Kendall steps forward, his hand touches me softly on the shoulder. I know he’s trying to tell me it’s time to go. We have to meet the others.
Something prompts me to test what Grace just told me on him. I reach out with my Psychic Magic; concentrating hard on reading the movement of his body, the way he stands, the subtle tilt in his facial features.
“You’re anxious,” I say, quietly. I think harder, trying to untangle the signals I got from just that short read. “And you’re…” I don’t finish what I say. I look up at him, and for a brief second, I take his hand and squeeze.
He avoids looking me straight in the eyes.
The faint ticking of the clock in my pocket reminds me that we have to join the others. Edgar made it very clear to us that he won’t wait for us if we’re late. I don’t have time for him and the rest to return to speak to Bram. I probably don’t even have time to check in on Flynn myself before we leave.
“We’ll go over more later,” Grace says, waving us on.
I don’t bother to say thank you. After all, she already knows.
23
Draven
The moment Octavia disappears around the corner with Kendall, Cedric halts in his tracks and shoots out an arm to stop me. I don’t appreciate the suddenness of the gesture, but given the circumstances, I choose not to make anything of it. Instead, I take an indifferent step and shove my hands in my pockets to keep them from anxiously fiddling.
“Tell me,” Cedric says, “that this isn’t as bad an idea as I think it is.”
“I can’t,” I say. “Because it is.”
Even when I worked for The Underground making their Salamander Brandy, I never dreamed of touching the hard stuff. I heard rumors of what they could make, of what it did to those who took it, but I never cared to learn any further details.
Maybe I should have.
“We have to stop Octavia.”
I take another half step back and survey Cedric a little better. “Is this about your daddy issues again?”
He glares at me but doesn’t lash out as he once might have. Seems finding out his father basically murdered his mother for the sake of keeping his own powers has slightly loosened his loyalties. About time.
“No,” Cedric says. “It’s about Octavia. She’s taking all the blame for the fact that we ended up here.”
“Well…” I scuff one foot on the cement floor. “She isn’t entirely wrong.”
Cedric screws up his eyes further. “So, you think she should be risking herself the way she is? Just because she made a mistake?”
I put up my hands in my defense. “Hey, that’s not what I said. I only meant…Octavia didn’t exactly consult us before she dragged all of us into an alternate plane. We can’t even escape if we want to.”
“Don’t you?” He asks, suddenly.
“What?”
He steps closer, glancing slyly to the side. “Escape.”
“We can’t.”
Footsteps alert us to a nearby mage. Cedric and I step apart, looking down at the floor, the walls, the dim fluorescent lights—anywhere but each other until the mage has passed by and his footsteps have retreated down the adjoining hall.
This time, I leave little space between us. “Of course,” I say, my voice so low I am not sure even he can hear it. “But those are dangerous words. You, Octavia, the others…you have no idea what this place is…no idea what Bram is really capable of.”
“And you do?”
Cedric’s word strikes true.
“No,” I admit, the bubbling anger fueled by fear slowly fading. “But I know a little more than you.”
He shrugs his shoulders. “Fine. Let’s just go see how Flynn is doing.”
“Wait.”
I catch him on the shoulder, but quickly drop my hand as I feel the muscles tense reflexively underneath.
“I never got the chance to say I was sorry.”
Cedric blinks at me, not understanding.
“For your father,” I say. “We really had no idea.”
“He’s a bastard,” Cedric says, spitting out the words.
“But he’s your bastard, and he’s still alive,” I say. “I’m not saying to give him a second chance or anything. I’m just saying…sorry.”
Cedric hesitates a moment, and then he nods his head once.
It may be just me, but for a moment, he is unreadable. I take the chance to saunter past, clapping him hard on the back as I do. “There you are,” I say. “Glad to have you back.”
There was a time when I despised Cedric. Sometimes I think I still do. But despite my best efforts, I think I might be growing to like him after all. Damn Octavia, bringing us all together. Everything I’ve done for the last few months has been to keep her safe…but now I’m starting to worry about the others too.
It sure would make things a lot easier if they would all stop trying to die on me.
Flynn is already looking visibly worse by the time we arrive.
He turns over from where he lays under a thin blanket and sits up. Where before he seemed to have no trouble moving, he can’t keep a slight grimace from breaking across his face. His skin, already pale, has turned an even sicklier shade of white. The rash is gone, but the lack of color only makes the black mark on his chest appear darker.
In just the matter of less than an hour, the black mark spreading from his chest has already spread out across his body to encompass the better part of his torso.
“I’ll likely die before you get back,” Flynn says. “So, do try not to take too long.”
There is no point in being subtle now.
Despite the fact that he looks like he is slowly being consumed by ink running through his veins, he is, at least, still somewhat himself.
I catch the nurse by her sleeve before we have to go.
“Is it going to kill him?”
Her hesitation is my answer.
This doesn’t stop Flynn from pushing himself up further into a proper sitting position. His eyes briefly search the empty doorframe behind us.
