“I killed the old underboss to take his place. I did Ashwood’s dirty work for years.”
“I don’t care about who you were or what you did,” Tavia said. “I know who you are. And it doesn’t matter if you’re Saxony’s family, because you were my family first.”
She took Wesley’s hands from behind his back and the shadows inside him retreated, fading into the air like they feared hurting her.
His magic calmed.
“I’ve already lost so much,” Tavia said. “I couldn’t take it if I lost you too.”
Wesley blinked.
That was all it took.
Tavia was quick and he had forgotten just how much until her free hand went to her pocket and was suddenly in front of him, filled with magic dust.
Wesley blinked and she took that second to blow the dust in his face.
In a weird way, he felt proud that she’d gotten the upper hand—that the student had, in some way, become the master.
Tavia squeezed his hand tighter in hers and Wesley tried to pull away, because he knew he was about to keel over and he didn’t want to take her down with him. Still, Tavia kept her hold strong and her eyes piercing.
“Just relax,” she said.
Wesley did.
He closed his eyes and felt the night smile.
* * *
IT WAS dream dust Tavia had thrown. Wesley knew that much and he welcomed the thought of sleep. The waking world had become far more bizarre than the dream world could ever be.
When Wesley opened his eyes again, he was still in the Uncharted Forest, only Tavia and the others were gone and in their place there was a woman with firewood eyes and a smile to kill and soothe. She had Saxony’s freckles and the same pointed jaw as Zekia, and wore a green dress that flowed behind her like a cape.
“You’re finally home,” the woman said.
Vea Akintola.
His mother.
Wesley had a mother.
“My boy,” she said.
Wesley relished how different those words sounded in her voice. Ashwood loved to call him that when he was being his most terrible.
My boy, I will make you the world.
My boy, you have never doubted me before.
My boy, be very, very careful.
The words were possessive on his shadow lips, as though Wesley belonged to him. His favorite toy. His most treasured lapdog.
They were a claim.
But when Vea spoke them, with delicacy and a soft smile as warm as Creijen summer, Wesley felt newly cherished.
My boy.
A way of telling him that he wasn’t alone anymore.
“Is this real?” Wesley asked.
Vea nodded.
“How can I be sure?”
“Spiritcrafters can connect with the dead,” she said. “I was one, but I didn’t handle it so well. You’ve got a hold on your power in a way I never did. Then again, you were born with your staves, so I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re a quick learner.”
“I’m not a Spiritcrafter. I’m an Intuitcrafter.”
“Magic works in strange ways,” Vea said. “Yes, every Crafter has a specialty. But sometimes, every so often, gifts are inherited. Sometimes, the rules get to be broken, just a little.”
“Either that, or I’m high on dream dust,” Wesley said.
Vea laughed and Wesley thought it was strange that he could miss a sound he’d never even heard until now.
“I think the Many Gods wanted us to talk,” Vea said. “We’re vessels for their will.”
Wesley grimaced.
A vessel was just a fancy word for a pawn and he had quite enough of being the product of someone else’s plans.
“I don’t believe in the Many Gods,” he said. “It’s just a good curse word to throw around.”
Vea shrugged, like she’d expected him to say that.
“You’ve grown so much since I last saw you. Are you happy with it?”
It was not the growing she meant, Wesley quickly realized, but who he had grown into. Wesley didn’t want to reply, a little because he thought Vea already knew the answer. But also because Wesley wasn’t sure whether or not he did.
Yes, Wesley was happy that he’d grown into someone who could protect himself, but that had only been possible because his family had abandoned him.
He was happy to have built himself a home, but now Ashwood had destroyed that.
He was happy to have shared a childhood alongside Tavia, but he didn’t know what their future would be.
Besides, Wesley was less concerned about himself and more curious about Vea and whether or not she was happy with all he had become. He’d never wanted to impress anyone before, Tavia aside, but he felt the urge more strongly than ever now.
Did Vea fear him, like the others?
Was she angry at all he had done?
“Are your sisters well?” Vea asked.
His sisters.
Wesley had sisters.
Zekia. Saxony.
He thought for a moment about that and about what might have happened if they’d grown up together. Saxony was older and Wesley might’ve tried desperately to impress her, while she taught him magic tricks and ruffled his hair like he was some kind of welcome annoyance.
And Zekia.
Many Gods, then there was Zekia.
Would Wesley have looked out for his baby sister and teased her and chided her and fought anyone who hurt her?
He didn’t have the chance to know, because that world didn’t exist and in this one Wesley had sisters, but he had betrayed them instead of protecting them.
One hated him.
The other was driven to madness because of him.
“They’re alive,” Wesley said. “I don’t know how they are. I’ve never asked.”
“That’s not very brotherly.”
“You’ll soon learn I’m not all that familial.”
Vea’s laugh was like a music box and Wesley wanted to bottle the sound and take it back with him to the real world for safekeeping. It was the saddest thing that Vea was dead and nobody would hear that laugh ever again.
“You’ve become a bit of a liar,” she said, the smile still light on her lips. “Luckily you’re still kind. Even if it’s deep down.”
