Ky is clothed now, wearing a V-neck sweater, crisp white T-shirt beneath. Dark jeans. Black dress shoes. Cocky, twisted smile. His gaze is intense, leaving nothing to question. Must he make his feelings for me so obvious?
I step back. Ky . . . Look down. Who . . . ? Swallow. The scars. The bruises? Who did this? Look up.
The space between his brows creases. “Some came from Jasyn’s Soulless.”
And the burn?
His eyes shift. Narrow. He works his jaw before he says, “Next question.”
Again I attempt to listen for his thoughts but hear nothing.
Move on. Get that lopsided grin back. Khloe said you wanted to see me. Is everything okay?
“Quite.” His focus finds mine again, the tension in his expression melting. He wiggles his eyebrows. Lists his head. “Can’t I simply want to look at you without everyone watching?”
My heart hits the door behind me. Joshua can’t see my mirrormark, so he’s always seen me as beautiful. But Ky? What does he see?
“Em . . .” He slides forward an inch, smelling of soap and brine. “You. Are. Beautiful. Every part. Every line and scar and flaw. Every blemish. I love it all. Maybe David is blind to your mark, but that’s where I count myself fortunate. He sees the you he wants to see. The you he thinks he can make you. I see you as you are.”
My walls vanish. All the tautness between us dissipates.
“And you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Ky is so close now I’m positive he’ll touch me. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t have to.
Because I feel it, the invisible thread connecting us. It’s more tangible than ever. Like a force I can’t war against. Silence settles, the magnetism present but not as strong.
“Better hurry up.” He reaches past me to open the door, ending the moment. “We’ll be crossing the Threshold soon.”
Wait, I think. I remembered something.
“Oh?” He quirks a brow. “Do tell.”
I share about the Verity and the mirrorglass crown. Watch his mind work behind his shifting eyes.
“Mirrorglass, you said?”
I nod.
His lips flatten. “I think this bit of information will prove useful when we speak with Countess Ambrose. Especially the part regarding mirrorglass.”
Why’s that?
“Because.” His Adam’s apple bobs at the precise moment his lashes lower. “The Fourth Reflection is where mirrorglass was first discovered.”
I’d always assumed the ship’s captain steered or drove or whatever. Wrong. A guy named Flint is the pilot, in charge of navigation and steering. He wears a shark-tooth necklace and a stoic expression, unblinking eyes focused beyond the ship’s bow.
Ky braces against the upper-deck railing five feet away, elbows locked, regard fixed on the sea. His gaze darts back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. He doesn’t even glance in my direction when I emerge from the captain’s cabin. What’s he looking for?
Flint tilts the wheel left an inch. Right two. I shuffle past him, careful not to disturb his concentration. His expression hovers between serious and afraid.
My stomach flips. Great. Now I’m worried. Is there something about the Fourth’s Threshold they’re not telling me?
When I reach the steps leading to the main deck, I pause and cast a sidelong glance at Ky. Creased lines edge his eyes, span his forehead. I want to reach out and smooth those lines with my fingertips. The urge is so strong I have to keep moving.
On the main deck, the crew works in uniform silence, their miens reflecting the captain’s. Streak readies the lifeboats, the cords of his neck rigid. A guy named Sam, but referred to as Gunner, stocks his person with knives, a sword, a pistol. Charley marches past me, a quiver of arrows attached to her hip, a bow made of redwood to match her hair clutched in her left hand.
I clutch Dimitri’s journal in my right hand and move to the railing. Fog engulfs us, floating across and around and through. It’s like dry-ice smoke but thinner. A ghost’s shadow. Does Flint bear a unique Calling that allows him to find his way blindly? What category would such a gift fall under?
Everyone seems to be dressed in their best. Not gala fancy, more business casual. Collared shirts, slacks, a few ties. Apparently Countess Ambrose is someone to impress. Even Tide, who stocks packs with sandwiches and canteens, has swapped his trademark board shorts for khakis and a polo shirt.
I glance down. Frown. I dug through the trunk containing my things and found the sundress I wore to my eighth-grade graduation. It’s a little too tight, pinching my underarms, the middle buckling in places. But at least it falls past my knees. I dressed it up with a cardigan, leggings, and flats. It’ll have to do.
Not sure what else to do, I open the journal and turn to the place I left off. But then I change my mind and flip forward several chapters. I know it’s here somewhere. I made a mental note of it back in Joshua’s study. I lick my thumb, flip one, two, three—aha! I knew it. Perfect.
Twenty-Eighth Day, Tenth Month, Tenth Year of Count VonKemp
Perhaps the most interesting discovery I have made upon my return to the Fourth Reflection is a substance I am respectively terming “mirrorglass.”
Yes!
I have not been here since I was a boy, and the Fourth’s beaches are teeming with it. Where did it come from? Was it here when I was a child? The residents have not paid it much mind. I took it upon myself to ask Count VonKemp if I might be at liberty to study the stuff. He allowed it and I have been cooped up in this cramped room for a number of months, examining the substance’s properties. While my original intention was to merely pass through the Fourth, as this is my place of birth, and head straight to the Fifth, I am fascinated by my newfound discovery and cannot yet bring myself to move on.
Sounds like Mom when she was working on a difficult painting. Once she put her mind to it, there was no getting her away from her studio. I had to practically pry her brush out of her hand to get her into the sun once.
Findings:
Lightweight but strong. Looks like glass, but upon testing proves to be extremely durable and difficult to break.
Will not melt when put through mortal fire. (Note for future study: Might Dragon fire have a different effect?)
Appears to have a reverse effect of some sort. When sharp pieces were used to cut the surface of skin, the wound immediately healed upon drawback.
I sigh my frustration and turn a page. I know all of this already. Surely there must be something new—
The ship shudders, drawing my gaze level. Streak, Tide, and Gunner lower the anchor as one. Flint skirts the wheel and stands beside Ky. They exchange a cryptic look I can’t decipher.
“There it is.” Khloe stands to my left. She looks like a doll in her cornflower-blue pinafore dress and Mary Janes.
I knit my brows and snap the journal closed.
“Look closer.” She gestures out to sea. Toward nothing.
I squint in the direction of her extended finger. Nothing. Nothing. Noth—Wait. There. Beyond the gray. Something . . . Is that . . . ?