Unblemished
Page 32
He begins speaking but the sound is warbled, as if coming from underwater. Mounting a foot on Ky’s thigh, Jasyn raises the bloody blade high in the air. His back is turned toward me.
That’s when I see it.
An aurorean swirl corkscrews from Ky’s open wound. Floating. Hovering. It’s like nothing I’ve ever witnessed. Transparent but opaque. Blinding but impossible not to look upon. The color-infused light moves, twirling as it glides in ribbons through the air. Stopping directly above my body. Does Jasyn notice? Am I the only one seeing this?
I scan the arena. All eyes remain fixed on the Void’s vessel.
When my gaze finds Joshua, a swirl identical to the one that emerged from Ky rises from the Ever’s body. It joins the light hovering over me. Intertwines with it. Completes it.
The Verity. Must be. But it came from both boys—men. Ky and Joshua were two halves of one whole. Both were the Verity’s vessel.
How is this possible? What does it mean that pieces of the Void and Verity could coexist in one person?
Reaching, I move toward the rainbow. My fingers graze its surface, my skin sparking, glowing, then dimming. Still, I feel nothing. Circling my body, I examine the thing from all sides, unable to deny or explain the way it draws me. Suddenly I have to know what it feels like. Because I crave feeling. A sensation. A breeze. Anything.
I step into it—the light transporting me like a Threshold.
A rush of wind, similar to what I felt when I kissed Ky, expands my lungs. Filling them. Making them whole. An ache punches my chest, so strong and so deep, I can’t help but laugh. Because I feel it. Life. Love. Death. Sorrow.
The Verity has merged with my soul.
Ky sacrificed himself for Ebony. He’s rewritten the ending. No time to reason or think or calculate why in the Reflections the Verity would choose my heart as its new home. Because now I have to finish this. No backing down. No second-guesses. No hesitation.
I will follow through.
My gaze sweeps between Ky and Joshua. So different. So undeniably irreplaceable. Mom’s out there too. Who will become the Void’s new prison?
Eyes open and pulse returned to an even cadence, I peel myself off the sand. So strange. I’m conscious the Verity resides within, but the differences are minute, nearly indistinguishable. Clearer vision. Fear less difficult to suppress. Yet I’m still myself, utterly human. This power, this gift, does not belong to me. It exists to contain the Void. Now, so do I.
My grandfather’s back remains turned. The audience notices me first. A child pointing. A woman with a hand to her heart. From the corners of my vision I register the stir of Joshua’s leg. The rise and fall of Ky’s chest. Each of us canceled out the other. My life for Ky’s, Joshua’s for mine. I still have no idea if I gave him a Kiss of Infinity earlier, but he must’ve given me one. When I rose, Joshua’s Ever blood took over, reviving him too. We need each other, the three of us.
Unstrapping the mirrorglass blade at my ankle, I grip it with certainty. Five feet. Three. When I can smell the arrogant fumes wafting from my grandfather’s person, I raise both arms, aiming straight for his heart.
The knife plunges. It passes through flesh. Muscle. My gut churns. Bile rises.
Jasyn’s sword falls. He coughs. Staggers. Left. Right. Then sinks to the ground.
I release the hilt. If I don’t withdraw the mirrorglass, the wound will be unable to heal.
A circlet of crimson crowns the blade in Jasyn’s back. For a fleeting moment, nothing happens. The crowd doesn’t react. Joshua and Ky don’t get up. My grandfather doesn’t move.
And then the strangest thing occurs. Jasyn breathes. Gulp after gulp of air, inhaling, and gasping, and exhaling again, as if this is his first taste of oxygen in decades. He rotates, grabs my wrist, and drags me to the ground beside him, the collision sending pins and needles into my shins and knees. The soles of my feet.
“Thank you,” he croaks. His eyes roll back. Head lolls. He lies in a crumpled heap before me. I watch his façade fall away, the handsome, regal exterior he wanted everyone to see. His skin is ash, darkness leaking like ink from his veins, staining his skin. His eyes are white as marble, the lids around them red and swollen and raw. Inch by inch the Void retracts, melting into itself, as if being absorbed by something outside. Then it’s nothing at all.
