by Ashia Monet
“We could get lost…?” Daniel whispers.
Jay doesn’t answer that. “Cordelia, you said you needed WiFi? I have a laptop for you.”
Antonio opens the fridge, revealing an interior that stands even taller than him. Storm and Daniel quietly split to explore, but Blythe follows Cordelia and Jay.
Jay brings them to a sitting room with an enormous flat screen imbedded in the wall, above a holographic fireplace. He pulls out a laptop from a bookcase; leave it to the creator of Zadis himself to leave computers lying around his home.
“Do you code as well?” Cordelia asks, crossing her legs on a cream sofa that looks like its hovering in midair.
“No,” Jay says. “I don’t know anything about it.”
Cordelia looks slightly disappointed. “Oh. Well, you could always learn. I could teach you if—”
“I’m not interested,” Jay interrupts, passing her the laptop. Then his gaze turns to Blythe. “Could you come with me?”
Blythe doesn’t know what he could possibly want to talk to her about, but she’s too curious to refuse.
“Yeah, sure,” she agrees.
Jay guides her a few rooms back, finally stopping in front of a staircase that leads to more unknown wonders.
“Just tell me what’s going on,” Jay says. “Point blank. No bullshit.”
“You’re the one that brought me out here,” Blythe says.
“No,” Jay sighs, shutting his eyes.
“Oh, you meant with…magic and everything,” Blythe realizes. “Sorry.”
She lays out everything she can about their whole adventure. From start to finish. At first, it is for Jay’s sake. Then it is for hers; recounting everything that has happened to her these past few days is almost therapeutic. But Jay’s silver eyes haven’t strayed from her once.
“I have one question,” he says when she is done.
“Of course.”
“Why did you let Antonio bring me with you, if you were so pressed for time?”
Blythe hesitates. “At first it was just because he refused to leave without you. Then…look, I don’t think you’ll like this part,” she admits, but Jay is willing to hear anything now. “But we think—I think—you may be the last Guardian.”
He doesn’t react. “Is that it?” he asks.
That went a lot smoother than Blythe anticipated. “…yeah,” Blythe says, cautious. He has to say something.
Jay leans back a bit. And he chuckles, smiles out the window with a relieved, “Holy shit.”
“What?” Blythe stammers.
“I was thinking like…” he rolls his eyes, throwing up a hand. “I don’t know, that you guys were trying to kidnap me? But in a really elaborate way? Then I thought I was being paranoid again, and obviously I was, because y’all are cool. You’re just wrong.”
“Oh, no! We weren’t—no,” Blythe blurts. She can’t disagree emphatically enough. “We never wanted to hurt you. But…you know that even if you’re not a Guardian, you’re probably a magician—”
“No, it’s nothing like that. I’ve been doing that weird healing thing my whole life. People just aren’t supposed to see it.”
The two of them tend to speak over each other, Blythe and Jay, as if both of them want to be the one to say their piece and to say it first.
“But…it’s literally magic,” Blythe protests. “No normal human being can heal like that.”
Those words twist Jay’s expression into hard, cold stone. “Let’s not do this, Blythe. If I say I’m not one of you, I’m not one of you.”
A part of her wants to apologize for upsetting him. But that part is small and stupid. “What do you have against magicians? You just learned we existed an hour ago.”
“Nothing. I think you’re all adorable. But I am not one of you. Don’t say that I am.”
His locs whip behind him as he starts up the stairs. “I’ll be in my room. We can leave tomorrow morning.”
Blythe wants to tell him off for being immature; she juts out her hip, ready to lay into him.
On the wall, above his head, hang photos in golden frames. Family photos. They look like they are all from photoshoots, where paid professionals organized their every pose to be displayed on magazine covers. But the Hoffmans still look like a family.
There’s Charles, stoic and suited; Elizabeth, perfect makeup with a movie star’s smile; Jay—perfect, indescribable Jay…and a small boy who shares the family’s gorgeous dark skin, but with his father’s dark eyes and his mother’s loose curls.