“She went to get Kendall some proper clothes,” I say, though now I realize one of us should have volunteered to do it. She should be here, with him. It’s her he wants to see. “I can get her,” I start, “We may have time.”
He shakes his head so fervently the bed shakes with it. “No,” he says, quickly. “I don’t want her to worry more.”
“Maybe she should.” Cedric’s gaze traces the lines of black across Flynn’s torso.
Flynn settles back in the bed.
“The sooner you go, the more likely I will survive.” His eyes slide over to me a moment before he closes them again. “Take your time out there. Very little will pass here. But the longer you linger here, the sooner I die.”
There isn’t a proper way to say goodbye, so we just leave.
It’s my turn to stop Cedric once we’re safely out of earshot of the infirmary.
“What if it isn’t worth it,” I say.
He tilts his head to the side. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean…” I take a breath, “What if this, all this…isn’t worth it.”
“It’s going to be fine.”
“And if it isn’t? If it’s Octavia in that bed next?”
Cedric looks away, his jaw working in the dim light.
“We can’t avoid that possibility forever,” I say. I glance back at the infirmary we just left. “This place…it isn’t the academy. There we were worried about getting our powers stripped. Here…”
“Don’t.”
I do. “Here, when we make mistakes…we die. Is that something you can live with if it’s her next?”
If looks could kill, Cedric would be my murderer.
“It won’t be.”
I take a couple steps until we are side by side. “I’ve rethought what I said before. Maybe it is time we started planning an…alternative.”
I hear my name called from the far end of the hall. Octavia has appeared
with Kendall at her side again. From the way she is waving that clock of hers, the only one that apparently works here in the in-between, it is already time to go.
“As soon as we get back,” Cedric says.
I nod and extend my hand out to him. He glances at it, and then at Octavia, and he shakes it.
It’s time we started doing what we promised to do in the beginning. Octavia has done her best to protect us for too long. It’s time we step up and do the same.
Just because she got us here doesn’t mean we have to stay. There are other ways to make sure we stay together on the other side. I can’t think of any at the present, but there has to be. And if there is, we’ll find it.
24
Octavia
I can sense that something has passed between them, but neither Draven nor Cedric looks particularly interested in explaining. I try using my Psychic Magic like Grace taught me, but all I get is apprehension from them. At least it isn’t the same deep loss I felt from Kendall. It still pricks at my sense of guilt.
I glance at him and quickly look away. We’re about to go on a literal drug run for a crime syndicate in order to contact Cedric’s father, but we haven’t done anything yet to find out of Wednesday is okay. I never did tell Kendall about the text message. I think it’s because, now that it’s all said and done, I realize it was more for my sake than his.
I like to think that if I knew she was in the same danger as Flynn, I’d be rushing to her side as well. But the truth is, I don’t know. None of us do…not until the actual thing is staring us in the face.
Much like Edgar is doing to me now.
Since Bram is not here, we meet back in the lounge. He’s left an open exit here, I realize, but also enough mages hanging around it to ensure no one is going in or out who shouldn’t be. I still make a mental note of it. Secret exits are always worth noting.
It’s just a few others. Edgar, Brendan, and two other mages I think I recognize from the lounge earlier—some of the shadier ones who actually look like they fit in here.
“You ready to go, or should we wait another half hour for you?”
If Bram is indeed going to be out on this run, then we need to get to him now. And if what Cedric and Draven told me is true, the sooner we leave, the better.
“What are we waiting for?” I say, shouldering the pack he handed me as soon as we arrived. Its contents clink together as I adjust the straps to fit my smaller frame. The bag is heavy enough to contain nothing but rocks, but I’m just glad to be here.
We are about to head out when more footfalls echo behind us. I turn to look just as Acacia and Horatio appear around the corner, their faces flushed.
“Sorry,” Acacia says, her footsteps skidding to a halt in front of Edgar. “We ran a little late in the training room.”
Her eyes search the ground, looking for something. They land on me and the bag slung over my shoulders, and narrow.
“We don’t need you,” Edgar says. He smacks his flat palm onto the top of my bag, nearly upending me. “We had a couple last minute changes.”
Acacia’s eyes search over us frantically. “But—”
“We’ve been with you for months,” Horatio butts in. He steps forward, brushing me aside and standing in front of Edgar. “I think we deserve to come.”
Edgar sighs.
“It isn’t about who deserves what,” he snaps. “It’s about what I do and do not want to have to explain to Bram.”
“How about you explain to me why all of a sudden we’re just brushed aside when you let these…” Horatio’s eyes rove over me with disgust, “…pretenders suddenly into the inner circle?”
I’m surprised by the harshness of his words. I didn’t exactly think we were friends, but I didn’t realize they thought quite so…low…of us.
Edgar scoffs and brushes past him hard enough to make him stumble back a step. “You were never part of the inner circle to begin with.”
Acacia’s fingers curl around the edges of Horatio’s sleeves, holding him in place.
Edgar grabs a last pack and shoves it into Cedric’s arms.
“C’mon. Bram won’t like it if we’re late.”
I glance back at Acacia and Horatio once more. I shouldn’t feel guilty that they are jealous that we get to go on the drug run, but I still do. This is their lives by choice. Ours only by necessity.
