Epilogue

by Etzoli

  “What’s the best place to get sylvandine in the Saenvalands?”

  “Is that a Sylf thing?”

  Yes! I’d caught him in a lie. “You know about Sylves. You’ve been lying this whole time.”

  “Man, you mentioned them earlier!” he protested.

  “Wrong!” I cried. I pulled out my phone, shoving it eagerly in front of his eyes. “Not once.” I scrolled through every message we’d sent, one by one. “I’ve never used Sylf, not one time. I only called them elves. Where did you hear that term?”

  “You said it yourself!” Whitman shouted. “Like an hour ago!”

  “Stop lying to me, Daniel.” I walked around and crouched down in front of him. Some vulnerability now, since I’d caught him in a lie. I would play off this anxiety, this fear, and offer him a way out. A friendly gesture. “Just get it over with. Tell me what I need to know.”

  “Holy shit, you’re young.” I suddenly realized I hadn’t actually shown myself until now. Was that my intention? Did I just make a mistake?

  No, of course not. I was an expert at this. I didn’t make mistakes.

  “I can be a friend, Daniel. You remember Cyraveil. You remember what sort of place it is. Tell me you wouldn’t want to go back there.”

  “You’re fucking insane.” Daniel resumed trying to rock his chair back and forth, but it was surprisingly sturdy, and I’d reinforced the sides a bit too. He didn’t move more than an inch.

  “Once you tell me, I disappear, and your life goes back to whatever you want it to be. This doesn’t have to be hard.”

  “I told you already, I made all that shit up. I was bored, and it was better than just trolling some random image board.” One particularly hard shove, and he began to tilt off to one side. I reached out and caught him, righting him before the chair started to tip over completely.

  He couldn’t be lying. I needed the truth. I needed my way back.

  “You weren’t lying. Tell me how to go back.”

  “I don’t fucking know!”

  I slapped him across the face. Hard.

  “Answer me!”

  “I don’t know!” he cried. Tears were forming in his eyes. I felt awful, sick to my core. I didn’t want this, any of it, but I’d burned every bridge. I knew I couldn’t continue on living like this. I couldn’t face my parents again, I couldn’t face my friends. I certainly couldn’t face Jen again. Not without a way back. I had to keep going.

  My foot slammed into his chest. The chair tilted over backward. With a sickening thud, his head smacked into the floor. My heart was racing.

  Instantly, I was at his side, checking for bleeding. Thankfully, my hand came back dry. What was I thinking? Why did I actually attack him? He groaned underneath me, his feet still tied to the legs of the chair.

  “Please, let me go,” he moaned. “I won’t tell anyone. Promise.”

  I couldn’t believe that. He’d seen my face. There was no reason for him not to tell the police, tell anyone who I was and what I’d done. They’d lock me up. They’d put me in a mental ward. I had to leave this world, tonight .

  “You know what I want,” I said slowly. I hated myself.

  I hated everything about this.

  It had to be done.

  “I don’t know what you want. I’m sorry. Fuck.” He’d tried to reach up to cradle his own skull, no doubt throbbing in pain, and the plastic cuffs scraped hard against his wrist.

  “Just tell me how to go back.”

  “So go back, you fucking psycho!” he screamed at me. His eyes flew open wide. “Go back!”

  “Tell me how!” I roared. “Quid pro fucking quo, Daniel!”

  I was losing control. Worst of all, I could feel myself losing control. It was like I was watching myself on video, as another me took charge of my body. This new me stood up, and his foot dropped onto Whitman’s chest with a thud.

  What if he really knows nothing? the old, reluctant me cried out.

  He has to know! this new, vicious me snarled in response.

  I watched as my body began to beat Daniel Whitman savagely, and I felt helpless to stop. He tried to roll away, but the restraints kept him anchored to the spot.

  I saw blood. Why? Why couldn’t I stop?

  A banging sound. Raised voices.

  Was I imagining them? Whitman hadn’t yet answered me. I had to keep going.

  Had to keep going.

  Had to force him to answer me.

