“You could have ended it today,” Charles said sharply.
Autumn lowered her lashes, her gaze dipping to her hands. “You cannot comprehend the extent of the Maltorim’s progress. Callista has sanctioned others. Damascus is no longer the only home of the Maltorim. Tonight’s events were bad enough, but had a dual-breed been responsible for the death of the Queen, the retaliation would’ve been far worse than what we expect now.”
I sighed, defeat sinking further into my core. Did I want to help the Universe? Its track record was shoddy, at best. “What do you need me for?”
“To gather others like you, one for each remaining element.” Autumn breathed in deeply, fixing her gaze heavily on my own. “Then, you will fight in the Great War. If you do not, the Maltorim will spiral out of control. First, only the dual-breeds will be killed, but soon the humans will be freely hunted as well. The Maltorim claims to want to save the humans, but when the New World begins, the Maltorim will shift to darker means. Their actions could lead to the ultimate demise of our planet. Of our entire Universe.”
I shook my head. What did they expect me to do about that? “I—I’m sorry. There’s no way. I couldn’t stop them.”
Autumn’s soothing voice was a relief from Aspen’s chilling echo. “You will be ready when the time comes, and you will not be alone.”
In an awkward moment, she unfolded her hands from her lap and reached to place one over my own. The gesture was something Valeria would do, a movement Autumn was merely parroting from her host mother—staged but unrehearsed.
Charles didn’t say a word. His once fiery gaze had extinguished, the irises now dull and clouded. This was the oldest I’d ever seen him look.
“I still don’t understand the purpose of you being sent as children,” I said. “Won’t that make it harder for you to help us?”
“Quite the contrary,” Autumn said with a small smile. “To your world, children are the property of their guardians. We are lesser beings, seen as weak, less intelligent, and less deserving of respect. Who would treat us as equals but those who are pure of heart? Through us,” she said, “you will make the right allies.”
Chapter 30
EVEN MONTHS LATER, the misery of that night still haunted me. We mourned…Charles, the kids, and I. Even the Liettes’ cabin seemed to mourn—the windows sad, rain sliding down the glass like tears some nights, the scarred wooden floor icy as death in winter. The cherry blossoms had at least brought hope in the spring, unfurling their flowers along the peaks of Mount Rishiri.
Plums, so purple they were almost black, sat in the dish between us. Valeria’s dish. Months had passed, summer now returned, but the ache of losing loved ones doesn’t go away or numb quickly. All the family Charles had ever known were gone now, leaving two orphaned children in their place.
I plucked one of the plums from the bowl and sank my teeth past the tart peel, eyes fixed on Charles. He looked tired, but not as sad. I walked around the table to sit in his lap. He kissed my jaw, my wrist, my fingertips.
“We have each other,” he said, and he buried his head against my neck, his light chin stubble tickling my shoulder.
My heart raced as it always did when he was near. A smile softened my lips, and I kissed the top of his head. “We do.”
For a long time we just sat there, with the hazy, Japanese summer breeze drifting through the open kitchen window. It was all we needed.
I traced my finger along the scar inside his arm. We both had them—scars the world could see, and also our private scars. Those were the scars we shared.
***
THE MALTORIM never discovered the Liettes’ cabin, and so the location remained a safe refuge for Charles and me to stay with the kids. Adrian found a place in Kutsugata and visited often, bringing us food and supplies. Living more than a few miles away from the common trails did have its benefits, though. It was quiet here. Even the elemental noise was minimal.
I leaned back in our porch swing with a cup of iced raspberry tea and a newspaper I couldn’t read. Sometimes the kids would read it to me, try to teach me the language, but today they were sleeping in late. Sometimes they went into hibernation for days at a time, storing energy to channel messages from the Universe.
Charles emerged from the house. “Adrian stopped by last night while you were sleeping. Said Paloma checked on Ivory, and she is doing well. Doesn’t seem to remember anything more than necessary.”
My heart sped at the mention of Ivory, and my breath caught in my throat. Her name had been lingering around the edges of my mind for months, but I hadn’t heard it spoken aloud since I learned she was the one who had informed the Maltorim of Charles’ true nature.
“You all right?” he asked.
I smiled, setting the paper aside. “I still worry about the future.”