by Sara Ella
Go with the flow? Me? Great Scott, you must be joking.
“Funny, Em. Better.”
I hum a little tune, getting ridiculously smiley for maybe the first time in forever. With Joshua things were more serious. We had our moments, but for the most part things were tense—intense? Nerve-racking. With him I felt forever on display, auditioning for a role I desperately wanted but that was way out of my league. And, now I see, maybe never right for me at all.
“And with me?” Ky kisses my hand.
Okay, I really need to work on that whole thought-blocking thing. But for now I respond audibly. “With you . . .” I look up and push out my lips. “With you it’s more, I don’t know . . .” I’m talking with my hands now, trying to get my thoughts out with gestures apparently. Because that helps. “It’s more . . .”
“Awesome?”
Major eye roll. “That’s not what I was going to say.”
“Sure it was. I can read your mind, remember?” He taps his temple.
We go back and forth this way the remainder of the walk, living out exactly what I couldn’t put into words.
With Ky it’s more this.
With Ky it’s more now.
With Ky it’s easier and somehow I forget everyone and everything. No worrying about the Void or the Verity. No planning or anxiety or what’s-going-to-happen-next mentality.
The closer we move to the surface, the less daunting breathing becomes. I inhale through my nose, ready for sunlight at last. Have we only been underground a day? The sweat stains on my clothes and the grime in my hair make it feel longer. I don’t need to lift an arm and sniff to know I’m in desperate want of a shower. My muscles ache and my calves burn. How much farther?
Two seconds later we round a corner and halt before a door. Not circular like in the council chamber. Not a trap like the one Zane led us through. This is plain white. And there, jagging from top to bottom, is a lightning bolt–style crack.
Ky and I exchange glances. Then he reaches forward, turns the knob, and opens the door.
On the opposite side, a decent-sized atrium awaits. Or what used to be an atrium, anyway. The aftereffects of the earthquake send chills up my spine. My jaw goes slack as we wander the wreckage. Crumbled columns. Plants smashed beneath collapsed pieces of roof. The ground is cracked and split, a fountain at the atrium’s center lopsided with its statue of a whatever-it-was facedown in the empty pool. Guardians and citizens work to clean up, a long chain of them passing debris down the line to a growing pile.
“I need to go check something. I’ll be back.” Ky kisses my hand again, then releases it. Crosses to the atrium’s other end where he passes through an archway and out of view.
Pushing my hair away from my face, I join the assembly line. Members of our crew pitch in as well. Ebony and Tide lift a lamppost. Khloe sweeps steps and beats a hanging rug. Gunner and Flint provide their best asset—brawn. They all left the chamber hours ago along with the Reflection reps. But Ky and I? We remained behind to speak with the countess privately. Our conversation plays over in my mind as I’m handed a chunk of rock. Pass it along. Take, pass, take, pass. I stare into space.
“You know what you must do?” The countess gazed through the glass, back toward us, while the man who let us in straightened chairs.
Ky assisted him, the task nothing for him compared to the wheezing little man. “We need to learn more about this woman,” he said. “The first vessel of the Verity. Is there anyone alive who may know her whereabouts?”
“There is one woman.” Face turned toward her shoulder and eyes closed, she spoke in a low voice. “A woman by the name of Dahlia Moon. Isaach told me of her. She resides in the Fifth and may be of some use to you.” She crossed to Ky and pressed a small square of paper into his hand.
He stopped where he stood, pocketing the paper without a peek at its contents. “An Ever?”
“Oof!” The little man, who continued to shuffle about the table, rammed into Ky.
Ky stepped back while the man turned up his nose, adjusted his toga, and scooted out the door.
Weird little fella. Never said a word. Very odd.
Once the door clicked closed, the countess nodded. “An Ever indeed. Hard to find one who’s lived so long. Keeps to herself. Or so I hear.”
I wrinkled my nose. She hears a lot. How do we know she can be trusted?
“Because we’re not dead,” Ky thought.
Touché.
“Hey, earth to butterfly.”