  It was best for everyone. Once he told me the truth, I could return home, and be gone from this world. No more trouble to anyone. A quickly fading memory.

  My foot swung for his face. He twisted away, trying to avoid the blow, which I’d telegraphed too much. It never landed.

  I was tackled to the floor. A man in a plain suit, with a rough face and beady eyes.

  I knew this man, didn’t I?

  He was shouting something, but I couldn’t hear him. My mind was still transfixed by the sight of Daniel Whitman, battered and bruised, bleeding all over the floor. My eyes were pulled wide, as if a sheet of fog had suddenly lifted away. I saw him moaning, saw his beaten face and terrified expression.

  As I was dragged to my feet, handcuffed and restrained, I remembered—I had mentioned Sylves to him. It sprung to my mind as I was manhandled out the front door. I’d screwed up. Whitman was just an innocent bystander, whom I’d brutally assaulted out of some insane fixation on an impossible quest. Blake would hate me if he saw what I’d become. What I’d just done.

  “I’m sorry,” I cried out. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I needed Whitman to hear me. I wanted to give him something, anything to show I regretted what I’d done. That he hadn’t deserved it. What I’d done was unforgivable, and he’d paid the price.

  ***

  I barely heard a single word from the uniformed officers.

  The back of the cruiser was hard plastic, with a small space for my handcuffed wrists. They transported me through the dead of night, with the rain coming down hard and creating sheets of distorted light as we passed through the empty streets. I watched each flash of color as we rolled along, felt every bump in the road as shockwaves through my throbbing skull. My head was pounding, reliving every moment of what had just happened over and over again, searching desperately for answers on how I’d sunk so low.

  I’d known it was coming all along, though. At some distant corner of my mind, I’d known I wasn’t long for this world one way or another. Either I’d manage to escape, or I’d burn out trying. I could never coexist with these people, knowing what I knew, seeing what I’d seen. In the last few days, at some point I’d just given up hope on ever living here again. I’d always assumed my life would end soon. I had just hoped it wouldn’t be like this.

  Never like this.

  We reached the station, and I was processed. My body felt numb to the touch. I could barely comprehend the situation unfolding around me, even as they tried to explain a half-dozen times. I think they assumed I was insane, the way they were handling me so gently. Maybe I was insane. I couldn’t exactly disagree. I was surrounded by tall, faceless shapes in vaguely defined uniforms, with deep booming voices that only allowed every third word or so to be understood. I had to string together sentences from the scant clues context could afford me.

  I was taken to a smaller room, completely isolated, and given a cup of water. They left me alone. At first, I assumed they’d gone to fetch a parent or guardian, but then I remembered: I wasn’t a minor anymore. They could do whatever the hell they liked with me.

  There was no doubt I was being watched. I tried to find the camera, but all I could see were thick stone walls, rising up as the first of no doubt endless cells I’d be thrown in. Ah, Reynir. I’ll be doing your family proud. I’d end up in a cell just like his great-grandfather—but unlike the Cellman patriarch, I doubted I’d be breaking out any time soon, much less conquering a whole kingdom as I went. Not much to conquer out here in the middle of suburbia, Oregon.

  A man ca
me back into the room, wearing a plain suit. Perhaps they were afraid to leave me alone for too long. I couldn’t blame them. He looked kind enough, but I was in no mood for games. I didn’t acknowledge him at all. My eyes were fixed on the upper corner of the room, unmoving. I had a vague sense that talking to the police would only make things worse for me in the long term. I didn’t see how much worse things could get, but for now at least, I was determined to remain silent.

  I heard him droning on, but I stayed resolute. I wouldn’t be broken again. I’d hold out.

  So, of course, he played a trump card.

  “…recommend you be committed.”

  How could he have known? My deepest fear, and he struck right at it, sending the whole of my being into cold shivers. I felt like my body had seized up just as the words, much less the terrifying images that accompanied them to my mind. I snapped back into focus, and looked him straight in the eye.

  “Can I make a phone call?”

