Khloe peers farther over the boat’s edge. Streak moves. I rise.
The shift in gravity registers first, not externally but internally. It’s similar to the feeling I had the first time I stepped through my own reflection. A distinct change only I would notice. Quickened pulse. Heightened awareness expanding to all five senses. Lyrics to a song I haven’t heard in forever play in my mind’s forefront. I never thought Zedd’s “Clarity” made much sense, but now I wonder if the DJ-turned-record producer was on to something.
Because for every tragedy or crisis, every obstacle or barrier, there’s been one remedy, one thing—one person—who’s given me utter and complete clarity. Joshua’s calming was instant, but never lasted. And Ky? He’s “the piece of me I wish I didn’t need.” But I do, and I won’t lose him. Again.
And just like that, the fog clouding my brain lifts.
The boat knock, knock, knocks against the top of the stairs. Streak straddles a bench, loosening us, readying to row back to the Seven Seas. Frizzing dreads slap his face, and his biceps flex as he heaves the rope into the boat. Grunt. Thunk. He’s a silver screen pirate incarnate, from his tattoo sleeves to his yellowed teeth. But I’m not afraid of him. No, there are far worse things to fear. Like insignificance. Or having the opportunity to act and not seizing it.
“Brave girl. My brave, brave girl.” The pride in Mom’s voice carries on her words remembered.
A grin surfaces in response to the Scrib within—to the memory I recognize as part of my Calling. I always saw Mom as perfect and porcelain, but perhaps I’m more like her than I believed. Her words are etched onto my soul. And no matter where she is, I’m certain she’d still want me to be brave. To do whatever I can to help the others.
Khloe picks her way toward me, distracting me from the silent conversation. My gaze attends her, but my heart listens for Ky.
When she reaches me, she folds her arms and without pretense asks, “What’s the plan, El?”
Good question. I press my forefingers to my temples and close my eyes. Ky believes in me. He’s saved me time and time again. Now it’s my turn. But how can we make it through the Threshold without drowning? Tide was our one-way bullet train into the Fourth. The shallow waters of The Pond, or even the lagoon beneath the subway, were one thing. But the ocean’s bed is miles down. We’d die before reaching the bottom, let alone the other side. I’ve never been there and without Ky’s hand in mine, I can’t mirror walk my way in.
“Khloe can help.”
My lashes snap skyward. I don’t even flinch at Ky’s direction. His voice in my head is as second nature as singing used to be. I look to Khloe.
Her brown eyes twinkle. “So it’s real.” Not a question. A confirmation.
My head tilts.
“And here I thought it was only a theory.” She laughs.
Did I miss the joke? I glance over her shoulder. Streak rows, puffing through pursed lips. We’re nearing the stone arch. Beyond the opening, a storm batters the main ship. Loose sails flap and snap. Someone I can’t identify waves his arms wildly from the deck.
“Don’t look so surprised,” she says. “I saw your expression just now. I’ve been watching you on the ship too. You shared a Kiss of Infinity with my brother. The connection between you is real.” Khloe’s words release in a rush. She loses balance and I grab her elbow to steady her.
I move my lips, though no sound emerges, hoping she can read them. What’s. Your. Calling?
She leans in, peering at Streak, then back at me. “Watch.” She takes my hand, yanks hard.
Streak shouting, “Stop, lasses!” is the last sound I hear before my ears flood. The frigid water smashes into me like hundreds of bee stings pelting my body. I claw for the surface, but an unseen weight drags me deeper.
Wham! My head meets something solid. The boat’s side? A rock? I’m abruptly reminded of where I am. I gasp for air, but invite a mouthful of ocean instead. The salty water stings my nose and throat, burns as it fills my lungs. I feel my head, but it’s impossible to decipher if my hair is damp with blood or water. What was Khloe thinking?
And where is she?
“Stop. Wait.”
Ky’s voice is my only reassurance. I’m blind. And dizzy. Spots dance before my waterlogged eyes. The pressure on my lungs is too much. I. Need. Oxygen.
But then, just as quickly as it began, the pain eases. I’m no longer choking, and somehow I can breathe, though it feels unnatural. Heavy. As if I’m constantly drinking but never feeling the need to stop and inhale.
