You’re making me nervous, standing there.”
Wil took a few more steps inside. He had spent so much time in this room, he knew it as wel as his own. Jem’s col ection of music books; the case in which his violin lived when he was not playing it; the windows that let in square patches of sunlight. The trunk that had come al the way from Shanghai. The cane with its jade top, leaning against the wal . The box with Kwan Yin on it, that held Jem’s drugs. The armchair in which Wil had spent countless nights, watching Jem sleep, counting his breaths and praying.
Jem looked up at him. His eyes were luminous; no suspicion colored them, only a simple happiness at seeing his friend. “I am glad you’re here.”
“So am I,” said Wil gruffly. He felt awkward, and wondered if Jem could sense it. He had never felt awkward around his parabatai before. It was the words, he thought, there on the tip of his tongue, pleading to be said.
You see it, don’t you, James? Without Tessa there is nothing for me—no joy, no light, no life. If you loved me, you would let me have her.
You can’t love her as I do. No one could. If you are truly my brother, you would do this for me.
But the words remained unspoken, and Jem leaned forward, his voice low and confiding. “Wil . There was something I wanted to say to you, and not when everyone else was around.”
Wil braced himself. This was it. Jem was going to tel him about the engagement, and he was going to have to pretend to be happy, and not be sick out the window, which he desperately wanted to be. He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “And what’s that?”
The sun glittered off Jem’s hair as he ducked his head. “I should have talked to you before. But we never have discussed the subject of love, have we, and with you being such a cynic . . .” He grinned. “I thought you’d mock me for it. And besides, I never thought there was a chance she’d return my feelings.”
“Tessa,” said Wil . Her name was like knives in his mouth.
Jem’s smile was luminous, lighting his whole face, and any hope that Wil had harbored in some secret chamber of his heart that perhaps Jem did not real y love her, was gone, blown away like mist before a hard wind. “You have never shirked your duties,” Jem said. “And I know that you would have done what you could to save Tessa in the tea warehouse, whoever she was. But I could not help thinking that perhaps the reason you were so determined to save her was because you knew what she meant to me.” He tipped his head back, his smile incandescent. “Did I guess correctly, or am I a thickheaded idiot?”
“You’re an idiot,” said Wil , and swal owed hard, past his dry throat. “But—you are correct. I know what she means to you.”
Jem grinned. His happiness was printed al over his face, his eyes, Wil thought; he had never seen him look like this. He had always thought of Jem as a calm and peaceful presence, always thought that joy, like anger, was too extreme and human an emotion for him. He realized now that he had been quite wrong; Jem had simply not been happy like this before. Not since his parents had died, Wil imagined. But Wil had never considered it. He had dwel ed on whether Jem was safe, whether he was surviving, but not if he was happy.
Jem is my great sin.
Tessa had been right, he thought. He had wanted her to break things off with Jem, whatever the cost; now he realized he did not, could not. You might at least believe I know honor—honor, and debt, he had said to Jem, and he had meant it. He owed Jem his life. He could not take from him the one thing Jem wanted more than anything else. Even if it meant Wil ’s own happiness, for Jem was not only someone to whom he owed a debt that could never be repaid, but, as the covenant said, someone he loved as he loved his own soul.
Jem looked not just happier, but stronger, Wil thought, with healthy color in his cheeks, his back straight. “I ought to apologize,” Jem said. “I was too severe regarding the ifrits’ den. I know you were merely seeking solace.”
“No, you were right to have—”
“I wasn’t.” Jem stood up. “If I was harsh with you, it was because I cannot bear to see you treat yourself as if you are worth nothing. Whatever part you might act to the contrary, I see you as you real y are, my blood brother. Not just better than you pretend to be, but better than most people could hope to be.” He placed a hand on Wil ’s shoulder, gently. “You are worth everything, Wil .”