✽✽✽
Addy thought it was a miracle when they all managed to sit down at the table. Stacy and Rosie were still arguing, Baby Lucy was clutching Chicken Little, and their mom and Aunt Meredith were doling out food. When Rosie accidentally-on-purpose flicked a crumb across the table in the general direction of Addy, Addy was immediately prepared to return fire with a salt potato poised on the edge of her fork.
Livy gave Addy a meaningful glance, knowing what she meant to do before she did it, and gave Rosie a tolerant smile. Addy gave her twin a What? I wasn’t going to do anything look.
Addy had read that twins shared their own special language, and she and Livy were no exception. But as much as they could communicate without talking and knew each other inside and out, they were as different as two people could be. Aside from the more obvious physical differences between them, their personalities were complete opposites, too. There was a reason their parents called them Firecracker Addy and Sweet Livy. Addy was always the one causing some kind of mayhem, and Livy was the one who covered for her.
While Livy cut up Baby Lucy’s meat into tiny pieces, Addy contented herself with making funny faces that made their youngest sister giggle and squeal.
Their dad cleared his throat. “Before we eat, we have a surprise for Livy and Addy.”
Addy exchanged a look with her twin. Livy ducked lower in her chair; she hated being the center of attention. Addy, on the other hand, had no problem with being the center of attention. The only issue was that, in a house of seven, she was usually getting it for forgetting to shut the chicken coop or bribing one of her younger sisters to do her chores so she could spend her afternoons tinkering with cars in Fred’s garage.
“Is it a Porsche?” Addy asked.
Addy loved cars. Big ones, old ones, fast ones. Especially fast ones. If she ever became a criminal, she’d want to be the getaway driver.
Aunt Meredith snorted. “That should have been your sixteenth birthday present, not your eighteenth.”
“Good point,” Addy said. She turned to her dad. “You owe me a Porsche and a Lamborghini.”
Gary Deerborn frowned. “You know any car without all-wheel drive wouldn’t make it out of the garage after the first snowfall.”
“Gary, dear,” her mom said, “Addy’s just pulling your leg.”
He paused, one finger still raised in the air while he considered that, and then slowly lowered it.
Livy narrowed her eyes at her twin. Addy shrugged, feeling a bit chastened.
“Now, Livy and Addy,” their mom said, “close your eyes.”
They did.
There was rustling and whispering, and then came the command to open their eyes.
There were balloons tied to Addy and Livy’s chairs and a giant sheet cake with Happy 18th Birthday and Congratulations on Cornell! written in green icing. Addy looked up from the cake and saw that her sisters were wearing identical shirts. The shirts were green with white lettering that read “Ithaca is Gorges.” Even Baby Lucy had one. Her parents and Aunt Meredith were wearing red T-shirts with Cornell University in huge white lettering stretched across the front.
“We’re so proud of you both,” their mom said, wiping away a tear.
“Our little miracles.” Their dad beamed at them.
It was what their parents had called Livy and Addy since they were born. The doctor had told their parents they might not be able to conceive, but then, a year later, the twins were born. Stacy, Rosie, and Baby Lucy had followed.
Their mom handed Livy and Addy their own Cornell T-shirts. Livy immediately pulled hers on over the shirt she was wearing. Addy left hers on the table, forcing a smile on her face as she echoed Livy’s thank you’s.
“Open your presents,” Stacy demanded.
There were two wrapped gifts propped against the kitchen table. Addy picked hers up. It was heavy.
Livy was carefully unsticking the tape from each corner of the package to keep from ripping the paper. Addy tore hers off in half a second. It was her acceptance letter to Cornell, framed. Her eyes skimmed over the words she’d already read.
Dear Adelyne Deerborn,
It is with great pleasure that I write to inform you that you have been accepted for admission to the Cornell University College of Agriculture and Life Sciences….
“Ohmygosh!” Livy exclaimed when she finally unwrapped her gift.