She paused.
And then—
“Deep, deep down,” she said.
Wesley scoffed a laugh.
Vea held out a hand and he walked forward, so that her palm pressed against his cheek, cupping his face. This close, Wesley could see his eyes in her eyes and his curiosity in her furrowed brows.
“Promise me one thing,” Vea said. “Promise not to forget when you go back.”
Wesley put his hand over hers. “I won’t forget you.”
“Not me,” Vea said. “You.”
It was a strange request.
“I know who I am,” Wesley said.
Though he wasn’t sure if that was true anymore. He wasn’t sure if it had ever been true.
“Not who you are,” Vea said. “Remember who you could be. Remember that only you get to decide such things. You made a home and somehow you also made a family. You are not the sum of your past. You are the decisions in your future.”
She smiled at him one last time and then without warning the wind breezed by and she disappeared along with it.
Wesley sighed, closed his eyes, and let the world flood back.
23
TAVIA
There were some moments that lived up to the dream of what they could be and some that fell into the depths of what they never were. Some moments were too weighted and others too easily dismissed.
Tavia had always thought people took moments for granted, even before they happened, trying to guess what they were supposed to be and then discarding them when they became something else. Moments that were fleeting and moments that were stretched to the boundaries of time.
The moment Wesley came back to the forest was one of those and Tavia was too sc
ared it would end in some kind of strange hallucination to bother being disappointed that she hadn’t brought him back herself. She hadn’t been the one to save him from Ashwood and she hadn’t been the one to find him in the maze of the world.
Instead, Wesley had to seek her out, to save himself the way he’d always done.
Tavia hated that.
She wanted Wesley to be able to rely on her. She’d promised him, back when they visited the sins of their past, that they would conquer their demons together. And instead she’d left him to the wildest monsters the night held.
She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
When Wesley’s eyes closed, Tavia guided him as gently to the ground as she could. Though he was heavy and she was tired, she was impressed that she kept him steady enough so he didn’t crack his head on the ground.
“What did you do to him?” Saxony asked.
“Dream dust,” Tavia said. “I figured he needed a time-out. His magic looked like it was ready to get out of hand.”
Saxony nodded, and together with Bastian they heaved Wesley inside and laid him down on a bed. Tavia wondered what he was dreaming about, but more than that she wondered what they were going to do when he woke up.
“So Wesley’s your brother,” she said.
Saxony burst into a laugh and put her head in her hands. “Yeah.”
“Did Karam know?”
“I didn’t even know until an hour ago.”
Saxony glared over to Bastian and her amja, both of whom glared back, albeit sheepishly.
“You’re not related to anyone else, are you?” Tavia asked. “I’m not your wacky second cousin or anything?”
Saxony’s frown dissipated. “You wish.”
Though Tavia really didn’t, because now being related to Saxony meant being related to Wesley and that was just—
“Do you think he’ll hate me when he wakes up?” Saxony asked.
“No more than before,” Tavia said.
Saxony punched her not so lightly on the arm. “That’s not comforting.”
Tavia shrugged and sat down on the bed beside Wesley.
Saxony didn’t follow, but leaned against a nearby wall and looked down at him with guarded eyes. Tavia wasn’t sure if they were guarding against Wesley, or against anyone else who might try to come inside the room. Or even Saxony’s amja and Bastian, who stood by the door like they were wary of stepping not only closer to Wesley but closer to Saxony.
I’m really not interested in your family drama, Wesley had said to Saxony all those months ago, when he’d first recruited her to help take Ashwood down and she’d asked for him to save her sister in return. It was ironic to think about that now.
Wesley stirred and Tavia inched her body a little closer to his, so that when he opened his eyes, he saw her before he saw the puzzle of a lost family.
He shifted a little and then his eyes fluttered open.
“Good dream?” Tavia asked.
Wesley frowned and looked around the room.
“It’s weird to watch people sleep,” he said.
“It’s weird that you’re related to my best friend,” she countered.
Wesley shuffled upward. “Everyone needs to stop looking at me like I’m a time bomb.”
“It’s probably just a habit,” Tavia said. “You’re kind of a wildfire on the best of days.”
“What did you dream about?” Saxony asked.
“My mother.”
His mother.
Not Saxony’s.
He didn’t seem quite ready to put the two together and Tavia couldn’t blame him. Mothers were complicated, especially when they weren’t around anymore. She knew the pain of losing her parents, but the pain of never knowing them at all was different, and she couldn’t imagine the confusion Wesley must have felt knowing those missing parts of his life couldn’t be replaced.
“She said I was powerful enough to be in charge of my own future and that my magic was special.”
“And yet I knocked you out,” Tavia said. “Win for me.”
Wesley shot her a look that told her he’d very much like it if she never brought that up again.
“How are you feeling?” Tavia asked.
“Fine.”
“I sent you to sleep because you looked like you were about to lose control of your magic,” she said. “Are you in control now?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Promise?” Tavia held her palm out for a handshake.
