Maray didn’t react as she noticed that Jemin was rolling his eyes.
“Beautiful,” she said to none of them in particular—and not meaning the bracelets at all.
Heck retracted his arm from her grip and patted Jemin’s shoulder as if pitying him. “See—told you so.”
Maray involuntarily chuckled as she watched his carefree grin spread wide. Under different circumstances, it would have been infectious, but not like this. Her father was in Allinan, trying to find a way to bring Rhia down, and all she could do was sit and wait and hope he would return safely. Something in her stomach tightened. She had been to Allinan—once, but that had been enough. She had seen the dangers, the Yutu, impostors who could fool you by wearing someone else’s appearance, that spark of magic within her, which had made the purple crystal sizzle—
Even if her father managed to help Langley to put together a group of revolutionaries, would it be enough?
“Isn’t there anything we can do?” she asked into the slowly darkening room, earning confused looks from Jemin and Heck alike. “If we were back in Allinan, maybe I could use my magic to help—”
“Absolutely not.” It was Jemin who shook his head wildly, making his caramel locks fly out of the ponytail at the back of his head.
“Why?” Heck asked, earning a forbidding glare from him.
“I promised her father I would keep her safe,” Jemin hissed. He looked like he wanted to strangle Heck for even questioning that they had to stay put.
Heck’s grin died on his lips, and he hooked his thumbs in his weapons belt. “Promised you would keep her safe, not promised you’d stay here,” he interpreted.
“Promised to protect her,” Jemin specified. “But actually, I’d rather have her here and safe than playing the hero.”
Something about the way the boys were eyeing each other made her want to face a Yutu rather than interfere in their discussion.
“I need a shower,” she announced unenthusiastically and headed to her bedroom to grab a fresh set of clothes from one of the moving-boxes.
Heck and Jemin stopped their conversation, both a mixture of anger and intrigue on their faces.
“I’d offer to come with you and make sure nothing happens to you in the bathroom, but I am sure Jem already has a plan for that, too.” A half-smile sat on his face, his humor still in place, but something was breaking between the two of them. She could almost feel the air grow colder around them.
“I survived making tea; I’ll survive a shower,” was all Maray said to that as she moved past them, suddenly eager to be alone.
She didn’t react as their footsteps followed her to the bathroom door, but she closed it and locked it, ready to shut out everything for once. She had just thought it before: there was nothing much she could do. Her father was there while she was here. Even her mother was there, given that she was still alive. There was a chance of seeing her again, and that felt like enough justification to throw all of the caution her father had taught her over board and set out to find her. And all of it still sounded insane to her.
With a sigh, she turned on the water, sliding out of her sweaty clothes. She didn’t wait for the water to warm up but, in a last attempt to wake herself up from this dream, stepped into the cold shower.
The water stung on her skin, and as she held her head under it, it didn’t drown out the voices outside the bathroom door. And as the water got gradually warmer, she listened more closely. They were Heck’s and Jemin’s voices—two voices that had become familiar, and one of them had grown on her. Jemin’s always so serious voice, woven from layers of emotions she couldn’t pin down, all hidden behind his cold facade.
He had let her glimpse through it—intentionally or unintentionally, she wasn’t quite sure. But what she had seen only made her able to guess how much more there was to that person, how much hardship he must have experienced in his life, and just how much he needed someone he could let all guards down with. It was then that she knew that she didn’t want to wake up—even if most of this was a nightmare—or he would be gone, too.
As she stepped out of the shower a minute later, her eyes fell on Corey’s clothes, which were still sitting folded on the shelf by the door. Underneath it, on top of the washing machine, her jeans and Norwegian sweater were waiting for her to put on, alongside a pair of moss green socks. She dried off and slid on her underwear, but when her hand reached out for her clothes, they didn’t seem quite right any longer. Things had changed. Her whole life had changed. It was up to her whether or not she was going to continue tagging along in it like a stage extra or if she was going to try to make a difference in her own story.
Her fingers closed around Corey’s Thaotine pants, and it was like slipping on a new skin, one that fit her new situation, an armor, and she would need one with what she was about to do.
As she reopened the bathroom door, the boys fell silent, both of them staring intensely. Maray couldn’t tell if she had interrupted them mid-sentence in a sensitive topic or if it was her wet, tangled hair that caused that reaction.
She eyed Jemin, wanting to say something to make the silence go away, but his eyes were grazing her shape head to toe with a look she had never seen on him. She couldn’t exactly tell if he was pleased with what he saw or if he was appalled. Judging by the grimace on his face, it could have been either.
The vent thrummed in the background like a bizarre soundtrack.
Maray lowered her gaze to the floor and straightened her sweater, realizing that the light-blue and cream of the knitting clashed with Corey’s shirt she was wearing underneath. In that moment, she felt very exposed despite being covered to the collarbone, but the corset underneath let her feel every tiny curve of her still forming teenage body.
“Are we going somewhere?” Heck wondered, breaking her moment of self-consciousness and reminding her of what it was she needed to do.
“Heck, Jemin…” She addressed them both by their names, needing them to really listen. “I need to go back to Allinan.”
