“I don't understand. You're all here, but so were Hunting and Abraham. How is that possible? The curse —” Lena faltered.
“You possess both Light and Darkness, a possibility the curse did not account for. None of us did.” There was pain in Gramma's voice. She was hiding something, and I sensed things were more complicated than she was letting on. “I'm just glad you're all right.”
The sound of water splashing echoed through the cavern. I turned in time to see Ridley's blond and pink hair whip around the corner. Link was right behind her.
“Guess I really am a Mortal.” Ridley said it with her usual brand of sarcasm, but she looked relieved. “You always have to be different, don't you? Way to go and screw things up again, Cuz.”
I heard Lena's breath catch, and for a second she didn't move.
It was all too much. Macon was alive, when Lena believed she'd killed him. She had Claimed herself and remained both Dark and Light. As far as I could tell, she had broken the moon. I knew Lena would fall apart moments from now. When she did, I would be there to carry her home.
Lena grabbed Ridley and Macon, practically strangling them in her own kind of Caster circle, seeming neither Light nor Dark. Just very tired, but no longer very alone.
6.22
The Way Back Home
I couldn't sleep anymore. I had crashed hard last night, on the familiar pine-board floor of Lena's room. We had both passed out, still wearing our clothes. Twenty-four hours later, it was weird to be in my own room, in a bed again, after sleeping between tree roots on muddy forest floors. I had seen too much. I got up and shut my window, in spite of the heat. There were too many things out there to be afraid of, too many to fight.
It was a wonder anyone in Gatlin slept at all.
Lucille didn't have that problem. She was kneading a pile of dirty clothes in the corner, fluffing up her bed for the night. That cat could sleep anywhere.
Not me. I flipped over. I was having a hard time getting comfortable with comfortable.
Me, too.
I smiled. Floorboards creaked, and my door swung open. Lena was standing in my doorway, in my faded Silver Surfer T-shirt. I could see the tip of pajama shorts underneath. Her hair was wet and she was wearing it down again, the way I liked it best.
“This is a dream, right?”
Lena closed the door behind her, the slightest twinkle in her gold and green eyes. “Do you mean your kind of dream or mine?” She pulled up the covers and climbed in next to me. She smelled like lemons and rosemary and soap. It had been a long road for both of us. She tucked her head under my chin and leaned against me. I could feel her questions and her fears, beneath the covers with us.
What is it, L?
She burrowed deeper into my chest.
Do you think you'll ever be able to forgive me? I know things won't be the same —
I tightened my arms around her, remembering all the times it felt like I'd lost her forever. Those moments wound themselves around me, threatening to crush me under their weight. There was no way I could be without her. Forgiving her wasn't a question.
Things will be different. Better.
But I'm not Light, Ethan. I'm something else. I'm … complicated.
I reached under the covers and brought her hand to my mouth. I kissed her palm where the swirling black patterns hadn't disappeared. It almost looked like Sharpie, but I knew it would never fade.
“I know what you are, and I love you. Nothing can change that.”
“I wish I could go back. I wish …”
I pressed my forehead against hers. “Don't. You're you. You chose to be yourself.”
“It's scary. My whole life, I've grown up with Dark and Light. It feels strange not to fit in anywhere.” She flopped onto her back. “What if I'm not anything?”
“What if that's the wrong question?”
She smiled. “Yeah? What's the right one?”
“You're you. Who is that? Who does she want to be? And how can I get her to kiss me?”
She raised herself on her arms and leaned over my face, letting her hair tickle me. Her lips touched mine, and it was back — the electricity, the current that ran between us. I had missed it, even as it burned my lips.
But something else was missing.
I leaned over and opened the drawer of my nightstand, reaching inside. “I think this belongs to you.” I let the chain fall into her hand, her memories spilling between her fingers — the silver button she had fastened on a paper clip, the red string, the tiny Sharpie I gave her on the water tower.
She stared into her hand, stunned.
“I added a couple of things.” I untangled the charms so she could see the silver sparrow from Macon's funeral. It meant something so different now. “Amma says sparrows can travel a long way and always find their way back home. Like you did.”
“Only because you came to get me.”
“I had help. That's why I gave you this.”