by Sara Ella
And there’s another thing too. Something I didn’t pick up on until now. The men wear stripped cloth at their belts, one on each corner. The colors are vibrant, and the cloth dances and sways with each body move.
The Verity’s true form plays at the forefront of my mind. Could the cloths be like the dyed hair tassels of the Second? A sign these people serve the Verity? What tokens of loyalty did I miss in the Third and Fourth? I make a mental note to pay better attention. Knowing who stands with the Verity with just a glance could be useful in the future.
I watch as the other tribe members huddle in, some resting on halved logs or the desert ground, others standing in groups of twos, threes, and fours. Aside from Charley, who seems at home among a group of women who could be her twins, our Seven Seas misfits remain banded. We squeeze onto a log, out of place with our non-orange hair and drab clothing.
Our arrival at the Nitegra Compound was welcomed with a horde of questions and wide-eyed stares. The Fifth is apparently the least populated of all Reflections, and even more so now with the draining Thresholds. Isaach explained the Nabka Compound near the same Threshold was abandoned the day the lake began to drain. No one wants to live in the desert without ample water and a passage out. Need I explain?
“Me great-great-great-great-great . . .” I lost track of how many greats he used. “. . . grandpappy discovered the Fifth,” the chief explained. “Brought his tribe and settled the first compound. Over time the tribe grew and split in two, then three. We eventually grew to five—Nitegra, Nabka, Mancheco, Uptuck, and Koweapnan.” He held up four fingers, confirming he’d been drinking again. Or maybe the tongue-twisting tribe names scrambled his brain. “Our tribe is the best, though. Ain’t that right, Breckan?”
She smiled sweetly up at him, patting his pronounced gut with her dainty hand. Adoration shone from her eyes. It was apparent in the way she hugged him. In how she watched him walk away.
Now she’s center stage. I glance at Isaach who sits just beyond her. The same admiration I saw in her now radiates from him. His gaze never abandons her. The constant smile she bears conveys that she doesn’t question her husband’s love.
I reach right and slip my hand into Ky’s. He squeezes it, tracing the top of my thumb with his. With Joshua I carried so many doubts. Worries. Was our connection real? Manufactured? But with Ky? I don’t wonder for a second what goes on in that mind of his. And not because I can hear him most of the time. It’s because when you know, you just know. And knowing is a beautiful thing.
“Quiet now, quiet.” Breckan makes a sort of lower-the-volume movement with her hands.
The tribe’s chatter dies. The fire snap, crackle, pops. Smoke wafts toward us, makes me blink too much. I lower my head, watch Ky’s thumb move back and forth over my skin. He has a freckle on his knuckle. I curve my lips.
“The Legend of the Shadowalkers,” Breckan begins, “is a tale as old as the Reflections.”
Chills raise the hairs on my arms. Countess Ambrose mentioned Shadowalkers, beings who worship the Void. Breckan says they’re legend, but I have a feeling, like the story Ky read in the council chamber, the Shadowalkers are very real indeed. I’m betting Jasyn Crowe was a Shadowalker. He chose the Void, relished its power. Is that really any different from worship?
“Legend says,” Breckan continues, “tha first Shadowalker began as a vessel of tha Void.”
I look up just as Breckan casts a backward glance toward Isaach. A teasing, playful look. He lifts the pint that might as well be glued to his palm, then winks. Something tells me they’re sharing an inside joke meant for the two of them alone.
“Corrupt was tha vessel. Loathsome.” Her face contorts, as if she’s donning a scary mask. “Rather than fight against tha Void, tha vessel welcomed it. It began with a single bend of the will, but soon became more. Even tha Verity’s vessel could do nothing ta stop it. For when tha Void’s vessel began ta love himself more than tha one who held tha Verity, that’s when things went south.”
A low murmur passes like a wave over the tribe. Some excited. Some in awe. They must’ve heard this story before, but still they take it in as if they’re hearing it for the first time.
“When tha Void moved on ta another, tha previous vessel remained loyal ta tha darkness. Followed tha new vessel everywhere and soon convinced others ta join as well.”