This makes no sense. I’m still underwater. I shouldn’t be able to—A hand tugs on mine. My head whips left. My heart swells at the sight of Khloe. She’s okay and she’s . . . smiling? She’s—
Khloe. Has. Gills.
I touch my neck. Gasp. Bubbles rise.
I have gills too. How is this possible?
My question will have to wait. Our hands release and we swim freely, but together. Keep close to the descending stone steps, using them as a guide. And then, there it is, the pinprick of green light alerting us to the Threshold’s opening. It’s faint as if fading with the Threshold’s drainage, but it’s there.
We swim faster, harder, my heart beat, beat, beating as we dive straight through the light. I know we’ve reached the Fourth when we’re suddenly headed up instead of down, following another set of stone steps. Except these are different. Where the steps in the Third were infested with barnacles and seaweed, these are inlaid with precious stones in greens and golds.
When we reach the surface, we crawl up the remainder of the steps onto the landing and collapse. My sodden clothes anchor me to stone.
Khloe props herself up on her elbows. “Bet you’ve never seen a Shield do that before.”
I shake my head, wet hair clinging to my skin.
“It’s pretty neat, huh? And it’s not just gills. I can adapt to any climate. Change my blood from warm to cold in the desert. Grow fur in a blizzard. Bones taught me how to project my Calling onto others too. It’s how I could give you gills like me.”
Bones? Ebony taught her this? So this is what they were doing on deck this morning. Practicing.
Too cool. I’m so asking Ebony to teach me ASAP. How awesome would it be if I could project mirror walking?
I wring my hair out and take in our surroundings. We’re on a miniature island in an ocean, and a rope bridge extends from the landing to a rocky shore. My gaze follows the bridge. To shore. To—
Myriad emotions wash over me at once. Shock. Pain. Relief. Confusion. I bolt up and crouch in front of Khloe, shielding her like the flesh and blood she is.
Fourth Reflection Guardians line the stone shore beyond the bridge. They’re darker skinned like Kuna and Tide. A mixture of men and women. Barefoot. Dressed for a party in their multicolored sarongs and togas. All bear tattoos on their right biceps, though from this distance I can’t tell what the tattoos depict.
Past the Guardian line, a massive Roman-style palace towers, complete with marble columns and a statue of a regal-looking woman in a toga. Archaic symbols I can’t read are carved in swirling patterns on the columns and steps. Just like the gems glistening underwater, the symbols are also gold and green. In the distance to the east and west I spy mountain peaks white as cappuccino foam, their snowcaps out of place in this tropical climate. This is the Fourth? It’s grander than anything I’ve imagined but also familiar in a way that feels like home.
Khloe pokes my back, popping my awestruck bubble. I blink rapidly, concentrate on the Guardian line. Each one has a weapon drawn and ready. Spears, knives, bows, swords. Some restrain our crew members. Charley. Flint. Ebony. Gunner. Tide. And is that . . . ? It is. Gage? He’s the one restraining Tide. How did he get here and why?
My mind wants to examine the possibilities, to connect the dots. But then I zero in on the line’s center and forget them all.
Two men stand there, one behind the other. Ky is in front, beaten and bruised. His right shirtsleeve is torn, revealing his Void-encompassed arm. Even from here the blood on his swollen lips is visible.
Anger surges through my veins, electrocutes my nerves. I’m on my feet, sprinting across the rope bridge. When I’m halfway between landing and shore, the man detaining Ky steps from behind him.
My heart stops, but my feet keep moving.
“El,” Joshua calls. Relief softens his cerulean gaze. For a moment I almost don’t notice he’s holding a sword to Ky’s neck.
He’s holding a sword to Ky’s neck.
I step ashore, mere feet away from them. My arm reaches, shaking in a desperate plea. Stop. Please. Release him.
“El?” Confusion creases Joshua’s forehead. His sword hand lowers a fraction of an inch.
But it isn’t low enough.
I swallow. Strain to find my voice. The first word I’ve uttered in days rasps from my lips, loud enough for my ears alone.
“Ky.”