It was the same frame, same politely enthusiastic wording in the acceptance letter, same photocopied signature of the Dean of Admissions. The only difference was that her letter was addressed to “Olivia Deerborn.”
“Thank you!” Livy brushed away a tear before rising to hug their parents.
“Yes, thank you,” Addy said, going to do the same.
Cornell had always been Livy and their parents’ dream. It wasn’t Addy’s.
Livy was the one who fell asleep with open textbooks on her lap. She was the one who spent the little money she had on hardcover copies of Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre. Addy, on the other hand, had always done well on the exams their mother gave them without putting much effort into studying. Her assignments came easily to her, but she got no enjoyment out of her success. She did well in her studies because she had no reason not to, but she didn’t share any of her twin’s passion.
Addy felt a little numb except for the tightness in her chest. She rubbed at the place above her collarbone, trying to release the tension that restricted her breathing every time she thought about the future…the future that didn’t hold even a glimmer of uncertainty. But she kept her smile in place. She could never tell any of them, not even Livy. They wouldn’t understand the way she sometimes felt trapped, like she needed to just get the hell out or she’d go completely crazy….
“And the best part is Cornell’s only an hour away,” her dad was saying, “so we’ll be able to visit whenever you want.”
Her sisters all cheered. Addy tried to breath.
She could never admit to any of them that she felt like something was missing. How could she explain that she felt like she was part of this family, but also separate from them? She could never tell them that she often felt alone even when she was surrounded by all of them.
Addy knew she was being horrible and ungrateful. Her family was wonderful, and they loved her. She loved them back, more than anything in the entire world.
She didn’t understand herself sometimes. She should be happy. And yet, she couldn’t help wondering if this was all there was. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t stop herself from wishing for more, even if she had no idea what more might entail.
Addy pulled on the Cornell University shirt and forced a smile onto her face.
✽✽✽
They dug into the food, and for a few moments, the only sounds were the scraping of forks and knives on plates.
“Mmm.” Addy’s dad stamped his foot on the ground in satisfaction as he chewed. “Sue, this has got to be the best meal I’ve had in my entire life.”
Addy’s mom smiled at her dad. He said those same words every night.
He opened his mouth to speak, and as he did so, Addy mimed his every word along with him.
“Fresh meat from the Jones’, sweet corn from our own fields, and apple pie made with apples from the Davis’.”
Addy even mimicked the hand gestures her father used. She did it all for the benefit of her younger sisters, who snickered into their glasses of milk (fresh from the Browns’ farm, of course). Even Livy was trying not to laugh. Her parents didn’t notice.
“This, my girls,” their dad continued, “is the real American Dream.”
Addy finished with a flourish of her hand that matched her father’s exactly.
Aunt Meredith, who had been watching Addy, snorted.
“Bravo,” she said.
Addy’s father beamed.
“How are your cattle doing, Aunt Meredith?” Livy asked as she cut a single green bean into three even pieces.
Aunt Meredith swallowed her mouthful of
corn and shook her head. “Strange things have been happening lately.” She shoved in another bite. “Last week, there was an earthquake. It was strong enough to wake me.” Aunt Meredith turned to her sister. “Remember that glass vase Grandma Mildred left me? It fell out of the cabinet and shattered.”
“I never liked that vase,” Sue mused.
“Yeah, but the darndest part was that when I mentioned it in town, no one else had felt it. There wasn’t a word about it in the news, either.” She shook her head. “It seemed like it was only on my property.”
Addy saw her parents exchange a worried look, but Aunt Meredith didn’t notice. Her aunt laughed and then elbowed Stacy, who was sitting next to her. “You think that’s why your parents gave me the house?”
“Shh, Meredith,” their mom said.
For some reason Addy couldn’t understand, her mom’s face was pinched with anxiety. Her parents got weird sometimes for no real reason. They were worriers, which was why they homeschooled all of their daughters and never let Addy go visit Aunt Meredith, or go anywhere else for that matter. Addy had learned that when her parents got in one of their worrying states, the only thing to do was wait until the wind shifted and their moods blew over.