I lift my head, scanning the Soulless scattered throughout those present. A similar phenomenon affects them, the color returning to their skin, the light restored to their eyes. I experience a moment of panic. Because it isn’t just the Void within Jasyn I’m containing—it’s the darkness as a whole.
My eyes find the sky, soft light consuming the night. The room swirls. The arena. Everything false peels away as the Void finds its new prison. As if awakened from a spell, the crowd applauds, hugging and crying and celebrating the joyous ending they’ve all been waiting for.
But I ignore them. Just as I alone beheld the Verity’s true form in death, I cannot see the Void’s raw state in life. Who will it choose? Which of those I love will have to pay the price for Jasyn’s demise?
Joshua’s at my side, drawing me into his arms, helping me to stand. He kisses my hair and pushes it off my face. I’m alert enough to register he’s still himself.
Which means . . .
I trip over my own feet to get to Ky, breathing and alive, but still lying on his back. His hands are pressed to his soaked middle and his eyes stare at the sky. A lazy snow drifts toward us. Sticking in our hair and eyelashes. Melting into our skin.
“I’m sorry,” I spit, seethe, sob. My chest . . . so tight. Hard to breathe. I did what I had to do, but now, in the aftermath, I can’t help but feel a wave of regret wash over me.
What have I done?
“Don’t be.” His eyebrows cinch. “Now I know for sure.” And then he smiles. It’s weak and doesn’t meet his eyes, but it’s a smile just the same.
Joshua shouts behind me. Then I’m being hauled in another direction.
Guardians surround Ky, hoisting him up, carrying him away. Where are they taking him?
I don’t know what comes next. My head grows light. Stomach churns. Stumble, slip, fall. Strong arms scoop beneath my neck and knees, lifting, supporting. I fight the compulsion to pass out, but the urge is far too tempting. The curtain closes. The audience takes its leave.
It is finished.
THIRTY-NINE
Changed
Eliyana.”
Blink. A blurred face above me.
“She’s opening her eyes.”
Wince. Ow. My head. Who’s talking so loudly?
“Get some water.”
Whimper. My bones are lead beneath my skin.
“Lift her head.”
Cold. Something cold and wet at my lips.
“Not too fast.”
Spit. Sputter. Choke.
I roll my head, force myself to arrive at full consciousness. Where am I? A dimly lit room. Heat on my face. Lavender and vanilla. A fire nearby. And . . .
Oh—
“She’s awake! Hurry, get Nathaniel!” Mom barks orders like a drill sergeant. Her face slides into focus above me.
“Mom?” I lift my hand to my head. “What happened?”
“You about sent me to my grave is what happened.” Her harsh tone makes me smile.
I sit, glance around. Lavish décor. A fire crackling in the hearth. Mom’s suite or one identical to it. “What happened? Where’s Joshua? And Ky—?”
“No more worrying, or you’ll make yourself sick again. My brave, brave girl.” Mom fusses over me, fluffing my pillow, feeling my forehead with the back of her hand. “We’ve been taking shifts watching you.”
“Who?”
“Makai and me mostly.” She looks over her shoulder at the door. “Sometimes Robyn or Stormy.”
Robyn was here? That means Joshua healed her. I never asked. Warmth spreads across my chest. “What about Joshua?” Why isn’t he here?
Mom’s gaze shifts.
He needs me.
Mom pats my hand. “Joshua’s fine.” A close-lipped smile. “Lots to do. The rebels are making their way from the Haven, returning to their former homes throughout the provinces. Ebony’s awaiting trial. Guardians have been dispatched to round up threats to the crown such as Isabeau and Gage. My father”—she swallows before continuing—“he’s been buried in the cemetery here on the grounds. By the time the knife was removed, he’d already bled too much.” The slightest hint of sadness resides in the creases of her eyes. “Joshua’s been very busy tending to his duties as the interim king.”
“Interim king?”
“Yes. You are the Verity’s vessel now, darling. Once you are well . . .” She pauses, as if allowing me to mentally fill in the blank.
