Storybound

by Emily Mckay

  I don’t feel the nausea or dizziness I felt crossing from my world into theirs, but suddenly, I feel the absence of something. Like when you yawn after a flight and the pressure equalizes in your eardrums.

  The air is crisp and cool and oddly flat. Free of the magical pulse I felt in the Kingdoms of Mithres.

  I crouch down beside Lucy. Her eyes are closed, her lips pressed together, still trembling. She looks as bad as I felt when I first crossed over. After a minute or so, she seems to get her legs under her, and she opens her eyes to look around.

  Lucy says nothing, but stares, wide-eyed, at the buildings, so different from the ones in her world.

  “We’re going to be okay,” I tell her. “I’m going to take care of you. And we’re going to find the lost Oidrhe together. And when we do, then we can go back to the Kingdoms of Mithres together.”

  She just presses her lips in a line and nods. But I can see that the idea calms her down. Giving her a purpose has given her strength.

  I don’t even dare take my phone out of airplane mode in case my mother is tracking its location. Thankfully, the buses still run on a Sunday morning. One of them gets us across the interstate to the neighborhood where the Bufords live. Lucy and I have to walk the last mile or so, but neither of us seems to mind. It’s nearly seven a.m. when I let Lucy into the apartment I share with Mom.

  Somehow, it seems even smaller than it did when I left.

  Lucy, who is beyond exhausted, falls asleep almost as soon as she lies down on my bed. I tuck blankets around her and then return to the living room. I forage around for a snack, grabbing an apple and a jar of peanut butter, as well as a drink, before settling in on the sofa to wait for my mother to come home. Only then do I pull out my phone and take it out of airplane mode. The battery is at 5 percent, so I plug it in as I wait for my mother’s texts to pour in.

  As I suspected, there are a ton of them.

  I’m trying not to helicopter, but your phone seems to be off. Check in when you turn it back on, okay?

  OK?

  I know I said you could ignore my texts, but it’d be great if you could just check in quickly.

  Edie, this isn’t like you. Check in. Pls.

  Why aren’t you answering your phone?

  Answer. Right now.

  Are you even getting these?

  You’re not even showing up on the Find iPhone app.

  Where are you?

  The most recent one floods me with relief.

  Boarding the plane now. I’ll be home by 11:30. You better be there.

  So as of this morning at seven thirty, Smyth hadn’t found her.

  For now, she is safe.

  I quickly text her back so that she’ll have a message when she gets off the plane.

  Sorry, phone was off all weekend. Long story. Will tell you when you get here.

  Of course, now that I am back in Austin, I can no longer ignore that other possibility—the possibility that none of this really happened at all. I look down at myself. All of my wounds have been healed. I have no physical evidence on my body of anything that happened…other than slightly thicker hair. My clothes are clean. My Hello, Cupcake T-shirt is a couple inches shorter, but otherwise the same. Those missing two inches of fabric are the only tangible proof I have that what happened wasn’t all in my mind.

  You would think that having Lucy with me would be reassuring. Except…she is invisible. And having an invisible friend has never been a sign of mental stability.

  The truth is, I’m not sure exactly what I’ve accomplished. I have way more questions than answers. Kane now knows enough to avoid the assassin in Saint Lew. But as long as Smyth is around, he’s still in danger. Have I saved his life, or merely postponed his death?

  For now, I will have to wait for answers. I will have to find my way back to his world at some point. But first, I have to wait until my mother comes home.

  I need answers from her.

  I need to know if she really is a Sleeker, what her relationship with Smyth really is, and why she hid the truth from me for so long.

  Of course, that’s assuming she gets home to me before Smyth gets to her. I wish there was some way to warn her. For now, all I can do is send a text. One she most likely won’t even see until she gets off the plane.

  But what do I say?

  There is no short and easy way to ask these questions. In the end, I merely write:

  Can’t wait to see you. Be careful.

  Then, I curl up on the sofa and let my eyes close, relishing the secret Kane whispered to me right before he kissed me.

  He told me his binding name. When I’m ready, I know how to summon him. I don’t know yet when I’ll use it. Maybe after I find the lost Oidrhe. Maybe sooner. But before that, I need to rest.