“Alright,” their dad said in a too-bright voice. “Let’s clean up.”
Addy saw her aunt raise her eyebrows. Addy’s mom shook her head. Whatever question Aunt Meredith had asked and her mother had answered, her aunt didn’t like the response. Aunt Meredith’s mouth thinned in the way it did whenever anyone said they were voting for a Democrat.
“Sue,” Aunt Meredith began.
Addy’s dad, who almost never raised his voice, said, “Leave it, Meredith,” in a way that brooked no argument.
Aunt Meredith glared at him for a moment, but then she shook her head. Whatever they were talking about, she let it drop. It was probably something about farm boundaries or head of cattle. Addy’s parents didn’t have interesting secrets.
There was a loud thump that made them all turn their heads. Livy had fallen onto the floor, her head cracking against the linoleum.
“Quickly,” their mom said, but there was no need for it.
Addy was already by Livy’s side. She eased her twin’s head off the floor, while Aunt Meredith pushed a folded jacket under her neck to keep Livy from hitting her head again. Stacy was two seconds behind with an ice pack for Livy’s forehead. Addy took her sister’s hand and watched as Livy’s eyelids fluttered and incoherent sounds came from her parted lips.
“It’s okay,” they all said, as soon as Livy stopped jerking and opened her eyes. “You’re okay.”
Livy looked confused for a moment. She was always disoriented after. Sometimes she was scared, and it took a while to calm her down. The seizures used to come only once or twice a month, but lately, they were coming more like once or twice a week. Livy had been through every test the doctors had, but none of them could find any reason for the seizures she’d had ever since Addy could remember.
“How long was I out for?” Livy asked when she found her voice.
“A few seconds,” their dad told her.
“Did I say anything crazy?” Livy asked Addy. She never remembered what had happened during the seizure when she woke up.
“Just had some crazy eyes,” Addy told her, smoothing her sweaty hair off her forehead and squeezing her clammy hand.
“You feeling alright?” their mom asked.
“Fine.” Livy reached up to rub the back of her head and winced. “I just wish I didn’t always have to go head-first.”
“You could wear my bike helmet,” Rosie offered.
“Absolutely not.” Stacy clutched her heart. “That would give her helmet hair.”
Livy gave them an apologetic smile as Addy helped her to her feet.
“Come on girls,” their mom said, giving Livy one more appraising stare before going back to the dishes. “I have to take Aunt Meredith back to the airport, and Rosie and Stacy, you have assignments to do.”
Both of them groaned.
“Why can’t we go to regular school with regular teachers?” Stacy grumbled.
“Because I can teach you better than any teacher,” their mom replied. “And this way, you can be with your sisters and help out around the farm.” It was her standard response any time any of them (usually Addy) complained about being homeschooled.
“Even in regular school, you’d still have homework,” Livy pointed out.
Of all of them, Livy was the only one who actually liked being homeschooled by their mom. Addy was on Stacy’s side and would have preferred a school with actual teachers and students besides her sisters, but any time she’d mentioned it, her mom gave Addy the we’re not having this conversation look. And then she’d assigned Addy more work.
“When I get into college, will you at least buy me a cell phone?” Stacy asked their mom.
“No,” their parents said at the same time.
Stacy rolled her eyes. It was one of their parents’ cardinal rules: no cell phones. They said it took away from the atmosphere of living on a farm. It annoyed Stacy to no end, but Addy didn’t really care. Aside from Fred and Aunt Meredith, she didn’t talk to anyone outside her own house. Addy wouldn’t know what to do with a cell phone even if she had one. Stacy, though, wanted to upload her makeup tutorials on YouTube and was always complaining about not being able to update her Instagram.
“How come Addy and Livy don’t have assignments?” Rosie asked, hefting an earth science textbook away from Baby Lucy, who had been nibbling on its corner.
