“You first. I don’t like cobwebs or spiders.”
He smiles. It’s a shaky smile and he’s looking in my direction but not making eye contact. “Of course. Follow me.”
The inside is cramped, and smells of mold and wet stone. There’s so little visibility that I bump into Rael’s back twice, kick the step in front of me twice, and graze my shoulders against the walls repeatedly.
He swings open a small door and daylight sweeps in like a gust, taking me aback.
We climb out to a narrow ledge framed by a low wall with the crenels I saw days ago. The sky is gray and unsettled.
There’s hardly any space up here—barely enough room for two people to stand side by side. Rael plants his hands on the ledge. He gazes at the wooded hills with a look of concentration, like he’s working up the nerve to say something.
I have no idea what. And I don’t know where my anger went, or why all I feel now is sadness.
He’s not who I thought he was. And, I realize, I was beginning to love his triumph. It inspired me. Such a profound transformation. Such a massive positive shift. I was becoming attached to him. I wanted peace for him. Redemption. Happiness.
I step to the edge, and see a sliver of the garden beyond sloping rooflines. Another sliver of the wall, circling the hill. And much farther below, the huge sections of the woods that are blackened and gone.
“I have made a terrible mistake,” Rael says. No lead-up. He comes over to me. I feel how close he is, inches away, but I don’t look at him. If I do, he’ll know. I won’t be able to hide what I’m thinking.
You’re a liar.
You’re evil.
“What mistake?” I ask.
“I have not been honest with you. I—I have to admit, Daryn … I didn’t believe that anything I could do or say to you would change your view of me. After what I’ve done, to Gideon, to others, I didn’t think you’d be able to offer me another chance.”
“I haven’t.”
“I know. You haven’t. But I feel, Daryn … I feel that you might. I feel hopeful. And I want to be worthy of that hope. You’ve looked at me like I am different. Like I’m better than I was. Like I’m worth something. You’ve given that to me freely. It means far more than any amount of respect or deference I could ever produce in others by force. So much more. And I want to feel deserving of it. I want to become what I’ve pretended to be.”
In my peripheral vision, I see his extended hand. An offering.
The orb.
He’s giving me the orb.
“I took this. The day we went into the Harrows’ camp. I knew you placed it into the hollow of the tree, and I took it.” He tips his chin. “Please. Take it.”
I take it. I hold it in both of my hands like it’s a bird that might fly away.
“I have not been honest with you,” he repeats, “and this is only the beginning. I have more to tell you. If you choose to hear me, stay. Be here tonight, and I will tell you all of it. Everything. If you’re gone, I won’t fault you. I’ve wronged you time and again. I only hope there’s still some forgiveness left in your heart for me.”
He slips past me—but then stops and quickly brushes a kiss on my cheek. “Regardless of what you decide, thank you.”
He leaves then, abandoning me to my thoughts. Maybe he thinks the solitude up here will help. The time to consider what he just told me. It won’t help.
You’re too late, Rael.
I don’t believe you anymore.
I count to a hundred, and then head back inside. Down one flight of stairs, then another. Walking almost normally, despite my urge to flee this place immediately.
I don’t see Rael anywhere in the house. I don’t see anyone—not even Rayna, who’s usually in the kitchen at this time, preparing the evening meal. It’s unusual, and makes me suspicious, but I don’t hesitate or slow down. I head right to the cellar door and heave it open, then plunge inside.
Triumph and relief wing into my chest as I sprint through the corridor toward Gideon’s cell. My mind churns through my next steps.
Escape through tunnels. Open portal. Go home.
Turning the last corner, I race to his cell.
It’s empty.
He isn’t here.
Despair hits me, savagely.
Have I been abandoned? Did he leave me behind?
Echoes of past pain roll through me. But it can’t be. Gideon would never.
So … did Samrael somehow learn that I found Gideon down here? Has he taken Gideon somewhere else?
Has he had Gideon killed?
I don’t know what to think.
I can’t think, with fear racing through my mind.
I spin and run back through the corridors. Up to the kitchen. Through the foyer and outside. Churning my legs down the path that follows the creek. Running away from reality, from the miserable unreality of the Rift. I don’t stop until I’ve reached the pool where Rael and I came that first day when it rained.
Tears sting my eyes as I look at the begonias. At how they surround me.
It’s been me. I’ve created them.
Suddenly I want more. Need more. An escape from the despair and loneliness.
I reach for the water, finding it in my mind.
The connection is so strong, so easy to achieve. Like hearing a musical note and adding my own, harmonizing. Then I’m leading the way and creating the melody.
The surface of the water ripples and leaps to life in hundreds of thousands of droplets. They bind together, shaping into butterflies. Butterflies made of water, wings fluttering and shimmering like glass. I make them rise and soar, schooling like fish over the water; I lose myself in their beauty.
Then I have an idea. I bring them together, combining them, and create Shadow—a crystal image of Shadow galloping over the water, her hooves kicking up splashes. I hear myself laugh. It’s effortless. Pure delight. Heady, to have so much power. Electrifying.
I bring Shadow to me and reach out, feeling rippling water instead of her silky black coat.
The limit of what I can do is a distant line. I’m nowhere close to it. I could turn this pond into almost anything I can imagine.
But it’s not costless. Inside, I feel a darkening, like I’m losing part of myself. Now that I know this power, how will I ever unknow it?
Suddenly, a fear hits me that I’ll need it. That I won’t be able to resist it.
I make Shadow rear up, sending her front hooves high in the air.
Beautiful, I think.
Terrifying.
CHAPTER 42
GIDEON
“Dusk, then?” Bas says.
“The light will be to our best advantage,” Jode says. “With our horses, the long shadows and slanting rays will provide the best camouflage we’re likely to get. It might not make much difference. Then again, it might make all the difference. And if we get in and out quickly enough, we’ll have a good chance of avoiding the Harrows. It’s our best chance.” He looks at me.