What gifts would the third mark bring? He could barely wait to find out.
“She’s become a serious problem,” Markus said. “For you, for me. For all of us.”
He nodded. “I know.”
Markus watched him carefully for any flinch, any sign of distress. “If I asked you to, if I decided it would be the best decision for the future of Hawkspear and for my mission . . . would you kill her?”
Farrell held his leader’s gaze steadily as the distant scream of the boy he used to be faded away to a mere whisper.
“Yes, Markus. I would.”
Chapter 29
CRYSTAL
The elevator doors opened, and, just as Adam had promised, Crys and Becca found themselves standing in a fine restaurant. After running around down in the tunnels and the empty theater, Crys found the sound of voices and laughter and the rich scents of authentic Italian food disorienting.
“Take this.” Adam handed Becca a plastic shopping bag that he’d grabbed from behind a potted plant. “I stashed it here earlier. Your father said you’d need some shoes and something to wear. They’re my mother’s. Probably not your style, but they’ll do.”
“Thank you,” said Becca wearily but gratefully.
They didn’t linger in the restaurant. Once they were out in the street, they stopped at the nearest corner, where Crys shielded Becca so she could quickly change and discard her hospital gown. The blue silk dress Adam had brought was loose on her and far too formal, but the shoes were flats and seemed to fit her well enough.
“Thanks again for your help,” Crys said to Adam. Her head and rib cage ached from the pounding she’d taken from Lucas, but she tried not to think about it.
“I know you probably hate my brother,” Adam said as they walked, as casually as possible so as not to attract any attention. Crys didn’t know where they were going, but Adam walked with purpose down an unfamiliar route of side streets and alleys, and she’d officially decided to trust him. “But that’s not really who he is. Markus gave him another mark that changed him into something he’s not, something dark and hateful.”
Was that true? Was this Farrell who Crystal knew someone who only existed because of what Markus had done to him, just like her father?
She had no time to consider this. Besides, it’s not as if it mattered. Farrell had chosen his side. They both had.
“We’re here.” Adam nodded at the white Honda Accord idling at the side of the road. There were rental stickers on the bumper.
Aunt Jackie leaned out the window. “Thanks, Adam. I’ll take it from here. Girls, get in the car right now.”
Crys gave Adam another grateful nod before she and Becca climbed into the backseat.
“Jackie,” Crys began, “I’ve never been happier to see anyone in my entire life.”
“Right back at you.” As soon as she laid eyes on the book in Crys’s arms, Jackie let out a huge sigh of relief. “You still have it.”
“Yes.” Thanks to Dad, we do, she thought. “Where’s Mom?”
Jackie got the car in gear and started to drive. Becca watched through her window as they passed Adam Grayson, who was now walking back the way they’d come, his hands deep in his pockets, his attention on the sidewalk. “Making arrangements for us. She sent me to pick you up while she figures out our next move. We can’t go back to the Speckled Muse right away, not with the Codex on us. That’ll be the first place he’ll look.”
Crys immediately perked herself up, but regretted it when her body cried out in pain. “We can’t leave Charlie there all alone!”
“We can’t? Well then, it’s a good thing I have him up here with me.” She patted the small pet carrier on the passenger seat, which Crys hadn’t noticed before now. “Don’t worry. Your mom made sure to tell me which essentials to bring.”
Despite how lighthearted she was being, Crys could see the worry in her aunt’s eyes reflected in the rearview mirror.
“You called Dad looking for Markus,” Crys said. “Why?”
“I got your messages, but I also got one from Daniel. Which is how we were able to arrange all this with Adam. You know, I was more than ready to write your father off completely, and then he has to go and do something selfless and brave like this. I called on a signal from Daniel to distract Markus so you two would have a chance to escape. Luckily, for all of us, it worked. I wasn’t totally sure it would.”
“What did you say to him?”
There was a momentary silence, one that felt heavy and pained. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is we’re together. Now, sit back, try to relax, and let me do the driving.”
Just as she’d attempted to see Becca differently now that she knew the truth, Crys tried to look at Jackie through the lens of her newfound knowledge about her aunt’s past.
Becca’s birth mother. Markus’s ex-lover.
“Are you okay?” Becca asked Crys.
“You’re asking me?” Crys said, rubbing her aching head. “I’m going to be, I think. What about you?”
“Just trying to keep breathing.” She hesitated. “Crys . . . when I touched that book, it sent my spirit to another world.”
Crys blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I know how crazy it sounds—believe me. Maybe my body was here, but the rest of me was somewhere very, very different.” She let out a shaky sigh. “And . . . I met a boy there.”
“While you were in a coma, and your spirit was in another world, you met a boy. Wow, your social life is way more vibrant than mine. The only boy I met was only talking to me because someone carved an evil spell into him.”
Becca didn’t speak for a moment, but her bottom lip began to quiver. Crys reached for her hand. “Sorry, I shouldn’t joke. Tell me more about this boy.”
“He was special. In such a short time, he became so special to me.”
“You fell for him hard, huh?”
She nodded, her eyes moist. “I can’t believe I’m never going to see him again. There has to be a way for me to find him again. There has to.”
“Of course there’s a way,” Crys replied.
Becca’s eyebrows shot up. “How can you say something like that?”
“Because, my blond bookworm, this week I’ve come to believe in magic. And if I can believe in magic, then, damn it, anything’s possible.”
Becca laughed softly, wistfully. “Okay, then I guess I’ll believe right along with you.”
“I’ve come to believe in something else this week, too. It’s been in front of me all this time and . . .” She shook her head. “And I’ve been so stupid and blind not to see it so clearly before.”
“What?”
“You, Becca.” Crys drew in a deep breath and took a firm hold of her sister’s hand. “I believe in you.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Since Falling Kingdoms has come out, I’ve been lucky enough to experience more enthusiasm from readers than ever before in my writing career. I’m so excited that you’re excited! That is what gets me out of bed early(ish) in the mornings and at the keyboard. That’s what sees me through into the late, late nights when I’m editing or proofreading or trying to make a deadline. You—yes YOU—are seriously everything to me, and I can’t thank you enough!
Thank you to my mother, my father, my sister Cindy, and my BIL Mike. I couldn’t ask for a better support team and pep squad; plus you feed me regularly since you know I can’t cook. A million thank-yous.
Thank you to Bonnie Staring, Eve Silver, and Juliana Stone for being there for me as my friends and my kindred spirits in writing. You are three shining stars that I’m so very lucky to have in my life.
Thank you to my gift and fabulous editor Elizabeth Tingue; thank you so much for helping me take this book from a meandering first draft to a finished book I’m proud of. I thank the Muses every day that we are on the same page (pun full
y intended!). Thank you to Jim McCarthy, my darling agent of a decade-plus now who is truly the best. You both rock!
My eternal thanks to Ben Schrank for allowing me to take a detour into another part of Mytica and for helping to point me in the right direction when I misplace my writer GPS. And to Laura Arnold for originally wanting me to write more books apart from the main series. I miss you! Thanks also to Casey McIntyre, Anna Jarzab, Jessica Shoffel, Erin Berger, Mia Garcia, and Colleen Lindsay, to name only a few fabulous Penguins who make All Things Possible. Also, to Tony Sahara, Irene Vandervoort, Anthony Elder, and Shane Rebenschied, who make beautiful cover art together. Penguin Young Readers and Razorbill are the bomb dot com. Truth.
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