“Because we’re graduates,” Livy said, smiling at Addy. “We’re college-bound.”
“That’s right,” Addy said, sharing none of her twin’s enthusiasm. “Cornell College of Agriculture, here we come.”
CHAPTER 2
TOL
Tol leaned over the stone wall and looked at the water without really seeing it. He couldn’t tell if the rising mist was coming from the English Channel, or if his vision had gone so bleary it was playing tricks on him.
His left shoulder hurt. It always hurt more when he was exhausted. He massaged the place where his living flesh met the prosthesis. The carbon-fiber arm, the most expensive one money could buy, chafed. The straps holding it in place dug into his chest.
A cold breeze was coming in. The air smelled like rain, but the air in England always smelled like rain. He should go back into the manor where there was a fire burning in the study, but he was too tired to move.
“No luck, I take it?”
Tol knew the sound of his best mate’s voice without having to turn around. When Tol did turn to face him, Gerth was striding up the gravel path in a baggy suit and badly-knotted tie.
“No luck, no leads, no sign of her,” Tol replied.
Gerth and Tol shared the same bronze skin, black hair, and dark eyes characteristic of their people. All of the Chosen kept their hair long, with the men wearing theirs down to their shoulders and the women letting theirs grow down to their waists. Tol kept his just long enough that he could pull it back, but Gerth’s hair was long enough to braid. While Tol was just shy of two meters tall, uncharacteristically large among the Chosen, Gerth was half a meter shorter. When they stood near each other, Gerth had to tip his head back to look Tol in the eye.
“I’m not crazy,” Tol said. “I felt her.”
He just couldn’t find her.
It was infuriating. He’d sense this crackle of energy and know it was her. He’d feel her in his mind. But when he searched for her, when he tried to find her, all he saw was blackness. As quickly as the feeling came, it disappeared again. Sometimes it was too fast for him to even process what had happened until the moment had already passed, and he was left with nothing but the sick feeling that he would be too late.
His most recent trip was to France, where he’d stayed for five days chasing down a lead on the Fount. Tol hadn’t found her. He had nothing to show for the wasted time and Source except for a bad mood and
aching shoulder.
He’d been feeling the Fount more often since his eighteenth birthday, but maybe that was just his subconscious panicking about how little time he had left to find her. If only he could keep the connection inside him alive long enough to see more than just that empty black.
“We’ll find her, Tol,” Gerth said, giving him a sympathetic look. “Gods know—”
“The gods don’t know anything,” Tol said with a venom he hadn’t known he felt. “They’re dead.”
“They’re not dead, they’ve just abandoned us.” Gerth leaned over the wall beside him. “After eighteen years, you’ve gotta wonder if it’s all—”
“Useless?” Tol supplied. “A waste of time?”
Gerth gave him a wry smile. “I’d hardly call the survival of our entire race a waste of time.”
Shame heated Tol’s face. Gerth’s parents had died in the Crossing.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“No worries, mate.” Gerth elbowed him. “Sometimes I think the Celestial is playing the greatest hoax in two worlds on us and just made up that rubbish about the Fount.”
“Some hoax that’d be.” Tol dug the fingers of his real hand into the stone wall, feeling the grit bury into his skin.
“People are getting restless.” Gerth played with the necklace he wore. The glass vial hanging on the metal chain looked almost the same as Tol’s, except it was smaller.
Tol winced. “I know. My parents think there’s going to be a coup if we don’t find the Fount soon.”
“We’ll find her,” Gerth said, his confident words belied by the way he twisted and untwisted his necklace.
“The scholars think I should have been able to sense her by now.” Tol clenched his fist.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Gerth said. “Carrying the weight of a whole world on your shoulders isn’t something I’d wish on my worst enemy. You’re doing everything you can.”
Tol wasn’t listening. He was staring at the glass vial on Gerth’s necklace. There was less liquid in it than there had been the last time they were together. It was barely half-full.
Mags & Nats 3-Book Box Set Page 107
