“Half the books are in French—”
“I can’t keep wandering this place like a maze! We could be getting farther away and that madman has Nori—he has Nori!”
Gowan gathers me into his arms. “Please, Silla. We have to keep going, keep trying.”
I pull away from him and get to my feet again, leaning on one of the cursed trees. “Keep trying what? Walking in circles? There is a reason for all of this, and it’s somewhere in Cathy’s past, I know it!”
I’m running before he can stop me. I’m tired of talking. Tired of reasoning, of waiting. Nori is out there with a crazy man—a thing—and for all I know he could be doing anything to her. I’m going back to the library and I will rip every single book out of the bookcases if I have to. I will burn each of those volumes page by page if that’s what it takes.
I run until I can’t.
Until my lungs are bubbling and my legs are hissing with lactic acid.
I am lost.
And the library is nowhere. The house is one giant wood. A maze.
I am trapped.
I growl in frustration and then sit down in a heap.
“NORI!” My screams echo back.
Something has buoyancy, after all.
And then I hear a sound. Nori’s tiny bell… tinkling through the trees.
Nori…
“Yes! Good girl! Good girl!”
I jump to my feet, listening, and then I follow the tendrils of sound deeper into the not-wood of La Baume.
22
between trees, a tinkle
Boys and girls
have their parts
but beware of
losing hearts.
I look behind me. The terrain is unfamiliar and uniform. Arched doorways have sprung up between trees in the distance—four at least that I can count—and I have no idea which leads back to the entrance hall.
I hold my breath and listen for my father’s voice. Maybe he will guide me if I listen hard enough. Lead me back to that black pit of nothing. But he is silent once more.
“Useless,” I mutter.
All of a sudden it is too much. I can’t bear any more loss, any more suffering, and the hollow pain in my stomach has become so intense that I cough with the pain of it. I double over, breathing in deeply, but still the pain rises and expands.
Behind me, I hear Gowan’s heavy footfalls.
“Silla!” he calls. “There you are. Don’t do that again—please.”
“I’m… sorry.” I gag again, and feel another of my teeth loose in my mouth.
I begin to laugh. I am falling apart. This is suddenly hilarious and my laughter becomes raucous shrieks until the pain takes hold again and I’m gasping for air.
“You need to eat,” Gowan says. “I’ve got one. One left.”
An apple. In his pocket. Small. Tiny, actually. Perfectly green.
“No!”
“Silla—”
“What I need is to find my sister before this thing does something to her! She’s my responsibility!”
He grabs me roughly, and I am so surprised that I forget my pain. And then he is hugging me, so tight that it almost hurts, and his whole body is vibrating—shaking. He is shaking like a leaf.
“Silla,” he breathes. “Silla…”
I am so stunned that I stand there for a full three seconds before my own arms lift, seemingly of their own accord, and wrap themselves around him. He feels so warm and alive and real in my arms, and he smells like something sweet. Something I want to smell forever.
“You’re going to destroy me,” I whisper.
And then he is shaking even more, and I realize it’s because he is crying. Not just crying, but the kind of bone-deep crying that only comes from grief. From the deepest sorrow. The kind of crying that tears deep down into the soul from some wound that time can never touch.
I let him cry, and we hold each other, and though I am bewildered, I feel his pain. I stroke his hair, and it is the most wonderful thing I have ever done. It feels so right.
“I’m sorry you’re in pain,” I whisper, before I can stop myself.
He pulls away from me, his eyes so dark they look black, rimmed with red that the tears have caused, staring at me with a look of wonder on his face, and I kiss him. I kiss him deeply, and it is so much better than the first, drunken kiss. It is so much more true and vital and worthy.
He kisses me and holds me tightly, pressing me into his body, firm against my own, and I grapple with his shirt as he grapples with mine. The light is fading, it will be dark soon, but I don’t care because all I need, right now, is here.
My bare skin is a relief, even though I am exposed, and I am glad to be rid of the moldy dress, and then his arms are around me, naked and strong, and he is pulling me toward him and I want this.
It is a desperate meeting of mouths and bodies; we move together among the cursed trees—we are the only things moving. It is heat and breath and touch and dance—it is full of life. It gets faster near the end: a wave building inside me until Gowan cries out and holds me tighter, and we fall into each other like I never knew was possible.
I love you.