Horatio’s voice calls after us.
“What’s it take, then?”
Edgar doesn’t look back at him, but rather, at me.
“Guts,” he says.
And that there is the closest thing to a compliment I ever expect to hear from Edgar.
We trudge out into the in-between, that space that pulls at me in odd ways, and someone shuts the doors behind us. It is strangely lonely this time, even though the three mages I left behind last time are with me now.
Maybe it is because I know what will happen if we do not succeed. The idea of losing just one of them makes my heart hurt. I’ve only ever been afraid of losing the bond that connects us. Never before have I been afraid for their lives.
It is this somber thought that makes the pack on my back feel suddenly light. Or it could be the fact that I catch Cedric carefully concentrating on it more than once throughout the trek that brings us further and further out into this strange plane.
Edgar and his compatriots pay little attention to us. Their feet move methodically. This is a path they have traversed many times. Only when we hit those odd, thicker places where the air seems to be made of something more solid do they slow. And so, do I realize, does the ticking of my clock.
It does not tick with the steady rhythm of The Underground, running on its own time, but rather like an arrhythmia. A heartbeat uncertain where it belongs.
I try to test what Grace taught me, to sense what it is that all those around me feel.
All I get from the straight-boned backs of Edgar and his crew is that they aren’t so much annoyed with us as they are indifferent.
It seems to be the general attitude here. Indifferent to the recruits, to time, to schedules. To life. It’s an odd way to go about things, I think, but somehow Bram has made it work.
It isn’t until the dull colors fade and the shadowy forms of New York City begin to emerge that I remember I’m the only one out of the four of us—me, Draven, Kendall, and Cedric—that has been through the in-between since our arrival. This time, it is night. The night and mist blend together, making it difficult to tell exactly where the wall actually thins.
Once it does, however, and the city streets and pedestrians come into focus, I catch Kendall’s eyes lingering on a blonde girl as she passes by us. I might feel jealous if I didn’t know what he was thinking.
I test my Psychic Magic to read him, even if I have a good idea what he’s thinking about without it. He’s become keenly aware of how close he is to his twin now. If he were to somehow pass through that thin veil between the worlds he could be at her side in less than an hour.
But he doesn’t try, and the blonde girl is gone, and he says nothing about it. So, I don’t bring it up, but I do slow down a bit and take his hand, just for a moment.
I know when we are getting close to the exit because I catch Edgar and his partners stiffening. The fact that they’ve grown so restless puts me on-edge too.
There must be danger nearby for mages like these to be uneasy.
What I find most surprising, however, is that as the veil thins and our world becomes closer and closer to theirs, this is not the kind of place I expected us to be heading. Rather than some dark shadowy alley, or behind some massive shipping crates down at the docks painted with the hunched-over shadows of the lost and the homeless, we are walking down the middle of the Upper East Side of Manhattan. We pass mansions, fancy apartment homes, shops with diamonds glittering in the windows—not drug lords dressed in leather or addicts clutching to life at their sides.
Cedric bristles too. He’s not the only one close to a family member he left behind
.
“We’re so close to him,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.
“If he’s still here,” I say. I don’t let my eyes leave Edgar’s back as we speak. I’d rather he didn’t know our exact plans.
Soon the veil grows so thin that it’s almost impossible to tell where our plane ends and the other begins. Bits and pieces of the other side become more tangible. A man passes by so close I almost think I can smell the scent of snow on him. I hear a pidgeon take wing down an alley, the soft beat of its wings amplified by a soft dusting of snow where the heated grates haven’t melted it from the street.
We finally come to a stop in front of a large stone mansion just a couple blocks north of Cedric’s family home. It’s an entirely different style, bold once-white slabs of marble arranged in a no-nonsense but still impressive facade. It isn’t the same ornate, once-forgotten craftsmanship that is Cedric’s home, but whoever lives beyond these walls certainly comes from the same kind of money.
Edgar leads us around the side to a door that almost disappears into the sidewalk in front of it. The short half-flight of stairs leading down to it is so steep and so sudden, if I were here alone I might not have been able to find them on my own so much as I might have literally tumbled down them.
He doesn’t knock, he doesn’t have to, but just steps through. The others follow him, leaving myself and my paired alone on the sidewalk for a moment.
I glance at Cedric. He’s still staring down the street in the direction of home. It must be odd, I realize, to be so close but also so impossibly far away. If he were to run away now, I realize, he might be lost in the in-between forever.
So rather than waiting long enough to give him the opportunity, I take my free hand and lead Cedric and the others inside.
I sense the tear before I feel it. All the world here feels so close, it’s hard to believe the pedestrians walking by and even sometimes through us have no idea that we are here. I wonder if this is how it would feel to be a ghost.
When we pass through the door, it’s that same strange sensation as the thick parts of the in-between. There is a moment where the air feels both solid and fluid, where I wonder if I just stopped moving I might become permanently attached to the inside of the door itself.
Abandon: Book Three of the Forgotten Affinities Series Page 12