I whirl and examine Joshua’s study. The hall outside is calm, but that’s not saying much. Either someone has gone to find Joshua and the keys, or they’re planning to break down the door.
No time to waste.
If we’re leaving the Second we’ll need supplies. I move to the desk, set Dimitri’s book down, and rifle through the drawers. Their contents clatter as I open and shut, open and shut.
Ebony walks to the window. “Guardians are running around like mad down there. Preacher must be flipping out.”
“If you want to help, you can start by finding things we might be able to use.”
She meanders around, picking up a knickknack here, moving a chair an inch there. Some assistant. Was she this incompetent when she worked for my grandfather?
Once I’m finished with the desk, the only loot I’ve produced is a small pocketknife, a lighter, and a comb. I wish the medical wing were closer. It would’ve been useful to take first-aid supplies. With my Calling withering I’ve seen firsthand I won’t heal faster than normal, and medicines don’t wear off as quickly as they once did.
I pivot. Run fingers through my hair. My chestnut locks are longer than they’ve ever been, hanging past my shoulder blades now. I keep meaning to recolor my faded purple ends, but why bother? If my heart were truly loyal to the Verity, we wouldn’t be in this mess. The outward symbol means nothing if I’m black inside.
“Don’t talk like that.”
I feel someone touch my arm.
A smile surfaces.
Hi, Ky.
“We’ll fix this.”
I want to believe him. I wish with all my soul the voice I hear truly belongs to Ky. That it’s not some figment of my imagination. But how can I trust anything anymore? I thought life would be perfect after Jasyn’s defeat. Maybe it was all just a lie.
“The Verity chose you,” Ky says.
“The Verity made a mistake.” The words are out before I can stop them.
Ebony titters. “Talking to yourself again?”
I ignore her and continue exploring the office. When I’m beside the window I peer down. Ebony was right. Flashlight beams and lantern rays bounce like scattered fireflies below. Guardians comb the area. Some even head down the hill, sinking from view.
Do they search for me because I’m important? Because they care? Or do they look because I’m a danger? Could it be I’ve been a prisoner since taking on the Verity? Trapped and babysat until they figure out what to do with me?
I’ve been so stupid. This is no different from before. Secrets and lies. Agendas. Why am I always the last to know anything?
A draft chills my ears. Shiver. Joshua’s green Guardian jacket hangs on a rack to one side of the window. I haven’t seen him wear it since taking on his duties as king. I run my fingers over one sleeve from shoulder to wrist. I miss this version of him. Simple. Joshua. Then again, which version is real? I’m still not sure I ever knew him. Perhaps I never will. Is this why I couldn’t give him a Kiss of Infinity? How can you love someone you don’t know?
Then again, I didn’t know Ky . . .
“You know me. You just don’t realize it yet.”
I lift the jacket off its hook, gather it in my fists, and touch the collar to my nose. The distinct scent of Joshua mingles with the musty smell of unworn clothing. I swing the jacket over my shoulders, slip my arms through the too-long-for-me sleeves.
The jacket’s weight mirrors the heaviness in my heart. My fingers slide into the pockets, and each hand wraps around an object. The right around something bulgy, crumpled. The left around what feels like the hilt of a knife. I withdraw the crumpled item, hold it up to the moonlight. An envelope? I flip it over in my hands. A name printed in quick scrawl glares at me, and immediately I know who it’s from.
For Ember
My heart plummets to the floor, and I sink beside it. Throat constricts. Jaw goes slack. Why does Joshua have a letter? For me? From Ky?
And why has it been opened?
I lift the flap and remove a folded sheet of paper, cutting my index finger in the process. Ouch. I wince, suck on my fingertip, and read.
Twenty-Sixth Day, Eleventh Month, First Day Apart
The day after Jasyn’s defeat. The day after the last time I saw Ky.
Em,
If you’ve found this letter, you are on the right path. The path toward me.
Tears of anger well. Found? He must’ve given this to Joshua. And he knew Joshua would hide it.
I’m sorry for leaving without a word. Never think it’s because I don’t care. I refuse to say good-bye to you. I won’t.
Oh, my heart.
You’re smart, so I’m sure you’ve figured out I’ve gone after my sister if no one’s told you. Khloe is with Countess Ambrose in the Fourth. Once I’ve acquired her, I’ll return to the Third. And it is there I will wait for you. Because I will always wait for you.
I have no words. No thoughts. Only tears and the hummingbird wings beat, beat, beating in my stomach. The lyrics to Mumford & Sons “I Will Wait” strum across my soul.
Seek the truth, Em. Don’t rely on others to pave your way. Only you can decide what path you’ll take, how much you’ll risk—sacrifice—to get there. Sometimes the road less traveled is the one that leads you home.
