“Who?”
“Your inventor.” Oliver draped his hand over his eyes. “You invite him in . . . and he invites you. I understand now. It isn’t about knowing facts or secrets. It’s about knowing where you fit. Too bad for me, I fit nowhere.” He gave a gruff laugh. “Oh, what a bitter thing it is to look into happiness through another man’s eyes.”
I sat up. The night sky spun, but I made myself tilt over Oliver—and I pushed his hands off his face. None of this night made sense to me, but I wanted at least to try to understand. “You are angry because I didn’t tell you about the ivory fist.”
“Yes,” he muttered, pushing onto his elbows and bringing his face nearer. “But it is not only that. I cannot fully blame you for hiding the fist. Items of power warp the mind. Power warps the mind. I am mostly angry because I am alone. Again, after briefly glimpsing what the other side held.”
My brow furrowed. “I do not understand. How could you feel alone when we are bound? I always sense our connection, a pulsing line of magic here.” I clutched at my stomach.
He stared at me unwavering. “For a moment today, El, none of you saw me as a demon. You saw me as me. Yet now that we are back here, among the frightened distrust of Joseph and your inventor, I am alone once more.”
I let my gaze roam over his inhumanly perfect face. Such beautiful lips, such an elegant jaw.
There was truly nothing left of the Oliver from two weeks ago—and I recalled his words from a few days before. The more I’m trapped in this human body, the more I find myself wanting like a man wants. Feeling like a man feels.
And that was when I finally began to understand it. He was lonely, and the more he felt like a man, the more his otherness grated inside. He wanted to be one of us; he never could be.
“I don’t mean to push you away,” I said roughly. “I don’t want you to be alone.”
“Then help me go home, El. Set me free so I may return to a world that welcomes me.”
“But . . . but then I’ll be alone.” And then this familiar pulse of connection will be gone. Forever.
He gave a sad shake of his head. “Remember this, El: not everyone who you invite in will wish to be there. And no matter what you might want, I will one day have to leave.”
I blinked, and my mouth went dry. “But you won’t leave me now, right?” My voice was a whisper. “Allies . . . still?”
He did not answer. He merely sat up all the way, his cheek brushing past mine, and glided to his feet. When he offered me his hand, I almost laughed at how much dust was on his suit. He so hated being dirty. . . .
But I was too cold inside to laugh.
I took his hand. Air whizzed past my ears, and suddenly I was standing . . . and only inches from him.
“I am sorry for provoking you tonight.” He spoke in a distant voice. “It was wrong of me, El. It would seem I am just as cruel as your inventor when my feelings are hurt.”
My lips parted to speak, but Oliver wasn’t finished. “Tomorrow we find the Old Man. It’s so close. So close. Please live long enough for that, secrets or no.” He cupped my face with a single hand, his face so motionless that he looked carved from stone. “And for the love of eternity, please cast a dream ward tonight, all right?”
He lowered his hand, nodded once, and then set off toward the airship’s gondola. And as he walked, the grass whispered and the balloon continued to grow. It rose and rose until Oliver was long out of sight.
Until it had blocked out the moon and plunged my world into shadowy darkness.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I awoke with the gray light of dawn at my porthole and the dregs of heavy sleep trying to tow me under. The airship hummed, and I knew by the groan of wind over the gondola that we were flying once more.
I had cast a dream ward the night before, and it had left my mind fuzzy. Confused. Then a memory flickered through my brain—one of shallow breaths and sweat. Of skin against skin and fingernails . . .
Daniel. I sighed, rolling onto my side and squeezing my eyes shut. It hadn’t been a dream, had it?
My eyes popped wide. Oh, it had certainly happened—as had my fight with Oliver.
For two heartbeats I wished I could erase the memory of the fight and keep only Daniel. . . . But I couldn’t, and Oliver was right: we were so close to the Old Man. We were so close to ending this. I simply had to get through today.