Jemin opened his mouth to object, but she held up a finger to stop him. “I know what you are going to say, Jemin. That it is too dangerous, that I promised to stay here. That you promised to protect me.” She watched Jemin’s face as it slowly composed itself as she spoke while his eyes flickered with disagreement. “It doesn’t matter,” she stated and looked at Heck for help, getting the grin she had hoped he’d have ready for her. “This is my father taking on my grandmother, and all of that is to keep me safe.” She shook her head. “I cannot allow it. I need to do something.”
Heck seemed sold on the idea without needing a pep talk, but Jemin couldn’t find his enthusiasm for obvious reasons.
“If you are not helping me, I will find another way. I will go to Allinan, and I will help my father.”
Jemin
Foolish girl. He wanted to say it but just couldn’t bring himself to add another scar to her already bleeding self. She didn’t know what she had gotten herself into.
If what Cardrick Langley said was true, Queen Rhia had been in hiding from the world since the first breach of dimensions for a reason. It had been her who had opened the rift, and according to him, that had left its mark on her more than anyone could realize. She was decaying, slowly and gradually; her flesh was falling apart. All that kept her from the grave was Princess Laura’s blood. It made her immortal, but she needed continuous treatment. That was why all the blood reserves were stored at the warlock quarters. Rhia couldn’t go anywhere unless disguised in the illusion of a different appearance; and she liked to choose to look like her youthful self—like Maray.
He glanced at Maray, struggling to see her as someone other than Queen Rhia. Her messy, half-dried hair helped. It hung in wavy strands to her shoulders and covered parts of her arms. She was wearing a mixture of Allinan clothes and this-world garments. It was an endearing combination that let him forget for a second that Heck was with them.
“There is no other way,” he said inste
ad of saying what was really on his mind.
What use would it be for her to get involved over there? The revolutionaries wouldn’t necessarily trust her. Her father would be long gone to wherever Langley had sent him, and Langley—
“Then you don’t have another choice,” Maray informed him with a smug expression, reaching for his bracelet. “How does this thing work?”
He didn’t pull his arm back but let her grab him, fastening her hand on his wrist with his free hand to lock her in place. There was something hard on her index finger. The Cornay ring. He glanced down and spotted the Cornay ‘C’ engraved in the band of silver.
Maray eyed him impatiently, not attempting to pull free her hand from his grasp. “Heck will help me,” she threatened with a smirk that made her look more like an evil queen than Rhia had looked. He involuntarily flinched. She didn’t know it yet, but she had the rare ability to hit him right in the heart with her words. There was only one other person—Heck. But, he didn’t have the same kind of feelings for his best friend. With Maray, there was something different. He didn’t even want to get into that zone of friendship. He wouldn’t allow it, or it would destroy him. The moment she realized that he had troubles controlling his emotions around her, she would run from him—and she would have every reason to. He was a soldier, barely tolerated at court, and had a history of betraying people’s trust. All the spying he’d done as a child… And she would one day sit on the throne. The throne he had sworn loyalty to. Ultimately, he was her subject. There could never be anything more than that.
“I will help you,” he gave in, reminded that she was part of what he had sworn loyalty to. The promise to her father was secondary when it came to the wishes of the Cornay family. “On one condition.”
Maray’s face lit up with hope, making his stomach flutter. All his life as a soldier, he had dreamed of getting a hint of gratification from the queen—until she’d threatened his life—and now, there was the actual princess of Allinan in all her beauty, like a raw diamond, asking him for help, demanding it from him. Who was he to deny it?
“Name it.” Maray held his gaze, hand firm on his wrist, determined to do whatever it took to save her family. She was negotiating. But not the way a diplomat did—considerately and gracefully—but the way a monarch did, someone who had the world at her feet and the power to give whatever someone asked if she pleased.
Beside him, Heck had fallen unusually silent. He didn’t narrate their conversation with jokes or inspired statements but watched with tension to see what Jemin would do.
“I make the plan, and I come with you every step of the way.”
“Like a bodyguard?” Maray asked, lips twitching with something other than amusement. He’d have liked to think that she enjoyed the idea of having him around that closely but pushed it aside before it could affect his focus.
“Like a guard who promised your father to keep you safe.” He heard his own voice, emotionless and hard, and for the first time he could remember, he didn’t pride himself in his self-control but was appalled by how he had to hide himself behind a wall of unconcern.
He loosened the grip on her hand, and she slid her fingers out from under his palm, leaving a trace of heat on his skin.
“All right,” she agreed with a rough voice, stepping past him and Heck and opening a cupboard by the entrance door. “What’s the plan?” She pulled out a pair of black boots and slipped them on. They had flat, thick soles with a strong profile, well-suited for what would be expecting them in the other world.
“In the original plan, Heck was supposed to be there, in Allinan, when we arrive,” he started.
“But I decided I’d rather come get you both than wait until you make up your mind whether or not it is safe to go,” Heck finished for him.