Tiernan. Jasyn. Gage. All willingly surrendered to the Void. No one forced them like with Ky or the Soulless.
“Heed me warning, friends. Listen to me words. For here is tha moral of me tale. We all have a little darkness in us, but tha choice is yers. Will ya fight it?” She puts up her fists. “Or will ya bow?” She flourishes her arm in a wide sweep. Stare intense, she lets her gaze pass over us all, as if allowing her words to sink in. Then, after what seems like eons, she backs away and sits on Isaach’s lap.
He kisses his wife full on the mouth and she returns the sentiment with fervor, grabbing his face between her hands. The tribe hollers and whistles. Someone begins a song on the bagpipes. Children rise and dance in circles around the fire. Knee slaps, claps, guffaws, and giggles. All are present. All should lift my spirits.
But my mood is not so joyous. My heart droops and I lean my head on Ky’s shoulder, blocking my thoughts as I wonder . . .
Has Joshua chosen the life of a Shadowalker?
FORTY-FOUR
Joshua
Where am I?”
My eyes awaken to darkness. It consumes me, pulling me under. I see and feel nothing. I cannot recall what hour it is. Is it day or night? How long have I been out? Am I still out? Blackness is my only company, weighing heavy on my soul. I try to claw at it, but I cannot move. My arms feel pinned at my sides, and my legs are filled with lead. When I inhale it’s as if I’m breathing smoke. An attempt to choke it away is futile. The fumes will not recede. Have I died?
“In a way, yes,” a voice says, though it is not the sinister hiss I’ve come to know recently. This voice is much more horrifying, because this voice is not foreign, as this voice sounds like my own.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“Who else?” he says. “I am you.”
I try to sit, though I have no way to decipher if I am lying down or standing up. It’s as if I am in a state of limbo. There is no north or south, no right or left. There is only darkness and my own voice taunting me in my head.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You’ve kept me suppressed for so long, but I’ve longed to be released. When you finally began to unlock my chains, I knew it was only a matter of time before you allowed me to take over completely.”
Head pounding, I attempt the smallest movement. A roll of my wrist or a turn of my head. But I remain stationary, imprisoned in the darkness of my own mind.
“Doesn’t feel good, does it?” he asks. “To be trapped inside yourself? Welcome to my world.”
I want to draw my sword, but my fingers won’t so much as twitch at my sides. “Who are you? Where am I?” The desire to pass out again presses on my eyelids, but I force them wide. “Do not play games with me.”
“I told you. I am you, or a version of you. You may call me Josh, if you wish.”
A guttural sound emits from my throat. If I could, I’d clench my fists and punch this imposter in his invisible face. I always hated when someone slipped and called me Josh. It’s not my name. “Where am I? Do not make me ask again.”
“The light in your soul has been captured. Taken over by me, the most selfish, most shadowed part of you.”
It cannot be. “Release me, you swine.” My soul thrashes. “Release me or I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” Josh jeers. “You are helpless now that I have at last risen to the surface. And we have a job to do. The Elixir—”
No! What have I done? What could I have possibly been thinking? This isn’t the way. “Don’t you touch her.” The words seethe, hot coals on my own head. “You go near her and I swear I’ll—”
“Again with the threats.�
�� I can almost envision my evil side with arms crossed and eyes narrowed, a wicked smile plastered on his face. “You have no power over me anymore. I am free. And I’ll not be returning to my prison.”
With all my might I lash against the darkness, against the Void I so foolishly allowed to spread. My muscles burn, but I don’t relent. My chest feels as if it may explode as Josh continues to hiss in my ear.
“Allow this. Welcome it.”
“No!”
“This is your punishment.”
“I can do better. I can do right. I can be good. I can overcome.”
“She deserves better than you.”
I cease my fight.
Josh isn’t wrong. After all I’ve done, lying, bartering with traitors, murdering the countess . . . do I truly believe El would have me? No doubt she’d take one look at me and see the horror I’ve become.
