“Yeah.”
I stepped away from Isaak, my shoulders shaking. I could hear it, now—the raindrops falling into the slow-moving creek, making tiny splashes. The air smelled wonderful, like cool, damp earth. I couldn’t take it. I could feel water streaming down my cheeks, not just from the rain. It was like the opening of the clouds cut me open, and now the tears wouldn’t stop coming.
“Nadin, what’s wrong?” Isaak said.
I swallowed, trying to find my voice. “It’s too much. How is this real? How can this be…” I trailed off, looking up at the dark clouds, letting the cold raindrops soak my face.
I turned. Isaak had come up behind me, and now my face was level with his shoulders. I couldn’t look up at him. My eyes focused on nothing as I said, “You know, earlier, Gitrin…” I took a shuddering breath, and started over. “I always was afraid of this. How I feel right now. I was afraid of being weak. The geroi never show their emotions. They’re always calm, always poised. Perfect. I thought the reason Gitrin told me I wasn’t ready was because I couldn’t keep myself together. I wasn’t a real leader—I was too angry, or too scared, or too sad. Just volatile. But tonight, Gitrin said”—I sniffled, wiping my face off with the back of my hand—“she told me that wasn’t it at all.”
“There’s nothing wrong with having emotions, Nadin,” she’d said to me, gently squeezing my hand. “It’s natural. The sterile world of the geroi, that’s what’s unnatural. That’s what I wanted you to see. What I was testing you for. If I used the geroi’s own standards, you were ready at your enilikin. But I don’t think you really want to be just like everybody else. You have the potential to be a great leader, to really help Iamos. Our people deserve for you to live up to your full potential.”
My eyes stung with fresh tears. “But I don’t feel like a leader, Isaak. Especially now.” I ran a hand through my damp hair, looking down at the ground. “All I feel is scared.”
Isaak put his hand on my shoulder. I froze, then finally dared to look up at him. His mouth was pulled up into a crooked smile, one that made my heart beat inexplicably off-kilter. “Come on, Nadin,” he said, gently brushing my shoulder with his thumb. “You’re putting too much pressure on yourself again. Stop worrying so much about what might happen. Just take it one day at a time.” He grinned at my expression and swiped at my cheek playfully. “Besides, you don’t have to do any of this by yourself. You’ve got Gitrin, and Eos and Marin. Everyone in Elytherios. And…” He hesitated, then said, so quietly I could barely hear him, “And me.”
Those two words somehow managed to make my heart soar and break, all at once. Because he was here, now. But he didn’t belong here. He had to go back to his own world someday. And he knew it. I could hear it in his voice, in the unspoken words at the end of his sentence. I had him—for now.
And it occurred to me, for the very first time, that losing Isaak would kill me as much as losing Ceilos.
I reached up, my fingers brushing his chest, hooking around the folds of his shirt like an anchor. He looked startled, but he didn’t pull back. Instead he smiled and pulled me close to him, arms wrapped around my waist in an embrace.
My pulse staggered, and for a panicked moment I was afraid he was going to try to put his mouth on mine the way Ceilos had. But he didn’t. He just held me, until my heartbeat steadied, and my tense muscles relaxed, and my fears evaporated one by one, leaving nothing but calm. Safety. I breathed in the smell of him, warm and familiar, and for once in my life, I didn’t worry about anything. I didn’t think of what could be, what was coming. There was only here and now: Elytherios, and the rain, and Isaak.
I never wanted it to end.
“Isaak,” I said. My voice came out muffled against his shirt, and I felt his chest vibrate as he laughed. Grinning, I leaned back, looking up at his face. “I know—”
“Nadin.”
Isaak jumped, dropping his arms from around me and stepping back. The air felt suddenly cold without his warm presence filling it.
Gitrin stood at the edge of the clearing, holding a lantern. Her expression was unreadable in its flickering amber glow. A second, taller figure stood beside her, but I couldn’t make out his face.
“There’s someone here,” Gitrin said. “To see you.”