“So, are you going to take me to Scott like the original plan suggests?” Maray asked over her shoulder, pulling open a drawer and extracting a slate grey scarf. “Or do we have other plans?” She lifted her thick, black hair, making Jemin cringe as she exposed the delicate structure of her neck before she wound the scarf around it. Whatever the new plan was going to be, it had to keep her away from anything dangerous. He had seen her fighting Heck. Heck had been insanely restrained not to tell her how poor her skills were and that she wouldn’t last for half a minute in any armed confrontation. And if it wasn’t fighters, it could be a Yutu snapping that fragile neck of hers with less than two teeth.
“We are going to try something else,” he stalled and glanced at Heck for support. He needed a moment to think.
Heck didn’t let him down. “We can’t go to Scott, obviously, or he’ll deliver you right to Rhia.” Heck theatrically twisted his mouth at her name. “I can’t believe I used to like her—you know, as a queen, all family issues put aside…” he babbled. “I used to think she was a great monarch. And most of Allinan still does. Had I known she was responsible for the first breach of dimensions—”
“Heck,” Jemin reigned his friend in.
“She was responsible?” Maray dropped her hands from her scarf and turned around.
Wide, lapis-lazuli eyes stared at them, asking for the truth. And who was he not to give her the truth?
“She was the one to open the rift and let everything evil cross borders. She was also the one to pin it on—” He stopped mid-sentence.
“On your father.” To his surprise, Maray understood. “Rhia was the one to pin it on your father. That’s why he had to die?”
Jemin nodded, ashamed for some reason, feeling small before her even though he towered over her by at least one head. When Langley had told him about his father being a hero, at first it hadn’t made sense. But now, he understood it all. He understood why he had made Jemin spy on the palace and why the queen had been so desperate to get rid of his father. He realized that Queen Rhia potentially didn’t know how much of the truth Jemin knew. It made him a variable at her court that could start a wildfire if not properly controlled. That was probably the reason why he was still there at court. ‘Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies even closer.’
Jemin had never considered himself an enemy of the crown. But, as things were settling in, he felt the way he was getting ready to bring Rhia down. Maray, studying his face with pity, was the last trigger to make up his mind.
“Yes.” It was one simple word, but it meant more than an answer to what she had asked him. It meant that he was going to fight for her to make sure no innocent was going to be punished ever again by a queen who was secretly planning to send the worlds into a spiral of darkness.
He glanced at Heck and saw that he understood, too.
Maray
Maray’s hair had dried by the time they had decided on a plan. Heck and Jemin had discussed options: where to cross into Allinan, who to let in on their plan, and where to go first. Eventually, she had rummaged through the fridge for food and had heated up pre-made Bolognese and cooked pasta in preparation for their departure.
Now they were eating in silence, both boys brooding in their own thoughts. The look was more natural on Jemin’s face while Heck seemed unnaturally dark.
Jemin had washed up, and the dust and dirt were gone from his face and hands, making him look almost surreally beautiful.
As she watched them eat, she wondered if her father would agree with her sudden change of heart. Probably not, but what choice did he have but to accept it?
“Langley won’t be amused,” said Heck between two mouthfuls of pasta.
“What can he do about it?” Jemin commented and said as if in and afterthought, “If it were up to me, we wouldn’t be going at all.”
Maray didn’t understand why he was going along with her request now when initially he had begged her to stay here. Something was different about him. As if he’d had a realization, only she couldn’t tell what it was he’d realized. His features were smooth as always, making it hard for her to read anything from his face, and his eyes were on Heck.
“Langley first so we kno
w how your father is—”
“I still find it hard to believe Ambassador Gerwin Johnson is your father,” Heck interjected with a grin.
Jemin ignored him. “Then, we get Corey. She shouldn’t be alone with Feris. Who knows what he will do to her if he finds out she knew about you…”
“Agreed.” Maray was satisfied that she could return Corey’s kindness by getting her out of harm’s way.
“And then—”
“I am still not sure that’s the right way to proceed,” Heck voiced concern, the dark cloud of brooding back on his face as he questioned their plan. “An illusion? She doesn’t even know how to use her magic, let alone control it.”
“It’s the only way that will work when risking her life,” Jemin shut him up.
“It’s okay, Heck.” Maray laid her hand on his forearm, and his chocolate-brown eyes locked on hers. “Langley will help me. He is an experienced warlock, and if everything goes according to plan, no one will ever find out I was even there. My dad will never need to know, either.”
“Corey might even go with us, once she learns the whole truth,” Jemin added, sounding less convinced than he looked. “Everything will be fine.”
The plan to disguise her in an illusion of one of the palace guards and secretly sneak into the queen’s quarters was madness, but it was most likely the only way it would work to get Rhia dealt with without having to risk anyone else’s life. That had been a condition Maray had laid out while planning, and the boys had agreed. If they got to the queen before the revolutionaries even invaded the palace, no one needed to get hurt—at least that was their hope.
When they were done eating, night had fallen, and there was little left to prolong their stay. Maray took the empty plates and put them in the dishwasher one by one.
Jemin watched her with weary eyes. “What is that for?”
Two Worlds of Provenance Page 15