  “Well, we’ve already attempted your father, and his listed legal counsel. Until we can make contact, unless you have another form of legal counsel—”

  “No.”

  “Then I suggest you keep silent, kid.” He looked sympathetic. I didn’t need sympathy though, I needed my exit. I needed to make sure I did not end up in that hellish place.

  I needed someone to vouch for me. Vouch for my story. Make me credible.

  I needed someone nobody would ever doubt.

  I’d get him here. I’d use this cop’s sympathy to my advantage. No matter what it took, he’d come and he’d find a way out of this mess. Like he always did.

  Matt would know what to do.

  Chapter 18 — Jen

  “Look, what harm could it do? The kid’s a mess.”

  “You saw what he did to Whitman.”

  “He’s desperate, and things will go a lot smoother if we can get him to start talking. Anything we can get on record.”

  “I’ll get him to-”

  “Let him call his friend.”

  “Sir?”

  “A friendly face might do him some good.”

  “This is starting to sound like a broken record.”

  “Who’s in charge again?”

  “Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”

  “I saw that.”

  Dear Mom,

  Matt and I had to leave. We’re not running away from home, so don’t worry about that. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re the best. But… something’s come up and we have to go. We might not ever come back.

  I wish I could tell you it’s nothing dangerous, but it might be. Just trust me, okay? This is something really, really important. I want to tell you, but I

  “ Masasak nara volavus sel nara kelendil, ” I cursed under my breath. I wanted to comfort her, not send her into a blind panic.

  “What’s up?” asked Sara, leaning over my shoulder. I tried to crumple up the letter, but she laid out a hand to stop me. “Jeez, your handwriting has gotten awful.”

  In response, I flipped the sheet over and wrote out a long, elegant string of Etoline—something very rude I’m not gonna repeat here.

  “I’m just going to assume that’s an insult.” She frowned. “What are you trying to write?”

  “…A goodbye,” I said quietly.

  Sara hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at the stairs. Mom still wasn’t home, and wouldn’t be for a few hours at least. “Aren’t you going to talk to her in person?”

  I sighed and leaned back in my chair. “I don’t know.”

  “Huh?”

  I glanced at the clock, which put us well past midnight. Mom still wouldn’t be home though. Last call for drinks wasn’t until 2:30 in the morning, and she had to stay after a bit to close up. I used to try and stay up late waiting for her to come home, but I rarely made it that far. I’d wake up the next morning with my alarm ringing in my ear, or sometimes with the sunrise, having magically transported back into my bed, nice and snug. On the very few occasions I’d actually seen her, she always greeted me with a warm hug—and then grounded me for staying up so late.

  “I have a feeling I’m never gonna see her again.”

  “Because of what Matt said?” she asked. “About us needing to leave soon?”

  I shook my head. “I think we’re gonna get rushed out of here. That phone call was super weird.”

  Sara nodded, just as puzzled as I was. Matt had gotten a phone call about half an hour earlier. They called the house, he picked up, and five minutes later he was in his truck. He’d promised to be home soon and asked us to start packing. I had no idea why he’d said that. It wasn’t like we could take anything with us. Probably just instinctive.

  I shivered as the pieces clicked together in my mind, one by one, slowly uncovering the puzzle. There was another reason that I felt like I wouldn’t see my mother ever again, one I didn’t want to think about, and I was afraid to speak it aloud. But this was Sara. I needed to say something before it was too late. “That’s not everything, though.”

  “Are you afraid to talk to her?”

  “… Seka nara vack are you so smart all the time?” I asked incredulously.

  “Jen, it’s okay,” she said, obviously trying to be comforting. I only felt worse, like I was hiding from my problems again.

  “I feel like I’m running away,” I said, echoing myself. “Like maybe I’m just giving up too easily. I’m afraid she’ll talk me out of going. Does that make sense? Am I making sense?”

  “Yes, it makes sense.” Sara shivered too, and it made me feel infinitely better about myself, that she wasn’t exactly comfortable with this either. “I feel exactly the same.”

  “You do?”