My mouth forms an O. “I’m the queen.”
“I don’t want you to worry about that now,” she says. “There is plenty of time before your official coronation in the spring. You must take this season to rest. Joshua has trained for this. He has things under control for now.”
“And Ky?”
One, two, three beats. Why won’t she meet my eyes?
“Mom?”
“Nathaniel took care of his wounds. He’s okay.”
I rip the covers off, not caring I’m only wearing underwear and an oversized tunic. “Great. Just tell me where he is.” I need to apologize for our argument at the ball. To thank him for his sacrifice. To see if he can possibly forgive me for ending his life. For making him a slave to the Void.
And the Verity. Did he know it was part of his soul? Did Joshua? Did Jasyn? All the unexplained details make sense now. The reason the Void couldn’t take over before. Why it stayed secluded to Ky’s arm. Even if I hadn’t kissed him, the Verity would’ve shoved the Void away. I touch my right cheek. My mirrormark didn’t remain because of Joshua’s love. It stayed because of Ky—the Verity’s other vessel. His Kiss of Infinity allowed me to go on as a Mirror even after my link to Joshua broke.
I open my mouth to tell Mom, but something holds me back. Until I speak with Ky, this must remain my secret. I’ve broken his trust once. I won’t do it again.
Mom puts a hand on my shoulder, pushing me back in that gentle way of hers. “You can’t see him.”
“Why not?”
Knock, knock.
I cinch the covers around me, smooth my hair. How long have I been out? I must look like a wreck.
Mom eyes me as if making sure I’m decent before she calls, “Come in.”
Nathaniel enters, offers a tight smile, and meanders to my side. “How are you feeling?” He wraps an arm around Mom.
“I feel fine.” Irritation bubbles, then pops. “Will everyone please stop tiptoeing around me?”
They exchange a hesitant glance, and then Nathaniel says, “I overheard your conversation. You cannot see Kyaphus. He left as soon as I released him from my care. Said he needed to find his sister.”
The blood drains from my face. Of course he would go after Khloe, but why didn’t he come to me first? As long as I’m living, he—the Void—answers to me. How can I help him suppress the darkness inside if I don’t know where he is? I should’ve gone with him. I’m still not sure how this whole Verity-Void relationship works, but the only way to find out is to get through it together.
My worried expression must give me away because Mom’s eyes fill with compassion. She squeezes my hand.
I swallow the too-big lump lodged in my throat. I hardly know Ky. But somehow he got under my skin, became a constant during a time when I just needed a friend. Someone to listen and care and see. Finally I swallow and ask, “And Joshua? Can I at least see him?”
“Soon.” Nathaniel relays the information as if it’s common knowledge, as if repeating something he’s been told.
I wait for them to say more. A disconcerting silence follows.
“Give us a minute, Nate?”
Nate?
“As you wish.” Nathaniel exits the way he came.
Mom perches on the mattress, rests her hands on her barely showing stomach. “I suppose we have a lot to talk about.”
I gaze out the window at the other end of the room. A layer of white ices the forest beyond, daylight turning the snowflakes to diamonds. “I know why you did it.” I keep my attention on the trees. White. Pure. “I saw your face. You were so scared for me. If I had a child, I would’ve done the same thing.”
“You remember?” She shakes her head. “Of course you do. You’re part Scrib, like me.”
I nod. “I hear your voice sometimes too. The things you’ve taught me, all the encouragements and reminders, they’ve stayed with me. And when I’m alone or frightened or all feels lost, the memories of your words come back to me. Then I don’t feel so afraid.”
“When the mark appeared”—Mom swallows—“I knew you were like her—Queen Ember. Makai helped us escape, vowed to protect us. I made him swear we’d never tell you who you were. He agreed, sealing the promise with a—”
“Kiss of Accord.” I turn my gaze on her.
A sad smile crinkles her eyes. “Yes. And then Joshua showed up the year you turned fifteen. I begged Makai to make him leave, but Joshua insisted he only had your best interests at heart. So he stayed. I can’t remember when I stopped being afraid of him—of what his connection to you meant.”