I blink. Look left. Right. The line has dispersed, everyone having gone off to attend to another project.
Charley waves her hand in front of my face. Shakes her head. Hitches a thumb over her shoulder. “We could use you down at Kaide Agi Marketplace. You in?”
Chin lifted I say, “Definitely.”
The next several hours are comprised of picking up the pieces of this Reflection. Sonsosk Palace atrium is just the beginning. The city is in shambles. All caved-in roofs and eroded walkways. Funny, but this is the first time since my coronation I actually feel like a queen. As if I’m doing something worthwhile. The cloudless sky offers no respite, the sun beating down, drawing moisture from my skin. I’m parched. Ready to fall over. But I can’t stop smiling.
This is what being queen is all about. Not endless hours in a stuffy castle with servants waiting on me hand and foot. Ruling is about serving. About community and friendship.
I could get used to this.
When the sunset flourishes the ocean horizon, orange melting into indigo, everyone calls it quits for the day. Most head back toward the city center, where word has spread a huge feast awaits anyone who pitched in. But I’m too peopled out, and I long for a moment of solace. I slip away, down the abandoned streets, picking my way to the beach.
In the distance I can make out the faint echo of dance music, and I almost turn around. But then I cross the island’s main road—marked by a crooked beechwood sign as Tecre Thruway. When my shoes meet sand and the spray of the sea coos its welcome, I transform from anxious to calm. Once I’m positive I’m 100 percent alone, I shift. Shed my clothes. Spread my wings. The freedom feels natural. As if I’ve spent my entire life switching between butterfly and girl.
Flit, flutter, flee. First I glide high above the Fourth—above Atlantis. I haven’t had a chance to study the map in Dimitri’s journal properly yet. Still, I glimpse landmarks my Scrib memory recalls from a glance at that page. The strange, almost unpronounceable names ascribed to everything. The five islands surrounding the main one. The bays spilling into the larger seas to the north and south. The canals running through the cities. I adore New York and the Second is something else, but if I had to choose another Reflection as my favorite? The Fourth would suit me quite nicely. Something is so freeing about a place surrounded by ocean.
Maybe it’s even more like Manhattan than I first realized.
Next I swoop low over the water, my reflection bouncing in the waves. It’s the first chance I’ve had to really observe my Mask form. To take in every curve and color. Strange. Somehow I look like me. My mirrormark is intact, twisting and climbing over my right wing. The edges of my wings are a deep bluish-purple, like the ends of my hair now that my dye has faded.
Part of me wants to remain this way forever. Make the escape permanent. Could I? Would anyone notice my absence?
In the past I wondered as much. Wondered if anyone aside from Mom would miss me if I simply disappeared. But now I know better. I’ve touched others as they have touched me. Not just the expected like Mom or Ky or Joshua, but the unexpected as well. Reggie. Stormy. Makai. Ebony. Khloe. They all care. And I couldn’t leave them behind. I’d never be the same.
My soul swells as I glide back to earth. Donning all my clothing aside from my shoes, I meander along the shore. My toes squish in the damp sand, leaving sunken footprints in my wake. More of those glistening green and gold stones shimmer, washed over with water and foam. I scoop one up and it looks like colored glass. It c
ould almost be . . .
Hold the phone, is this mirrorglass? I examine the stone, holding it up to my eye and inspecting it in the light. Oh my chronicles, it is. But isn’t mirrorglass rare? I whirl. There must be hundreds of stones on this beach, if not more. They cover this Reflection. They’re in the steps. The walls and floors.
I toss the stone into the air, then chuck it across the water. It skip, skip, skips over the surface.
“I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Hey, Ebony.” I don’t jump at her presence or cringe when she stands beside me, feet bare like mine. “Mom taught me. We used to go down to the Hudson when I was little. We’d skip stones and feed the ducks.”
“My mother never did anything like that with me.” The sadness whispered in her words tugs at my core. “We never just had fun, you know?”
I snatch a couple more stones. Hand one over. “Wanna learn?” Maybe there is something I can teach her after all.