In every picture, the boy is always at Jay’s side.
Jay has opened his house to them. And the Guardians have spoken about him and his parents as if they were idols at a museum, while he walked right beside them.
Blythe stood here, insisting he categorize himself as something he clearly does not wish to be labelled as.
Even if she is right, she is being ungrateful.
“Jay?” she calls.
He stops at the top of the stairs. “What?”
“I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know why I’m trying to…convince you about the whole magician thing. It’s…it’s stupid.”
Jay hesitates. His voice is still hard. “Sure.”
Right. That had to have seemed anything but genuine. “I was looking at the pictures and is, um,” Blythe hesitates, pointing. “Is that your brother?”
Jay glances up at the photos. “Yeah,” he says. “That’s Theo. Too smart for his own damn good. He’s always building stuff, messing with Dad’s prototypes.” He smiles. “We had to send him off to a boarding school for little geniuses like him. Couldn’t keep up with him. Especially not me.”
“You’re smart.”
“Nah, I know what my strengths are and thinking has never been one of them. Nobody’s smart like Theo anyway.”
Blythe’s not sure of what to say, but Jay doesn’t speak either. Blythe can’t stand the silence.
“Your house is beautiful, by the way,” she adds, just to break it. “You didn’t even have to let us stay here but I’m grateful you did.”
“Of course I did,” Jay says. “I hate seeing a pretty girl cry.”
Blythe must be wearing her shock, because he smirks. “What? You don’t think you’re pretty?”
This conversation has taken a turn. Blythe knows she’s pretty—she’s got a cute body too—but she didn’t expect it to factor into her “my entire family got kidnapped and I have to rescue them” experience. “No, I just…I’ve had to prepare for a lot of unexpected things these past few days, but nothing quite like that.”
Jay laughs, a sound like chiming bells. “You’ll get used to it the longer you’re around me,” he says. “How about this: let’s just chill. We can head upstairs, talk about stuff that isn’t freaky-magic-bullshit, actually get to know each other. Don’t be nervous, I don’t bite.” His bedroom eyes are sinfully tempting. “Unless you want me to.”
Part of Blythe wants to let him guide her by the hand up that movie star staircase, to a room that is probably going to take her breath away.
But that part of her remains small and stupid.
“I should really help Cordelia,” Blythe says. “She’s working on saving my family, and I can’t just leave her to handle all that alone.”
“I get it,” Jay nods. “But that just means you’ll have to come back and visit me again sometime.”
Blythe bites back a smile as she starts off. “After we kick the Trident Republic’s ass I’ll…let you know.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Jay starts up the stairs and then turns back around. “Goodnight, Blythe.”
Blythe, however, does not stop. “Goodnight, Jay.”
Cordelia is exactly where Blythe left her, and Blythe catapults onto the sofa beside her. “Jay either asked me out or is trying to hook up. Or maybe both.”
Cordelia doesn’t look up from the laptop screen. “Did he mention his bedroom at all?”
“Sort of?”
“Hook
up. To be fair, he did warn us that he was a fuckboy. But I called dibs first.”
Blythe snorts. “You can have him.”
“Have him, visit this gaudy house, marry into a famous family and raise beautiful, biracial children who are both beautiful and intelligent? Thank you, Blythe, I don’t mind if I do.”
Blythe laughs. When she’s like this, Cordelia’s actually enjoyable company.
“Back to business,” Cordelia says. “This whole ‘no magic’ thing is annoying, but Electric City is a magician city, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“So, once we’re inside, we’ll be fine. It’s just a matter of getting there. Now, we already know where Electric City is, but we’ll want to make sure we have a plan for actually navigating inside. You know, what buildings we’d like to check out, any locations that have had suspicious activity as of lately.”
“I trust you,” Blythe says. “You’ll figure something out. But we also don’t know what the Trident Republic has waiting for us, I mean, it could literally be anything. Maybe we should have some sort of escape plan or…” Blythe’s head is devoid of ideas. Of thoughts. It’s like her mind has tired of making them.