I reach over and cover her hand with mine. We sit that way awhile, sharing a comfortable quiet.
Questions raid my thoughts. Why can’t Joshua see my mark? What if his soul hadn’t been linked to mine? Would we still have met? So much of our relationship feels . . . unnatural. Like a spell. What happens now? Where do we go from here?
I chew the inside of my cheek.
Mom pats my knee and rises. “I’ll let you rest.”
The moment she’s gone I leap from the sheets, cross to the wardrobe in search of clothes. I’ve been sleeping too long. I glance outside again, at the awaiting day. No more hiding. No more shadows.
Time to face the sun.
The fresh snow is air beneath my boots. The sky is bright blue, a sight I never thought I’d see this side of the Second. I walk the castle grounds alone. Unguarded. Unhindered. Free.
I’ve always adored the whiteness of winter. How the flakes transform everything they touch, dusting the world in fresh white, somehow managing to silence even the most intrusive noise. When I was younger, I’d stand on our front stoop. Face the sky. Let the frozen flecks melt on my skin. In my imagination, each powdery kiss washed my birthmark as clean as the city around me. Everything used to center on my ugliness, on my desire to be anyone but myself.
Now I’m learning to recognize my own beauty. An idea that’s foreign but welcome. If true love begets a change, perhaps that’s where I need to begin. How can I fulfill my purpose as a Mirror unless I can first love myself?
I meander toward the edge of the leveled hill, passing Jasyn’s rose garden. Will blossoms adorn its thorns come spring? I pause at the waist-high wall, observing the snowcapped trees below. Their needles have turned evergreen, their trunks now a lovely shade of bark. What will the forest be called now? To keep its current name seems unfitting. Forest of Night? More like Forest of White.
I move left and walk through an archway, trudging down the path I’m sure rests somewhere under the snow. Near the hill’s bottom, I find an iron bench nestled beneath a tree. I sit, shrugging my shoulders to my ears. Tilting my head back against the trunk and closing my eyes, I breathe in the quiet. I can’t control the melody that slips from my lips then. Ember’s poem combined with a piece becoming more ingrained in my soul with each inhale. The lyrics release on fogged breaths. After the final note I remove my hands from my peacoat pockets. Rub them together. Blow.
“Allow me?”
M
y eyes flash open.
Joshua stands a few feet off. I rise from the bench and he meets me, covers my hands in his, exhales a hot breath onto my icy skin. “I thought I’d find you here.” A smile tugs at his lips.
I can’t hide my mirroring grin. “And why is that?”
“Just a feeling, that’s all.” He shrugs in that boyish way of his. “The forest is the closest thing the Second’s got to Central Park.”
I study our hands. My grin falters.
“The song you were singing?” He cocks his head, questioning. “The rose beyond the thorns. Did you write it?”
I tell him about his mother. How she was a Mirror, like me.
He listens, his cheeks lifting.
As I speak of Ember, my thoughts drift. “Joshua. About Ky—”
His lips flatten. “You don’t have to worry about him. He’s gone to find his sister. He may be the Void’s vessel now, but he can’t hurt anyone as long as you live. That’s all that matters.”
But what about his hurt? His pain? I pull away and an ache deepens inside me, burrowing its way into my gut. “I did that to him. I guess it makes sense he wouldn’t say good-bye.” He must hate me.
Neither of us addresses the extraordinary elephant in the forest. We both know the truth but somehow can’t find the words to ask the question on both our minds. If the Void enters the one closest to its captor, why didn’t it take Joshua? Why Ky? I still don’t know if I gave Joshua a Kiss of Infinity, though it’s clear he gave me one. Questions, questions, questions.
No answers.
Joshua’s shoulders bristle beneath his navy-blue coat. “So where do we go from here? You will be crowned queen come spring. Anything you want is yours.”
What do I want? “I think I’d like to throw a wedding.” I try to veer toward a lighter topic. “Mom and Makai deserve a proper ceremony with family and friends after all they’ve been through.”
“A wedding, huh?” He nods, the spark returned to his eyes. “I think that can be arranged.” Then he takes my hand. And kneels.