  The last thing I think about before I fall asleep is what Morgan said to me.

  No one knows how this story is going to end.

  Not even me.

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  Acknowledgments

  No book is easy to write, but some are harder than others. Some are a trip down a familiar path, where you can’t always see the way ahead, but you know in your heart the ground is beneath your feet and there’s just enough light ahead you know you’ll make it out the other side. Other’s are like running uphill, through the brambles, trees snagging your clothes, hellhounds snapping your heels, until you finally break through only to realize you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff. There’s no way back. You can only leap and pray you sprout wings.

  That was this book for me.

  My wings were made up of a lot of people. So sorry, but these acknowledgements are long. That’s just the way it goes when it takes seven years from story conception to book delivery.

  In (roughly) the order that you stepped in to help out in one way or the other.

  Tracy—you were there there moment this story was born. I was having just the worst day and locked you out of our hotel and probably traumatized you forever. It was the moment in my life when I most wanted to escape to another world. If our friendship can survive that, it can survive anything.

  Robyn—you’re my partner in crime, my oldest writing friend, and the person who introduced me to Jim Butcher’s Harry Dresden books. I love my husband, but if I could cross over into another world and find Harry, we might have a problem.

  Skyler, Karen, & Jax—I can’t thank you guys enough. From the initial brainstorming, to the fabulous beta reading, to the encouragement and friendship. I am so damn lucky to have you guys!

  Madeline—I trusted you with one of the earliest drafts of this book. It was total crap at the time. I bet you gave up reading forever after that. But thank you! And I hope you’ll give this story another try now that it’s less crappy.

  Brandi—honey, I adore you. You also saw this when it was pure crap. You offered so many great ideas and totally changed the direction of the book. You’re amazing!

  Sherry—I don’t even know if you remember this, but you gave me some blunt feedback when I really needed it. And you also sent me an amazing letter when I was down and didn’t even know that I needed the lift. Thank you.

  Shellee—you are always there to give me a swift kick in the ass when I need it. Plus, I love that sometimes I get to see what a marshmallow you are on the inside.

  Dr. Hsieh—when I was struggling and thinking about giving up writing forever, you told me exactly what I needed to hear. Thank you!

  Avyu—through sheer kismet, you needed a ride on day when I needed some brainstorming. Your ideas were awesome.

  Daven—thanks for reading this book and telling me that it was indeed something teenagers w
ould want to read, but it was a bit long. It’s shorter now, so hopefully that helps.

  Misty—I love that you love this book so much. I feel like you really get it and that’s amazing!

  Brenda—I am so lucky to get to work with you again!!! I love that you were able to share my vision and guide me and make the book the book is always wanted to be.

  Stacy, Liz, Bree, Nancy, Curtis, Heather, and anyone else at Entangled that I haven’t yet met but helped with the book—thank you so much for helping to make the book of my heart a book I can hold in my hands.

  About the Author

  Emily McKay writes the kinds of books she wants to read—fast-paced with snarky heroines and swoony heroes who inhabit fascinating worlds you want to get lost in. She loves stories, pop culture, celebrity gossip, and baked goods. She’s a modern-day hippie and certified LEGO nerd.

  Emily lives in the Texas Hill Country with her geeky husband and their two extremely geeky kids. They have dogs, chickens, cats, and more LEGOs than should be allowed by law. Oh, and she stress bakes. So if her characters talk about food a lot, that’s why.

  emilymckay.com

  Ready for your next epic adventure?

  A.K. Wilder

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  I didn’t even want to go to the party.

  Seriously, I’d rather have stayed home with my librarian-witch grandmother and her mystical book club than go. But my best friend Skyler begged me. So I went.

  And it was the worst party of my life. The last party of my life.

  Not only was the band downright horrible, but the lead singer bit me afterward. And then stole Skyler.

  Now I’m chasing down a band of angry vamps with my other best friend Vaughn in tow—and a buttload of feelings between us we can’t even begin to address. And worse, I’m changing into something else…

  Let the afterlife begin.

  Let’s be friends!

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