We’re close enough so when either of us makes the slightest shift, our arms brush. The electricity—our electricity—is undeniable. I should move away. Stand on the other side of the room. Recoil from the treacherous touch.
Treacherous because it awakens something that has been asleep since he left. Something missing between Joshua and me.
Ky . . . my fingers twiddle . . . that song . . . I tuck my hair behind my ears . . . You’ve been playing it for me. Haven’t you?
“I’d hoped you heard it.” He closes his right hand into a fist, taps it against his knee. “I wanted you to, though I couldn’t be sure.”
I angle to face him. My knee knocks his. He continues to study his lap as I think, I did. I heard every note.
He glances up. Stares at the sheet music before him. “I’d always wondered what kept the Void inside me from spreading after what Tiernan did to me.” He speaks without preface, as if he knows what I came to ask.
Duh. Of course he knows. He can read my mind.