Katie stood up from her chair, feeling long-buried sorrow twist her insides. All those years ago, she had known that one day she would have to choose. But she hadn’t known that it would have to be today.
“I can’t go with you, Row,” she told him. “I serve Jonathan Tear.”
Row’s face tightened, but only for a moment, and then that spurious good humor reappeared.
“Ah, yes, the infamous fighting force.”
Katie’s mouth dropped open.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out, Katie? There are no secrets in this town. I’ve always known Tear was a fraud, but you didn’t, did you?”
“He wasn’t a fraud!” she shouted, outraged. “It’s for Jonathan! It’s to guard Jonathan!”
Row smiled indulgently, as though she were a child. “That’s what Tear told you, certainly. But think about it, Katie. It may look like a guard, but what Tear was really training up is a police force. A secret police force, answerable only to his son. What sort of utopia needs secret police?”
“You think I don’t know that you’re jealous of Jonathan?” she demanded, and had the pleasure of watching Row’s face darken. “You’ve always been jealous of him! You’ve always wanted what he has!”
“And what about you?”
“I serve the Tears,” Katie repeated stubbornly. “I serve Jonathan.”
Row threw back his head and laughed. “See, Katie? You’re one of the faithful too!”
Katie grabbed him again, meaning to yank him from the bed. In that moment she hated Row, hated him utterly, because she could already feel his words digging into her mind, making her think twice, making her doubt. But after another moment she released him and backed away. Jonathan was there, always, and it would not serve Jonathan if she picked a fight with the Christers’ favorite son now.
Row stretched again, but this time he swung his legs out of bed and got up. He was wearing nothing beneath his sheet; Katie did her best to look away before it dropped, but she failed, and the brief glimpse she got made her feel like she was burning inside. Then she was ashamed. This was her oldest friend; what had happened to the two of them? When had everything changed?
“How’s that messiah working out for you, Katie? Spotted any feet of clay yet?”
“You stay away from Jonathan. Don’t even come near him.”
“I won’t need to, Katie,” Row replied, grinning . . . but now the grin seemed not appealing, but reptilian. She turned away, but a moment later her entire body spasmed as Row slid a hand between her legs.
“You look all you want, Katie.”
“I don’t want to.”
“It must be exhausting, devoting all your time to a second-rate William Tear. Why not trade up?”
Katie’s fists clenched. Beneath the excitement that had gathered in her belly, she felt a titanic wave of anger building, that he should think her such a fool, that he should treat her like one of the hundreds of other women in town who had already succumbed. They might not be friends anymore, but surely she deserved better than that?
“Tear’s paradise will collapse beneath Jonathan’s feet, Katie, just as I knew it would. And who will people turn to in the wreck, if not God?”
She fled then, ducking clumsily out of Row’s room, banging her shoulder on the frame as she went.
“Think about it, Katie!” Row called after her. “You’re on a sinking ship! Come over to mine, and just see how far we sail!”
Katie stumbled down the hallway, her eyes full of tears. On her way down the steps, she bumped into Mrs. Finn and several other women, but she could not even bring herself to exchange pleasantries, could only shoulder past the women with a muttered apology, moving faster with each step. By the time she reached the bottom of the porch, she had broken into a run.
“Lady.”
Mace’s voice. That was good, for even here, at the end of the world, she would have liked to see Mace one last time.
“I know you hear me, Lady. Will you wake up?”
Kelsea didn’t want to wake up. She could feel William Tear’s sapphire at her chest, almost like a companion that had accompanied her on strange journeys, but she was beginning to think that she had never needed the jewel to see into the past, for they were all with her now: Tear, Jonathan, Lily, Katie, Dorian . . . even Row Finn.
“Lady, if you don’t wake up, I’m going to have you baptized.”
Her eyes popped open, and she saw Mace sitting beside her bed, holding a candle. Around him was a darkened room. She sat up quickly.
“Lazarus? Is it you?”
“Of course it’s him.” Coryn appeared out of the gloom. “As though you could mistake that set of shoulders for anyone else.”
Kelsea reached out to Mace, but he did not take her hand. They stared at each other for a long moment.
“I’ll see myself out,” Coryn muttered. “Glad you’re well, Lady.”
When he opened the door, Kelsea saw a piece of hallway lit by torchlight. Then the door closed, and she and Mace were once again staring at each other. Kelsea was reminded, suddenly and painfully, of that day on the bridge. The chasm between them had been vast, but it felt even larger now. She read distrust in his eyes, and it hurt far more than anger.
“Where are we?”