Ebony shrugs. “Whatever. The party felt crowded. I’ve got nothing better to do.”
I should be offended. But I’m not. Because this is her best attempt at a compliment. I take it as such and we stay that way awhile. Skipping stones long after stars dot the night sky. Soon it becomes a game, and we keep score of whose stone bounces farthest. We laugh and talk. At first she’s standoffish, but then the wall tumbles. Guess we’re more alike than I thought. She puts up a front. Guards herself until she feels safe enough to let someone in.
I ask about Tide.
“He’s different.” Her lips perk. Eyes crinkle. She’s so much prettier without all that makeup. “He doesn’t take any of my crud. I like that.”
Inquire about Khloe.
“She’s the first person to just accept me, you know?” Another toss. It’s the farthest stone she’s thrown. Go, Eb! “No questions asked. She knows who I am and that’s okay.”
I question her vast knowledge of things well beyond her years. The Callings. Reflections. Projecting and the Void and the Verity.
She shrugs. “My mother passed on everything she knew to me. It was always ‘You can do more. You can be better.’ And ‘For the Void, Ebony, why can’t you be more like me?’” She mimics Isabeau’s cool tone. Even her stance alters to mirror that of the woman I’ve only met once. “Even when my Shield abilities surpassed those of my peers, when I began to learn to project and find strength in the Verity long before my Confine lifted, it was still never enough.” Her shoulders relax. She flings another stone at the waves.
I nod. Listen. Was it less than two weeks ago I loathed her? Weird how quickly things change.
“It’s what I keep telling you, Em. When something’s right it simply happens.”
Ky’s voice in my head warms me like the Verity. But then, no, not in my head. Breath at my ear. Hands at my waist.
Ebony smirks. “I’ll leave you two alone.” She faces me. “Thanks.” Then she does the weirdest thing ever.
My sister hugs me.
And I hug her back.
It’s awkward and distant, but a hug all the same. She pulls away and trudges up the beach, back toward the music and festivities.
“This is perfect,” Ky breathes in my ear. “You. Me. No one around.”
My entire body flutters as if I’m still in butterfly form. I turn into him. Wrap my arms around his torso. Press my cheek into his chest. “Where’d you run off to earlier?”
His arms tighten around me. “The Threshold.”
I draw back a few inches. Gaze up at him.
“The most recent quake left it completely drained. Looks like Niagara Falls on the other side of the island. Ambrose has had to send Guardians to hinder anyone from venturing too close. If they fell in, who knows where they’d end up.”
The weight on his shoulders is tangible. I want to grasp it, lift it away.
“We’ve no time to waste. The quakes become more frequent and severe each time. We have to move if we want to guarantee passage into the Fifth.”
I lay my head on his chest again. He sways me, tightening his embrace once more. Does he feel it too? That these moments of peace and calm could be the last we ever share? What awaits us in the Fifth? How long will it take to find Dahlia Moon? What if we can’t find her? Where do we go from there?
With each Calling that dwindles, the Verity within strengthens. I strengthen. But what happens when the final Calling dies? What happens if the Void continues to spread inside me? Which will win? Light or darkness? It’s a battle against time. Destroy the Void before it snuffs out the Verity.
My mind drifts back to a time when things were less complicated. When my biggest worries were hiding my complexion and avoiding bullies like Blake Trevor. It seems so far away now. Trivial. Were those really my main concerns? I allowed such things to consume me. An unkind word or mean look ruined my day. Why couldn’t I enjoy the good parts and let the little things go? Like having Mom to come home to each day. Like having Joshua right next door. Carefree. Happy. Void-less. There are moments I wish I could return to. To truly enjoy what I had. But it’s too little too late now. All I have is today.
I crane my neck. Watch Ky. He doesn’t notice the change at first, continues to sway with eyes closed to the beat of the tune he composed inside his head.
“I also tracked down the countess and inquired about the mirrorglass crown.”
I reach behind me. The journal is still shoved into the back of my jeans. I almost forgot I had it. It’s become like a second skin lately. “Did Ambrose know anything?”