I peered through the shadows, and the figure stepped into the light.
Ceilos.
The door to the guesthouse banged open more loudly than I intended it to—my face was still burning, my mind racing with what had just happened, so I wasn’t paying attention. It didn’t really matter, though. There was only one other occupant in the guesthouse just now, and I didn’t really care if I inconvenienced him.
My dad was lying on his side in his bed, and he rolled over to look at me as I came in. I shut the door more gently and looked around before deciding to flop onto the bed furthest from him as possible. I reached down to pull off my shoes—slick boots made of an unfamiliar material that Nadin had brought me in the hospital—and tossed the first one in a heap on the floor.
“What's eating you, kid?” Dad said, sitting up and watching me intently. He acted like nothing was wrong—like I had no reason to be mad at him.
“It’s nothing,” I muttered.
“Heh, are you sore about that Ceilos guy showing up and ruining things for you with the alien girl?”
I froze, my right boot halfway off my foot. “How do you know about Ceilos?”
Dad grinned, looking obnoxiously pleased with himself. He rose from the bed and strolled over, stopping directly in front of me. “Well, I figured that was his name when you all kept saying it over and over.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I said, my voice unreadable even to me. “Were you… were you spying on me?” I thought about the way I’d turned tail and fled the minute Gitrin turned up with Ceilos, and my face got hot. That was the last conversation I wanted my dad eavesdropping on.
The grin faded off Dad’s face. “I wouldn’t call it spying, necessarily. Oh, come on, Isaak, don’t look at me that way.” He sat on the foot of the bed next to me, putting a hand on my knee. “After what happened earlier… I wasn’t sure if you were going to come back here at all. I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to see you again. And…” He trailed off, then said in a small voice, “I didn’t want that, Isaak. So I just was looking for you. That’s all.”
Guilt crept up from the pit of my stomach. Maybe I was being too hard on him. He didn’t know what we’d all gone through over the last two years. Maybe… maybe he really was trying, and I needed to give him a chance.
“It’s okay, Dad,” I said, smiling tightly.
He smiled back, ruffling my hair like he used to when I was little. Then he said, “So, does this mean you’re not slobbering over Tamara anymore? Or are you just sowing some wild oats?”
I groaned, my shoulders slumping. “Dad, don't be gross.”
“Ah, come on, niño. You’re not still on about that oddball demigod thing, are you?”
“Demisexual, Dad,” I corrected him through gritted teeth. “And it’s not an ‘oddball’ thing, thanks so much. It’s normal. Lots of people feel this way.”
Dad rolled his eyes. “Right. And that’s why you have to make up a weird, complicated name for it.”
I jumped to my feet, pushing away from him. “It’s not weird, and I didn’t make it up! I’ve told you a million times. It’s completely simple: I just don’t feel sexual attraction that much. Not unless there’s a bond first. That’s all there is to it.”
He gave me a look that said he still didn’t believe me. I knew what he was thinking—there was no such thing as a guy who didn’t want to bang everything in sight. But it was the truth, and I was getting really sick of having this argument.
“Here we torquing go again, Dad!” I snapped. “I haven’t seen you for two annums, and already you’re on my back. Can you go for even five minutes without harping on me? Is it really any of your business what I do with my life, how I handle my relationships?�
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“Of course it’s my business,” Dad snapped. “You’re my son.”
“Really? Because it sure hasn’t felt that way in a long time. The last time I saw you was before my fifteenth birthday. You haven’t been there for me while I was growing up, what makes you think you get a say now?”
“That’s not fair, Isaak. I didn’t leave you on purpose.”
“Are you sure? Because I saw what you left in that box in the garden. Where’s your wedding ring, Dad?”
He blinked at me, then glanced down at his left hand. But he didn’t say anything.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought. Maybe you weren’t planning on coming to Iamos. But you were still going to leave all the same.”