I exhale and rest, the darkness like a ton of bricks pressing in. I don’t think of it as giving up, but more like letting go. A release of sorts. The Void has latched onto my mind now, a virus taking over the network of my brain. I am no longer Joshua, but Josh. The Void is in control. The release lifts a burden I can no longer bear.
I close my eyes and El’s face fills my mind as I drift off to sleep.
FORTY-FIVE
Calling to Me
I can’t remember where or from whom, but at one point I heard time is like a river. Maybe it was Disney’s Pocahontas, or perhaps it was that super-nerdy kid Greg in fourth grade who always went on and on about The Legend of Zelda. Either way, I’m stealing the phrase. Because as we follow the shore along the Docolora River, one thing is certain.
You can’t stop time.
It’s always flowing and changing. You can try to pause its course, even alter it. But it continues moving and eventually builds up and bursts free, pouring over the dam you created. The flow of time is inevitable. Fight it or go with it. But no matter what you do, you can’t turn back. I think Dimitri was wrong in that regard. He said time is a loop, but how can it be?
No one can change the past.
I rub my droopy eyes, checking to ensure, once again, that I didn’t leave Dimitri’s journal behind. I read late into the night until the last flicker of campfire faded. The chapter on mirrorglass only confirmed Ky’s assumption that the crown had something to do with recent catastrophic events. I draw it to the surface of my mind, using my Scrib memory to recall every detail.
Second Day, Twelfth Month, Eleventh Year of Count VonKemp
I have confirmed mirrorglass may be molded into weapons and tools when melted by the flame of Dragon’s breath. Dragons are sly, vicious creatures. To behold their breath and live to tell the tale would be a rare feat indeed, making items fashioned from mirrorglass a valuable commodity. Should one come across such an item, I would advise he guard it with his life.
My gaze falls to Ky a few feet ahead. His bare back is toward me, his shirt wrapped around his head like a turban. His mirrorglass blade is sheathed at his side. I’ve never asked him who originally gave it to him. I’d search his thoughts, but I have a feeling that’s a story he needs to share when he’s ready. Instead I let my mind wander back to Dimitri’s words. Let them sink in like the last note of a truly profound piece.
What is perhaps truly the most fascinating feature of mirrorglass is its effects on light and darkness. The reverse effect seems to turn darkness into light and vice versa. If I had not witnessed it with my own eyes, I would not believe it myself. But when exposed to light, the mirrorglass turns dark, and when darkness hits it? The stuff reflects back light. It is quite the sight to behold.
And this one revelation explained so much. Ky and I were awake until dawn discussing it. When Joshua wore the crown, it turned his darkness light, keeping the Void dormant as Ky said. But when I took it on? The crown only served to suppress the light. It’s why I felt a sudden loss of warmth and peace at the coronation. The reason my connection to Ky grew stronger. The Verity was silenced for a time, allowing the Void in Ky to work its way in through our intertwined souls. When I finally removed the crown at the brownstone, it was too late. The damage had been done, my connection to Ky and the Void more solid than ever. It found its way into me, latching on through my growing love for the boy before me.
The knowledge brings joy and sorrow in a single wipe of my brow. Joy because it wasn’t some problem with my blemished soul that caused the Verity to grow weak. Sorrow because had I not been connected to Ky by a Kiss of Infinity, the Void never would’ve found its way in to begin with.
When King Aidan wore the crown, his soul was not linked to Jasyn’s, so the crown would not have hurt the Verity within. It may have dimmed it, and I’m guessing because of that Aidan would not have worn the crown often. But even with the light docile, darkness wouldn’t have found a door. It was my soul bond to Ky that made the difference. But how can I regret saving him from becoming Soulless? I don’t know who I’d be without him.
I look at Ky again. His scars shine in the sunlight, his rose and thorn Shield seal standing out among the wreckage of his skin. The image brings another to mind. Joshua bruised and bleeding. Joshua doing everything in his power to protect me from taking on the Void. As selfish and coldly methodical as his actions come off, everything he’s done has always been about one thing.
Saving the people.
Saving me.
Chewing my bottom lip, I mull this over as we make the trek to Dahlia Moon’s. Not because I’m changing my mind. Ky or Joshua? But because Joshua was my best friend—my only friend—for a long time. We have a history. Ky may be my present, my future, but Joshua? He’s my past and that doesn’t change overnight. It never changes.