“No more than we do. She agreed the crown might have something to do with the domino effect on the Callings and Thresholds.”
“Anything else?”
His lips press together. “Like my blade, all mirrorglass has a reverse effect. I’d wager, and the countess concurred, when David wore the crown it kept the Void inside him dormant. When the crown was removed and transferred to you, he may as well have undammed a flood. In the end it’s all about choice. Whatever he’s doing, his love for you, the Verity’s vessel, is not stronger than the Void he’s allowing to flourish inside him.”
My heart is a thousand mirrorglass pebbles scattered across the shore. How could Joshua allow this to happen? He’s always been the one to put everyone else above himself. What could possibly be going through his mind?
“I don’t know, Em.” Ky breathes against my hair. “And I hate to say this because I know what he means to you, but David is the least of our concerns. Right now all we can do is press forward.”
He’s right. I know he’s right. It’s what the Joshua I used to know would do. And he’d expect me to behave the same. Put aside everything else and focus on what must be done.
“If we leave early,” Ky says, “we can be at the Fifth’s Threshold before nightfall tomorrow. The Seven Seas is still in the Third with the rest of our crew. But Isaach has offered to allow us to return on his ship with him.”
Except I can’t put this aside. This moment. Here. With Ky.
Slipping one arm from around his waist, I reach up, index finger extended. Then I trace the scar running from his ear to his neck. Listen for his thoughts to share what I’ve wondered since our reunion.
They open like a gate, welcoming me in. I see him tortured by Jasyn’s Soulless. Watch him beaten by Haman. And the burn, oh my, the burn.
He tenses beneath my touch. Straightens.
I place my palm against his heart. Feel its pace quicken. Why would he be ashamed of this? Saving a little girl from a fire? It’s heroic. Noble. Why hide it?
His thoughts close off, leaving my inquiry unanswered. He looks down. There’s a question in his eyes. But also something else.
Longing.
I don’t breathe. Don’t think. Don’t act like myself at all. Because taking action is not my strong suit. Because grabbing a guy by the shoulders and kissing him full on the mouth is not a normal occurrence for me. But I have to do this. I may never have a quiet moment with him again. Our first kiss was under pre
ssure. Desperate. Too fast and too short and I want to remember it more, but I didn’t take the time to remember it. I want something I can remember.
I want this. Right now. Because when I kiss him, everything looks different. Because when I kiss him, nothing is the same.
ASIDE
KY
I stumble back and my eyes go wide. For the love of—Well, well, well. Look who was right, as usual.
I knew she’d kiss me first.
Her hands squeeze my shoulders. Her eyes are closed. She kisses me with ferocity. I almost think she’s angry, but no. It’s not anger. Not anger at all. This is just Em. This is the Em deep inside who at long last is rising to the surface.
I want to fist pump the air. To hoot and holler and yell. But there will be time for celebration later. Because this kiss is her decision. She’s confessed her love, but this action confirms her choice.
And she’s finally choosing me.
Before I know it her face is between my hands and her arms are around my waist and we’re moving. I can’t tell if it’s her leading or me leading or a bit of both. Regardless, we’re traveling across the sand. Kissing and walking and kissing again until I’m on my back, pulling her onto me, careful to keep my distance but also craving her the way I’ve always craved her.
And I don’t want to keep my distance anymore.
FORTY
Joshua
I will not hurt her. This is only meant to scare her into giving me what I came for the first time. The rose does belong to Isabeau, after all. Troll or not, wicked or not, I am out of options. I am out of time.
Under cover of night we creep into the Fourth’s palace. We waited until we could be sure everyone had gone to bed. Gage doubles as lookout and backup ten paces behind. Guardians stand at every doorpost and column. The ones remaining, anyway. The earthquake left things a disaster. Columns split in half and steps caved in, the palace looks more like ancient ruins now than architectural genius. It’s obvious some cleanup has been done, but there is still much work to do. I hate to revel in the tragedy, but it does leave us an advantage due to the fortunate fact that ruins contain a lot of holes.