“I wouldn’t have abandoned you, Isaak,” he said softly. “I would have kept in touch with you.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.” He stared at me for a long moment, then sighed. “Look. Things weren’t working out with me and your mom. Everyone knew it. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you and Celeste.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” I said, turning my back on him and looking up at the green, leafy roof of the guesthouse. “Look, forget it. There’s nothing going on between me and Nadin. She’s engaged to Ceilos, and she’s my friend. That’s all there is to it. So let’s just drop it and get some sleep.”
Dad nodded, getting up to move back to his own bed. When he was safely out of my space, I moved back, sitting down on my bed and trying to fight off the scowl that was still pulling at the corners of my mouth. I wish I’d never come out to him to begin with, back in ninth grade. Everyone else in my life—Mom, Abuelo and Abuela, even Henry—had been totally stellar about it. Everyone except Dad. He just couldn’t comprehend a life that didn’t one hundred percent completely and totally revolve around sex. He’d been all over me about Tamara before he disappeared, and I could just tell that he wasn’t going to let this Nadin thing go, either.
Still, I couldn’t get it out of my mind—that spark when she put her hands on my chest like that. I ran my hand over the soft woven coverlet thoughtfully. I’d never felt like that before—except with one other person.
This was ridiculous. Nadin was my friend.
But Tamara had been my friend, too. That’s how it always worked for me. Normally I didn’t even think about it, but at times like this it felt like a torquing curse.
“Hey, Isaak,” Dad said suddenly from across the room. I looked over at him warily, dreading what he was going to say now.
But I didn’t get a chance to find out. Just then, the door to the guesthouse swung open, and Eos entered, carrying a lantern.
“Sorry to disturb you,” he said. “We just found out that we’ve got a few new refugees joining us tonight, so they’ll be staying here with you and your father.” He ushered in two people, a man and a woman, who looked strangely familiar to me. It took me a moment before I recognized them—the couple who had been playing ulama in the plaza last week.
“This is Corin,” Eos said, gesturing to the woman, “and Gios.”
I grinned. “I saw you two before, in Hope Renewed. How did you get away from the Enforcers?”
“One of our best runners was with them. We weren’t about to abandon them,” said Eos. “And we’ve developed… certain techniques over the years. Enforcers usually can’t hold our people for long.”
“It’s easy to trick a mind that’s reliant on the System?” I said. Eos tugged his earlobe.
Dad broke in, “Mind telling me what’s going on here?” He was glaring at Gios and Corin, who stared back at him in confusion. I rolled my eyes, and was about to start translating when Eos cleared his throat.
“There’s one other thing, Isaak.”
My eyebrow arched, and Eos pushed the door open wider—revealing a man with a shock of white hair and a crooked, hawkish nose standing just behind him.
“I think we’re going to need your help again.”
“Ceilos,” I said once Isaak and Gitrin had gone. My breath hitched in my throat. “I don’t understand… what are you doing here?”
He turned his hands out. “I’d like to know that myself.” He came closer to me, and I could see through the shadows that his face looked haggard. I thought I could see the fading remnants of a bruise along the edge of his jawline.
My hands curled into fists. “Who did this to you?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see much of him. He kept me blindfolded.”
“The man who called himself the Liberator?”
Ceilos tugged his earlobe. “After what”—he swallowed, looking away from me—“happened in the classroom, I couldn’t think straight. So I went out for a walk. Through the caverns at first, then finally up into the dome.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “He was waiting for me. I didn’t even see him coming. I wasn’t… paying very much attention.”
My fingernails dug into the soft flesh of my palm. I had caused this. What had happened to Ceilos really was all my fault.
“When I woke up, I didn’t know where I was. But I could hear his voice. The Liberator. I didn’t see his face, but I will never forget that voice.” He shuddered. “I had no way of knowing how much time had passed. I didn’t know what he wanted from me. He just taunted me, relentlessly. About what he’d done to Clodin, about what he was planning to do to the geroi—about you.”
