Long after Ky finishes playing, after his fingers slip from the ivories and fold between his knees, we remain silent. Eye contact? Nonexistent. Tension? Thicker than Reggie’s triple-layer fudge cake. The echo of Ky’s song in my head is the only sound. Haunting me. Raising more questions in my ready-to-explode brain. One stands out among the rest.
How is it possible we are this close? This fast?
My relationship with Joshua developed over a period of three years. But a couple weeks with Ky and we shared the rarest of kisses. I know a Kiss of Infinity stems from somewhere deep inside, from feelings you may not be aware you possess. Still, it seemed crazy.
Until now.
It’s as if our paths were meant to cross, our lips destined to meet. I questioned it before, but we must have something deeper. How else could he write a song melodizing my soul?
Is it possible we’ve met before?
Ky rubs his hands together, rests them on his thighs. If he listened to my thoughts just now, he gives nothing away. He remains cool. Collected. Quiet.
Not like himself at all.
I wish I could know what’s on his mind.
“You can.”
Blush. Could you try not to read every thought I think, please?
He shrugs. “Sorry. It was my connection to you while we were apart. I’ll try to refrain now that we’re together.”
Together. The word stirs something inside me. We’re close enough so when either of us makes the slightest shift, our arms brush. The electricity—our electricity—is undeniable. I should move away. Stand on the other side of the room. Recoil from the treacherous touch.
Treacherous because it awakens something that has been asleep since he left. Something missing between Joshua and me.
Ky . . . my fingers twiddle . . . that song . . . I tuck my hair behind my ears . . . You’ve been playing it for me. Haven’t you?
“I’d hoped you heard it.” He closes his right hand into a fist, taps it against his knee. “I wanted you to, though I couldn’t be sure.”
I angle to face him. My knee knocks his. He continues to study his lap as I think, I did. I heard every note.
He glances up. Stares at the sheet music before him. “I’d always wondered what kept the Void inside me from spreading after what Tiernan did to me.” He speaks without preface, as if he knows what I came to ask.
Duh. Of course he knows. He can read my mind.
“When I discovered David and I shared the Verity, I knew that had to be it. The Verity had to be what kept me from turning Soulless before. But it was more than that too. My desire not to turn Soulless was strong enough to fight the darkness within. You see, each of us who are Called, I wager we all hold a piece of the Verity—a piece of the goodness that stems from the light empowering our Callings.
“When David sent me away, I began to construct my theory. I knew my connection to you would serve the same purpose—the Void is subject to the Verity, for it possesses the soul the Verity loves most. But what would it mean if our souls were bound? Before, I only held half the Verity and a very small portion of the Void. Now the Verity as a whole is bound to half the Void. It’s tethered, you see. And not by just anything, no. The Void and the Verity are now joined by a Kiss of Infinity.” He faces me. “What does this mean?”
The question is rhetorical. He carries an answer but that’s beside the point. Because the answer he seeks is mine. My mind wanders to day and night, night and day. How the Void covered half the Second in shadows under Crowe’s rule. The way the Verity is the essence of everything light and good.
The Void and the Verity were balanced, I think. The Verity is like the day, the Void like the night. Always existent, but never coexistent. I watch his face for confirmation I’m on track. But he gives nothing away so I go on. But now that’s changed.
Jaw pulsing, he nods. “The Void cares a great deal for the Verity.” There’s a sadness in his gaze. Because he isn’t the only vessel of the Void. Joshua cares for me too—loves me—and he won’t give me up without a fight.
This should make me happy, to know the boy I loved for so long returns my affection. But the knowledge only adds to my anguish. I don’t come away from this without hurting someone. It doesn’t matter who I choose. Because either way someone gets left behind.
“Em,” Ky whispers, drawing me back to the now. “Does the Verity love the Void? Not the part held by David, but the part it is tethered to? Not a love born out of pity or one stemming from obligation. I’m talking real and true love. A love that would exist even if the Void and the Verity weren’t involved.”
My lips part out of habit, though it’s my thoughts that say, I . . . I’m not sure. My eyelashes descend. Chest heaves.
Ky shifts beside me. When I open my eyes he’s gathering the sheet music off the piano. It swishes between his fingers as he rises. “The only way to stop what’s happening is to find a way to keep the Void from taking over the Verity—from dousing its light.” Stepping from the space between the bench and piano, he turns to me. “And to do this we must go back to the origins of light and darkness.” He lowers the fallboard over the keys.
The origins. Yes. Exactly. I guess great minds think alike. Then again, Ky and I have always been in sync for some reason. Even when we fought we had a rhythm, an easiness Joshua and I never shared. I stand and gaze at him from across the length of the bench. Watching. Waiting.