Wesley didn’t take it, but he nodded. “I promise.”
Tavia eyed him with suspicion. “If I turn my back, you’re not going to shoot my best friend?”
“Why, did you forget to take my gun away?”
She hadn’t forgotten and Tavia knew that Wesley could surely already feel the cold absence of the bone gun against his hip.
“Can you forgive us?” Saxony’s amja asked. “Can you still fight by our side in this war?”
Wesley looked like he wasn’t too sure about the forgiveness part, but Tavia knew he’d never turn down a good fight.
“You’re fighting by my side,” Wesley said. “There’s a difference. This was always my battle against Ashwood and for my city.”
Typical Wesley. Tavia didn’t doubt that if he had his cuff links, he would have been polishing them haughtily right now.
“You will come back to us because of her influence,” Saxony’s amja said.
She looked at Tavia.
“You are sulfjgi. Just as I suspected.”
Tavia’s eyes widened and she jumped up from the bed, as far from Wesley as she could.
“Hang on a second,” she said. “Nobody is anybody’s soul mate.”
“You have the string of destiny between you. Magic and death, sorrow and joy, all of it perfectly aligned to bring you together. Creije was supposed to grow Malik’s heart and because of you, it did.”
Tavia looked over to Wesley with a snort. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I mean, for starters, his bow ties are woeful. He collects them and—”
“The girl who only owns black is questioning my fashion sense?” Wesley asked. “Now I know that I’ve hit rock bottom.”
“I’ll hit you with an actual rock if you don’t shut up.”
Tavia glared at him, but her focus shifted down to his lips and damn it if she didn’t stop thinking about that almost-kiss, she might hit herself with a rock too.
“You should be proud, not scared,” Saxony’s amja said. “Everything, from Vea’s death to your own mother’s death, was part of a design to bring you together.”
Now that pissed Tavia off.
She believed in a lot of things, but to suggest that her mother had died for Wesley’s future, or for anything other than Ashwood’s sick plan to perfect his mind magic, was an insult to her memory. And to make out like all the pain Tavia had gone through was for some guy to get his happy ending was an insult to all the hard graft she’d done to get to where she was and survive through everything she had.
She wasn’t just a string in someone else’s destiny.
If Saxony’s amja thought for one second—
“Don’t bring her mother into this,” Wesley said. “The Many Gods didn’t conspire to ruin Tavia’s life just so I’d fall in love with her. Nothing is that simple.”
Tavia’s breath caught on the word love.
Wesley had never said that to her before.
Did he mean it, or was it just an example to poke fun at what Saxony’s amja was saying? If he meant it, then why hadn’t he kissed her back in the tree house when he promised to always protect her?
“Love is a choice,” Saxony’s amja said. “You’re destined to simply impact. Two forces striking to create a wave of change.”
“Well, this wave isn’t going to have anyone else try to control her life,” Tavia said. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
“I think your Kin should have learned better about believing in destiny by now,” Wesley said. “We need to stop basing everythin
g on fate and start using our heads.”
“I second that,” Saxony said, with a bitter glare. “The last time you put stock in destiny you took my brother and my mother from me.”
Her amja looked rightly chastened again.
“So what now?” Tavia asked.
“Now we get our fingers out of our asses and think of a real plan to take down Ashwood,” Wesley said. “If we’re together, then he doesn’t stand a chance.”
Those words were more of a comfort to Tavia than she had expected. So much had gone wrong, hearing Wesley’s faith made her own come back.
Tavia smiled and let out a satisfied exhale. It felt like she had been holding her breath for so long, biding time and worrying about what to do and how to do it. She had a cause but not a direction, a mission but not a way to achieve it, but with Wesley here, every missing thing came back into focus.
Though Tavia wasn’t sure if anyone would dare to call them heroes, when Wesley was by her side, she felt young and unending. She felt magic, not just in her pocket or in the air, but in her heart.
Family was strange that way. It had an uncanny knack for leveling out the world and bringing order to the chaos. Wesley was Saxony’s family, but he was hers, too, and now they were going to take on the world.
She felt sorry for anyone who stood in their way.
24
ZEKIA
You have to trust me, kid. You have to be brave.
Zekia looked into the mirror and smiled, hoping Wesley could see.
She hadn’t thought he would ever speak to her again, let alone puncture her mind like this. But hearing his voice was a relief on her heart, and she was glad he hadn’t abandoned her after all.
That he hadn’t left her alone again.
I’m sorry, Wesley said, reading her mind like always. I didn’t want to go without you.
“But you did anyway.”
Don’t be selfish with my company, he said. You know I’m a very popular guy.
Zekia snorted and scrunched her nose up at the mirror. She didn’t think anyone could hate Wesley, but she’d bet a lot of people wanted to punch him.
Hey, he said. I heard that.
Zekia turned away from the mirror to hide her smile.
She had missed him so much—too much—and now that he’d been able to steal time to speak to her, she could finally share everything she had seen in that vision. In the beautiful future of what could happen if Wesley took power. And the wicked truth of the world if he didn’t.
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