Cordelia glances up at her. “Get some sleep,” she says. When Blythe only stares at her, she elaborates. “You’ve been driving going nonstop for days, always fighting, always leading us, always thinking, and I…” Cordelia takes in a breath, as if she can’t find the words. Then she starts anew.
“I was the first Guardian that Katia found,” she says. “I didn’t have the…best attitude. I didn’t know about magic and, prior to the roof incident, I had my whole life planned out. I knew who I was. Cordelia Deleon, the girl who got the highest marks and made friends with the popular kids in the elite cliques. The girl who had the best clothes, the perfect makeup, and invitations to every important party. But most of all, I was the girl who always knew what to expect.”
She pauses. “But when this happened, I no longer knew anything. Not…how I fit into the world, or who I was. I was a Guardian, but one of seven. I was the Guardian of the Mind, which is noteworthy, but not the most powerful Element.” She purses her lips. “When Katia found me, she told me not to be rude to you. Because you were the Guardian of Ether, which made you important. And it made you the girl I wanted to be.
“I was so jealous. And angry. I hated you before we even met. And when I saw you were pretty, smart, determined and capable…I was livid. Because I’ve had to use my intelligence for everything I’ve ever wanted. But for you? Things just…fell into your lap. When you went after something, the stars aligned perfectly, and everything fell into place. You were brave. Fearless. And the universe loved you for it.
“I pretended hacking the Trident Republic was my thing, because I wanted to embark on a journey too. I spent most of my time amassing critical information on the Trident Republic, but sometimes I’d sit beside you in the car and stare at a blank screen on my phone. Pretending to have a mission as meaningful as yours.”
She looks Blythe in the eye. “But I don’t have one. My mission was selfish. Yours is selfless. You’re sacrificing everything to save your family, and at first I thought it was ridiculous but now I…I want to help you.”
Blythe can only stare at her. Because the girl she is speaking to now is completely different from the girl Katia introduced her to. And this Cordelia—this warm, empathetic, passionate person—is a thousand times better.
Cordelia places a hand on top of hers. “Go to sleep. I’ll handle everything with the same amount of fierce vigor that you conjure every single day.” Cordelia smiles. “I’ll help save your family.”
Tears blur warm in Blythe’s eyes. She holds tight to Cordelia’s hand. “Thanks, Cords.”
Cordelia holds up a perfectly manicured finger. “But if anyone asks,” she adds. “We never had this conversation.”
Blythe’s not sure where the bedrooms are. When she goes upstairs, there is only echoing silence, like Jay has been swallowed into a void. In fact, the more Blythe walks through long hallways overseeing the pool, past a romantic balcony, the more the silence grates on her.
She can’t even hear the wildlife outside. The silence permeates everything, as if the other Guardians aren’t even here.
Hoffman Manor no longer feels like a home. It feels like a cold, unwelcoming museum where no one is meant to reside…but Jay does.
Does he live with this?
The thought of being constantly, painfully alone makes her think of Caspian. Is he back at the graveyard now, sulking in the thick fog and the emptiness?
Blythe doesn’t hate him for what he’s done. She wonders if he knows that.
Finally, she stumbles upon a bedroom with an untouched, made bed and a dresser devoid of personal items. It must be a guest bedroom, because it feels like a hotel room.
She drops her things inside, shutting the door behind her. This is the first night she’s been able to twist and style her hair before bed, and also the first night she’s actually had a good night’s rest.
When she wakes, still inside this cloud-like bed, it takes her a moment to remember that she and the other Guardians just happened to find Joshua fucking Hoffman collapsed on the side of the road—and are now in his house.
Wild.
She jumps out of bed, pulls out her twist-out (and is very happy with how her curls fall once she teases them a bit), gets dressed, and is repacking her backpack when a familiar tingle settles in her chest.
Blythe straightens as soon as she feels it, focusing her attention on the corner of the room.
“Hey Caspian,” she says.