Because no one can change the past.
Isaach relayed Dahlia lives at the canyon’s east end, only half a day’s walk from the Nitegra Compound. Breckan drew us a map on a flat red stone, pointing out the Reyaub Cliffs to the west and the Nabka Forest to the north, admonishing us to stay along the river’s shore. “As long as ye can find tha river, ye can find yer way east or west. It’s like a path, ye see?” She smiled then bogged us down with packs full of food, supplies, and water.
“The Fifth’s desert is wicked.” She bustled about her hut, riffling through baskets, arms loaded with whatever she could scrap. “Hard ta keep yer wits about ya when that noon sun hits. Rest beneath tha shade when ye find it, and sip at yer canteen every ten minutes er so. And don’t ferget what I said before. Stay near tha river if ya know what’s good fer ya. Good luck.”
With a wave the odd couple sent us on our way. Charley elected to stay behind, whittling our group down another notch. Six of us remain, and everyone’s been filled in on our mission. Ky didn’t see a reason to keep things hidden any longer.
“You all deserve to know what we face in the days ahead.” Mopping his face with his shirt, he made eye contact with each of us. “If anyone wants to stay back, he or she is welcome to do so.”
We listened and some exchanged glances. In the end, only Charley bowed out. I searched Flint’s eyes, looking for something I could trust—or suspect. He hasn’t said much since the Fourth, and Gunner does most of his talking for him. Still, the pilot tagged along, hands shoved in his pockets and back hunched. Now we march in silence, our tasks wheeling through my mind.
Find Dahlia Moon.
Inquire about the first vessel of the Verity.
Locate said vessel.
Destroy. The. Void.
I shared my theory with Ky during our all-nighter. We sat under cover of the Fifth’s stars, legs dangling over the edge of a cliff, sharing a canteen of sweet cactus juice and a handful of grapes.
“Is it possible?” I popped a green grape into my mouth, the juice oozing tartness onto my tongue.
Ky took a swig. Wiped his mouth with the back of his arm. “Makes sense. We’ll have to mention it to Dahlia. If the Void was created by lack of love, why wouldn’t true love be its weakness?”
Leaning back on my elbows
, I nodded. The night was cool but not uncomfortable. Maybe the desert wasn’t so bad. We sat that way for some time. I didn’t want to fall asleep and give up the moment.
But daylight always reigns. And what did it bring but white-hot doubts beating down with the sun’s rays? What was I thinking? The desert is awful. Everything appears better at night. Now I’m rethinking the notion I know anything about destroying the Void. Maybe this is all pointless.
“The Fifth’s desert is wicked . . . Keep yer wits about ya.”
Breckan’s words are a bucket of ice down my back. Blink. Step. Straighten. Nearly there. We left before dawn and the sun is almost directly above now. I wipe the sweat seeping into my eyes, shade them. Where—?
“I see it! I see it!” Khloe jumps up and down, spunkier than she should be after half a day in the heat.
We pick up our pace, canteens rattling against our packs. My sweatshirt wrapped around my waist loosens and I cinch it snug. We follow the winding hill path, the way jutting into the rocks, then back out. When we near the top, the house comes into full view. In the shade of the canyon wall our destination grows clear. That’s when I stop. Take a step. Crane my neck. And then I’m holding my breath, covering my mouth with both hands. Because I’ve seen this house before. I know it. All at once I don’t care about my aching legs or my heat exhaustion or anything but shoving past the crew and bursting through the door.
This is Mom’s dream house, the one she drew in her sketchbook-slash-journal. The one she labeled “Someday.” The stone chimney. The hedge of rosebushes. The ivy framing the door. The foliage is dried out and the structure is a little dilapidated, but it’s here.
“Mom?” I call once I’m inside. “Mom? Are you here?”
“Eliyana?” Her voice is faint. Muffled. Far.
Biggest sigh of relief ever. “Mom. Where are you? Where’s Evan? I can’t see anything.”