Yours,
Ky
“Look what I found.” Ebony’s sudden presence makes me jump.
I stuff the letter back into the jacket pocket and stand. “What?” My question lacks oxygen. My voice is fading fast. My right arm is throbbing worse than before. My chest feels tight and constricted.
Ebony either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. She holds up a black Coach bag. “It was in one of the cabinets. David confiscated it when I was arrested. Lucky for us he stowed it for safekeeping.” She places one hand on her waist and pops her hip. “Ready?”
I nod and dump the things I found in Joshua’s desk, along with Dimitri’s journal, into her purse.
We stand before the window together. The lights below are sparse now, either because many have ventured into the forest to look for me or because they’ve come indoors. I slip my hand back inside the left jacket pocket. I don’t have to withdraw the knife to know what it is—whose it is.
Ky’s mirrorglass blade.
Time to return it to its rightful owner.
I inhale a shuddering breath and stare at my reflection. One palm on the cool pane, I allow myself to think of Ky. I smile when his face appears clear in my mind. My fingers tap out the rhythm to the song playing in my heart. But it’s not my Mirror melody playing. This time it’s the song I hear in my dreams. The one I played at the coronation. New lyrics form and I feel them lift my soul. Feel them guiding me home.
I never thought I’d find myself here,
Looking for someone like you.
I never knew it could ease my fear,
Watching for someone like you.
I never felt so sure, so secure,
Hoping for someone like you.
I never thought, never knew, never felt,
Never. Until I met someone like you.
When the song within ends, I open my eyes. My reflection shimmers, transforms. The image in the window transforms. A familiar street replaces the Second’s night sky. Parked cars line the curb. A dying streetlamp is a blinking ball of warmth beyond the sunroom window.
I peer through my Second Reflection side of the pane at my brownstone in Manhattan overlooking a sleepy Eighty-First Street. I didn’t realize how much I missed home. Until now.
A passerby on the sidewalk just below stops before the window—a man with cropped hair and a thick wool peacoat.
Could it be?
The stranger turns, faces the window. His coat collar is turned up, touching his car-door ears. Gaze fixed just above the window, he stares as if longing for something.
Or someone.
He lowers his head, two-tone eyes visible in the lamplight, and I force myself not to waver.
Can he see me?
“We’re going to get caught.” Ebony’s impatience spoils my focus. “You need to create a façade before they burst through the door.”
My jaw hits my chest. Is she insane?
She grabs my wrist. “Just because you never have, doesn’t mean you can’t.”
Ugh. She’s right. I pull away. Wait for instruction.
“Half your ability comes from confidence. Believing you can do it—believing the Verity can do it—and actually doing it go hand in hand.”
Okay, Tinker Bell. Sure.
She either doesn’t read the doubt in my expression or she just ignores it. “Imagine a wall. Picture it.”
I gape. How does she know so much about this?
“Just do it, El.”
Huff. Fine. I close my eyes.
The door shudders. “Who’s got the key?” Preacher bellows from the hall beyond. Wham, whack, bam! Knock, bang, slam!
“You are a Mirror,” she says, voice panicked. “Stop thinking of yourself as the picked-on girl from the Third and act like the person you are now. Today.”
Whoa. I open one eye. Who is this person? When did we enter the Twilight Zone?
“You have the power. You’ve always had it. You just didn’t know how to use it.”
I squeeze my eyes. The memory of the first time I mirror walked plays fresh in my mind. The thrill I felt. The love.
“Own it.” She shakes my shoulders now. “You have all the Callings. All. Of. Them. Now bring out your inner Amulet and hide us.”
My heart swells. I feel my melody rising, swirling about my Verity-infused soul. I’ve about lost my voice, but not my song.
My song was never about my voice. Because it was always about something more than me. The Verity sources the Callings. It is not by my own power but by the strength of the Verity I have any ability at all. And though the Verity may be dim, I still believe in its light. I have to.
Taking Ebony’s hand, I let my song go once more. It’s noiseless, at least to human ears, but oh so real.
A horde of Guardians explodes through the door, Preacher at their helm. He looks left, right, up, down. Scratches his head. Barks an order I can’t hear, as if he’s behind an invisible wall blocking out all sound—
He’s behind an invisible wall.
I did it.
Ebony and I exchange a glance and a nod. Then I turn toward the glass once more, moving through it as my inner orchestra plays on. It’s even more painful than last time, the walk like a vise pressing, clamping, squeezing the life out of me. But I don’t care. I let my body weight take over, pull Ebony with me, and fall through my reflection.
I’m coming, Ky. I’m coming.