  “I just ran away from home,” she added, wincing. “I’m going to disappear from the whole world just to get away from my problems. I still think it’s the right idea, but I’ll be worried about it right up until we step across.”

  “Well, it’s not really a step—”

  She coughed. “Not the point, Jen.”

  I glanced over at her. She was sitting cross-legged on my bed, my stupid frilly bed with a mismatched dinosaur blanket on top, picked more for warmth than because I liked the design. At least it was comfortable. More on topic, Sara’s eyes were fierce, her expression set and determined.

  “I’m never going to know if this is the right thing to do,” she went on.” All I know is that something has to change. I’ve got an opportunity no one’s ever had, and I get to share it with my best friend in the whole world. It’s not an adventure. I just get to start over. All the good and the bad, but I’m gonna take it.” As she spoke, the confidence in her voice grew word by word. By the end, I was convinced.

  “I’m glad you’re coming with me,” I said, and her face lit up like the sun had suddenly popped into my room.

  “You’ll have to teach me more Etoline,” she added with a small smile. “I can’t wait to meet Naeflin.”

  “You two are gonna get along great,” I said, feeling so much more cheerful and at ease than a few moments earlier. “Oh, there’s so much I can’t wait to show you. And my suunsyl . It’s so gorgeous there.”

  Sara just smiled as I began to describe it in excessive detail. It really is a pretty amazing place, but I won’t bore you with the details. Honestly, it’s actually not all that different from most other forests—though the trees are older and much larger, and then there’s the homes we build into the upper levels below the canopy, and the magically lit fields for crops to provide food when hunting is scarce. Okay, so it’s pretty different, but none of that mattered compared to seeing my best friend’s reactions to it. She was just so excited and optimistic, and she took in every detail like water to a parched woman in the desert.

  Meanwhile, I just felt accepted. Unlike the first time I’d told her about all this, where our conversation was always teetering right on the edge of regret and loss and pain, I could actually speak openly. Passionately. I wasn’t just telling her memories and dancing a
round the issues; instead, I gave her visions of things to come. New experiences she’d get to share in. I was giving her hope, and in return, filling myself up with the same. The world felt just a little bit brighter with every single thing I remembered.

  We could have talked for hours, I’m sure, but responsibility came back around and knocked me upside the head. I’d been telling her about how we sent letters between different suunsyls (carefully bred and magically trained flying squirrels, no joke) and the crumpled note behind me on my desk popped back into my mind. I trailed off as I slowly spun around, picking it back up.

  “…Do you still want to write her a letter?” Sara asked.

  “I have to,” I said quietly. “She’s my mom. I can’t just disappear. Even if I say goodbye in person, she deserves more of an explanation than that.”

  “What will you say?”

  I shook my head. “I still don’t know.”

  She sighed. “Sorry I can’t be more help.”

  “It’s okay.” I leaned over and pulled out a new sheet of paper from the drawer, and set my pen to it once again. Behind me, I heard Sara attempt to stifle a yawn. I don’t know why—maybe it was exhaustion, or just the image in my head of a ridiculously oversized yawn swallowing up her face—but I giggled. I couldn’t help it, and it quickly turned into a full-on laugh.

  “What?” she asked, indignant.

  “Nothing,” I choked out. I forced myself to calm down. “Sorry. You should take a nap.”

  “But I—”

  “I promise I won’t leave without you,” I said, smirking. “Besides, someone should probably get some sleep. Matt and I definitely won’t.”

  “Okay,” she said, just as another yawn overtook her. “You don’t mind if I use—”

  “How many times have I slept in your bed?” I glanced over my shoulder with an exaggerated eyebrow raise, as high as I could get it.

  “Fair point.” She grinned, and pulled up the nearest blanket. “Wake me up if anything happens?”

  “Duh.”

  Within minutes, I heard her breathing steady, and I knew she was already falling deep into some crazy dream. Sara was a really heavy sleeper. I could never get her to wake up with just sound, no matter how loud it got. She’d only wake up if I shook the bed, or tapped her on the face or something.