“I have a theory.” Though his voice hurries in excitement, his eyes communicate exhaustion. Has he slept at all tonight? The purple crescents beneath his eyes, along with the slight sag of his shoulders, suggest he hasn’t slept in days. “From what I’ve found, the Verity has always existed, but the Void . . .” He pauses, as if considering his words. “The Void is another story.”
If the Void hasn’t always existed, then someone—or something—created it. But who? What?
“That’s what we have to figure out,” Ky says. “And I need your help.”
What can I do? I’m useless without—
“Stop it, Em. I won’t hear you think such things anymore. You are far from useless. In fact, you are the only one who can help. Because if the Thresholds drain, only you can get us through to the next Reflection.”
I shake my head. Not true. I can only mirror walk to places I’ve been.
“Our souls are one now, remember?” He winks. “If I’ve been there, you’ve been there.”
Could he be right? With the song inside, could I be of some use after all?
“Not of some use. Vital.” He skirts the bench, closing the space between us with each new syllable. “I need you, Em. Can’t you see?”
This is more like the Ky I know. Forward. Tenacious. I back against the wall. The blanket around my shoulders falls, pools around my ankles and feet. I press my palms to the sleek wood. The swoosh of the ocean beyond the circular window next to my head echoes my shifting emotions.
Like a wolf on the prowl Ky advances, raw hunger in his eyes. But I’m not afraid of him.
I’m afraid of myself, of these strange sensations awakening the closer, closer, closer he comes.
“And you need me too.” He stops toe to toe with me, leans in, braces against the wall with his arms on either side of my head. “I know you. You’ve missed me.”
It’s impossible to think. Again.
“Come with me to the Fourth Reflection.” His breath is hot on my face. “I’ve already spoken with Countess Ambrose. She’s expecting us. Expecting you. Together we can fix this.”
End the Void? It’s all I’ve wanted—hoped for—since this whole mess started.
“Yes,” Ky says. “No more darkness. Only light.”
The idea makes my head swim. I’ve searched for this answer, but to discover I’m not crazy? That Ky believes it’s possible too? My heart grows a gazillion times lighter. He doesn’t blame me for the burden he carries. Instead he believes in me, in my strengths and abilities.
Lyrics from a Wicked song plead to burst from my lips.
“What is this feeling, so sudden and new?”
Except the feeling is far from loathing. Gulp.
Ky’s forehead meets mine.
Double gulp.
He grazes his hand down my left arm, mingles our fingers.
I close my eyes, but I don’t release his hand.
He kisses my right temple. Places three kisses along the length of my jaw.
My breaths release in gasps. My pulse is a drum line.
He pulls back just far enough so our gazes find each other again. “We belong together, Em. Maybe you aren’t sure now, but I know.”
How can you know?
Ky smiles then. So genuine. Pure. “I know because I know.” He exhales.
My lips part. His breath tastes of peppermint. Why couldn’t he have morning breath? It would make the task of keeping my mouth to myself much less daunting.
“I’ll make a deal with you.”
I arch my eyebrows.
He squeezes my hand, releases it, then paces to the other side of the space and back. “Stay with me. Help me save the Reflections. When we’re done, if you wish to return to him, I’ll let you go.”
I wait. One breath. Two. When he doesn’t continue I think, That’s not a deal. That’s a request.
“Sorry.” He nears again, fingertips tracing the lengths of my bare arms. “It’s difficult to think about anything but kissing you at the moment.”
And now I’m blushing. Please don’t let him notice. I’m so confused.
“For now,” he says, ignoring the former half of my thought. His hands cup my face. “Soon all will be clear.” And then he withdraws.
And something inside me breaks.
Crud. This is so not good.
“Will you come?”
My stomach churns, whether from the slightly rocking ship or the feelings of betraying Joshua, I can’t tell. Yes, I’ll come.
He crosses to the window beside me, grins into his reflection. “Good. We sail for the Fourth at dawn.”
If I stay, one thing has to be clear.
He turns his regard on me. Folds his arms.
If I come, you will keep your distance. No trying to sway my decision or cloud my judgment. This is about the Reflections. The Callings. No more hand holding. No more brooding looks. I lower my gaze to his lips and snap my eyes shut. And definitely no kissing.
Ky laughs. He actually laughs. “Oh, there will be kissing. But it’s not I who will be kissing you.”
Eyes open. Brows pucker.
“You’re going to kiss me, Ember. And when you do, it’s going to be because you’ve finally admitted to yourself you’re in love with me. Not because a Kiss of Infinity tells you to. Not because the Void split and half of it entered me. Because even without those things, in the end, it will still be me.”
A little sure of yourself, aren’t you? I can’t help but crack a smile, enjoy this easy banter between us. I’ve missed this. Missed him.
“Haven’t you learned by now?” He elbows me. “I am always right.”
Hardly. I roll my eyes. I’m getting used to him hearing my silent dialogue. I almost like it.
He winks. “We’ll see, Em. We’ll see.”