Good thing no one ever asked. They’d totally be saying, “I told you so,” right now.
“Again!” Ebony’s shout barely carries over the storm’s roar. “Don’t go soft on me. Draw out the Magnet. Be the Magnet.”
Oh sheesh, she sounds like my old PE teacher. “See the ball. Be the ball.”
I swipe the rain from my eyes. Slick my hair off my face for the hundredth time. What I’d give to have Stormy here. What’s she been doing in my absence? If only there were such a thing as phone calls between Reflections. I wish with all my heart to see her. To tell her about everything that’s happened. To confide in her about Joshua. And Ky. Ebony has opened up to me, but I haven’t crossed that street yet. I’m still feeling her out I guess. Waiting to see if she’s for real this time.
“What are you waiting for?” she calls through cupped hands.
Ugh. Fine. I put thoughts of Stormy on hold, free my song again. My sneakers slip and slide on the rain-ridden deck. I’m on my knees. Back up. Ack, I’m down. Splinter through the heel of my palm. Lovely.
We didn’t hit poor weather until a couple hours in. Ebony and Khloe put their heads together, working to figure out what my Magnet ability might be.
“Water?” Khloe suggested.
Ebony shrugged. “We could try it.”
And we did. It was the most obvious since Stormy is the only Magnet Ebony and I have met.
Nada. Zilch. Water access denied.
“Wind?” Khloe offered. “Fire?”
Nope and nope. The storm drew closer, and still I’d summoned nothing. Except this isn’t just a storm, it’s a typhoon. Five bucks says we’re overboard before we reach the Threshold.
“I’ll take your wager and raise you ten,” Ky thinks. “We’ll make it.”
When did you become Mr. Optimistic?
“When I realized you loved me.”
Yesterday?
“Try two months ago.”
Why am I not surprised?
“Remember what I told you about Magnets?” The weather is too much and I’ve no clue where on the ship Ky is.
Sort of? Question? Statement? I’m too soaked to tell.
“C’mon, Em. Scrib is working fine. If anyone can remember, it’s you.”
I’m on my feet again. Trip. Bite my tongue. Taste blood. Magnets, hmm . . .
They have to maintain extreme focus. And the focus exhausts them, drains their energy.
Ugh, my energy is already drained. I’m starting a step behind.
“What else?”
I will my brain to recall our conversation that night at Wichgreen Village. So much information. Such a small span of time. But . . .
They summon things. Elements. Matter. Energy.
“Try earth!” Ebony calls, breaking my concentration. “The sand at the ocean bed. See if you can summon that. You could make an island for the ship to wait on until the storm ends.”
I shake my sore arm. Grab the hem of my sweatshirt and ring it out. My feet squish in my sneakers. Wind sends the rain down at a diagonal. Still, I home in on my song. Earth, huh? I’ll give it a whirl.
Annnnnnddddd no.
“Try energy!” Khloe again.
I shake my head. What energy? Where? How do I even wrap my brain around the concept?
Ebony makes a time-out T with her arms. My sisters and I huddle together, bodies racked with shivers. “This isn’t working.” Sniffle. Cough. “We should just hunker down and wait for the storm to pass. I’m useless.”
“You are not useless,” Ebony says. “We just haven’t found your niche.”
My niche. Right. “How do you summon energy? How is that a thing?”
“Too bad Tide’s not here.” Khloe bounces on her toes. Her soggy curls hang like wet rotini.
“That’s it!” With a side hug to our youngest sister, Ebony squeals, “Runt, you’re a genius!”
“I know.” Khloe’s smile is like a painted doll’s.
“What’d I miss?” I glance between them.
“Remember what Tide said?” When she says his name, Ebony lights up like the Lincoln Center fountain.
My conversations with Tide were few and brief at that. “He said . . .” It’s coming back to me. “The Thresholds are comprised of energies rather than elements and—”
“If a Threshold drains”—Ebony’s interruption is rushed and bubbling—“it would create a wormhole. Which is why you have to summon the Threshold now. This storm is a warning. By the time we reach the passageway into the Fifth, it could be too late.”
Holy Verity, could I summon a Threshold? And not only that, project the ability onto another? Could my sisters and I work together to draw the Fifth Reflection Threshold here to get us out of harm’s way? It’s worth a try.
I scoot back. Widen my stance. Close my eyes. The Verity springs up. I feel the power of my Calling surge, the spark before a blackout. Something tells me this is it. This is the last time the Verity will generate a Calling before going silent once more. And then it won’t be long before its light is doused entirely.
All or nothing. Make it count.
The ship rocks and tilts and I’m forced to brace myself against the railing. Thunder gives a standing ovation with its rounds of applause, while lightning flashes a curtain-call warning. Like the earthquakes, there’s no doubt this storm is anything but supernatural.
Which is why we cannot fail. I cannot fail. We will make it to the Fifth in one piece. We will find Dahlia Moon. We know a broken heart created the Void. Could the opposite rescind it?
The theory formed last night. Wide awake, I paced my room, mulling over the notion. If we could track down this immortal woman who was the first Verity’s vessel, help her find true love as she desired, could the Void be conquered?
Perhaps Dahlia Moon will have more answers.
Ebony waves her arms in frantic arches. I scan my peripherals, then try to block the chaos and find my calm. Around me, everything falls apart. Flint clutches the mast as if his life depends on it. Gunner mans the thrashing sail along with a few crew members I don’t recognize. Ky runs to and fro, barking orders, assisting where he’s needed. Charley is perched on the lookout while the remainder of the Iron Lass crew pours buckets upon buckets of water back into the ocean. Isaach, of course, is still passed out, water sloshing over his gut and up his kilt.
It’s madness. Here. There.
Everywhere.
Countess Ambrose’s final warning buoys in my memory. “The deeper into the Reflections you venture, the more opposition you will face. I have heard rumors of those who worship the Void.”
“Like the Soulless?” I asked.
She gave a solemn shake of her head. “Soulless have no free will. No minds of their own. The ones I refer to are known as Shadowalkers. They revere the darkness. Bow to it.”
Ky bristled at her words.
I shuddered. Who would have thought such people existed?