I reached over to put my hand on his shoulder, but I hesitated. The memories from last week still burned painfully inside me. And knowing that what had happened to Ceilos was all because of that…
“Finally he took me outside somewhere. Said I wasn’t of any use to him anymore. I didn’t know where we were, but it was freezing cold, and there was no air. Like you said it was outside the dome. Being out there, unable to breathe—I understand now. It’s the most terrifying feeling in the world. I thought I was going to die. But the next thing I knew, I was waking up here in Elytherios. That woman from the citidome—the one who was smuggling Ferre—she found me on the mountainside and brought me here.” He laughed humorlessly. “She of all people.”
“Ceilos,” I said, my voice shaking. “I am so, so sorry.”
He looked at me sidelong. “I… heard what he commed you. The gerotus session.”
“The geroi are gamadas,” I spat.
Ceilos chuckled. “I’ve said that all along. I told you there was no love lost between me and my parents.” He sobered. “It just took a threat to Isaak to make you see it.”
I stared at him. “What are you talking about?”
“I saw what was happening just now.”
My face flushed. “Nothing was happening just now, Ceilos. Isaak was just trying to comfort me because I was upset—about you. I’ve been frantic to find you. That’s why we came here.”
He didn’t look at me. He kept his eyes riveted on the burbling creek. I followed his gaze, just catching the silver glint of a psara tail plinking through the water. “So Isaak can comfort you when your partner cannot?”
“Isaak didn’t touch me in a way I didn’t want to be touched,” I snapped before I could stop myself. I didn’t want to be angry with him, not when I’d finally found him—not now that he was safe. But he was making it impossible. I hadn’t done anything wrong, and still he didn’t trust me.
Ceilos turned to me, his eyes fixed on mine. They looked so hurt. Guilt washed over me, and I started to open my mouth to apologize, but the words died on my tongue. I didn’t want to apologize. All I’d done was tell the truth.
Finally, Ceilos was the one to say, “I’m sorry, Nadin. Listen, let’s not fight, all right? We’re together again. That’s all that matters.”
He reached his hand out to me. I stared at it for a long moment before slowly moving to take it. His fingers were warm in mine. He smiled at me, and, reluctantly, my own lips turned up as well. “Yes,” I said. “That’s all that matters. I’m so relieved that you’re safe.”
He pulled me close to him, and
I automatically put my arms around his waist. The rain trickled down around us, cool and fresh, and I tried as hard as I could to ignore the hollow feeling growing in my chest.
“Emil,” I stammered, looking back and forth between him and Eos so fast I thought my neck might snap. “What the hell? What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you,” he said matter-of-factly. He glanced past me at Dad, who had jumped out of bed and was staring at Emil like he’d seen a ghost. “And you.”
“You know him, too, Isaak?” Eos asked.
I blinked at him for a minute, my brain—still feeling like it was short-circuiting after the sudden appearance of Emil—trying to process jumping back and forth between English and Iamoan so rapidly. “Yes,” I finally said. “He’s… I know him.”
Emil fixed one of his piercing black eyes on me. “You speak their language?” When I nodded, he said, “Tell them I say thanks for the lift.”
I translated this to Eos. Then I asked, “Where was he?”
“The same place we found your father, and where Nadin says she found you—in the hills outside Hope Renewed. But this one was prepared. He was carrying an oxygen tank.”
I laughed. Of course he torquing was. Emil was nothing if not thorough. He’d obviously thought this through much more than my dad—or I—had.
“How many more visitors from your world should we be expecting, Isaak?” Eos asked wryly.
“I don’t know,” I said, frowning at Emil. He looked like he was itching to jump into the conversation. Knowing him, he’d probably start taking notes the second someone got a pen into his hands. “I’ll let you know if I find out.”
“Very well,” Eos said. “I’ll leave you to get reacquainted, then, while I get the others settled.” He started to guide Corin and Gios to the second row of beds, then paused, glancing at me. “There’s something else, too. Have you seen Gitrin tonight?”
“Yeah,” I said. I started to nod, then thought better of it and pulled on my earlobe instead. “I know about Ceilos.”
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