Ghosts aren’t supposed to appear during the day and Caspian looks odd with morning light filtering through him.
Still, Blythe is happy he is here, slouching against a wall and staring at Blythe from the corner of his dark eyes.
“Why are you still bothering me?” he asks.
“Uh,” Blythe scoffs. “Dude, you came in here.” Dude. God, Antonio’s rubbing off on her.
Caspian’s face pinches. “I only came because you were…thinking about me. Or worried about me. Or something.”
“The Guardian of Death isn’t supposed to read minds,” Blythe retorts.
“I don’t,” Caspian says without missing a beat. “You know where I am, I know how you feel.”
Oh. Blythe almost drops her hair conditioner. Her bond with him stretches both ways? Caspian’s been reading her emotions this entire time? Without saying anything? But honestly, Cordelia is a mind reader, so it’s not like Blythe’s not used to people picking around in her brain.
Instead, she asks, “What’s that like?”
“What’s being a living Caspian-tracker like?” he counters.
Blythe chuckles. She’s missed Caspian’s humor. Even though he doesn’t laugh and watches her in silence, Blythe really, truly hopes she can convince him to stay.
“Not that bad actually,” she answers. “But if you can feel what I feel, then you know I’m not upset.”
“I do. And I don’t understand it.” He is unmoving and his gaze is unwavering. He really, truly means that.
Blythe sighs. “They…promised to tell you something about your family, didn’t they?” Caspian nods, but only barely. “And your family’s not…around anymore, are they?”
He hesitates. This is possibly more than he wants to tell her. “Yes.”
“Did they tell you they would give you some information if you helped?”
“I didn’t even know what they were talking about,” he admits. “They said if I turned in the group of kids that came for me and gave them the shard, they would tell me...” he stops. “I didn’t have a choice. I tried to get you to leave. Then I heard about your family and I just thought…I thought I could help. But obviously I made a mistake, and I’m sorry, and I think I should be on my way now.”
Blythe doesn’t even let him take a breath after the end of his sentence. “No,” she says.
His face fin
ally shifts, eyes narrowing into a glare. “Why can’t you just hate me and let me leave so this can be over?”
“Because I think you’re a good person who made a mistake,” Blythe says. “And I’ve made plenty of mistakes myself. Plus, what’re you gonna do? Go back to Lavender Heights? Where you’ll sit in a graveyard and be lonely?”
“I’m sorry if I don’t feel like I deserve to be here anymore,” Caspian spits.
Blythe can’t change his emotions. No amount of talk can erase his own guilt. But she could try to help, at the very least. “You can’t change what you did. But you can change what you will do. Going forward.”
Caspian stares at her as if the words have stumped him.
“Sometimes I read my mom’s self-help books,” Blythe explains.
“Sounds like it.”
There he goes again. Blythe can’t even hold back her smile. “If you actually want to go back to Canada, I won’t force you,” she says. “But I’d miss you if you left.”
Caspian fidgets with the chain on his wrist. He doesn’t speak or react, probably because he is allergic to emotion and would never express anything he couldn’t help. But he doesn’t disappear either. It is as close to a “yes” as Blythe will get.
“Everyone’s downstairs in the kitchen,” he says instead.
Blythe doesn’t push her luck. If he wants to keep this casual, she has to let him. “Sounds like we’re gonna have breakfast.”
“I don’t think I can go down there,” Caspian says as worry creases his forehead.
So, Blythe holds out her hand. “Then we’ll go together.”
Caspian stares down at her, his black eyes vacant. Blythe expects him to reach out and intertwine his fingers with hers, so they can walk through this labyrinthine of a house together—
“I appreciate the kindness of this gesture, but hands tend to get sweaty,” he says.
Blythe drops her hand. “Alright, that’s fair.”
Static crinkles, like an intercom system clicking on. Jay’s voice bursts into the room. “Hey, if your names are Blythe, Antonio, Cordelia, Storm, Daniel, and-slash-or Caspian, could you kindly tell me where you are because I do not feel like walking around to find you.”
