“She found Kricket.”
“Kricket is well-documented now. Her image is everywhere. Nezra can imagine Kricket in her mind. That’s not the case with Astrid. Nezra has never seen her and she doesn’t know she exists, so she’ll have a hard time finding Astrid.”
“I’m sorry about your consort. I didn’t know.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. You’re just like me—in love with someone who has no future. We’re both trapped in an impossible situation.”
“I’m not trapped. I’m keeping Kricket. I’ll find her. I’ll save her,” he warns, but his face is one of anguish rather than determination.
“Will you? You might come to a place where you’ll have to ask yourself what you’re willing to sacrifice to prevent the deaths of millions of people—to protect others that you love. What would you be willing to risk in order to stop an evil dictator from gaining power and ending life as we know it? The burden of it is beyond your comprehension now. I have moments that I have to struggle to take a breath. It’s why I carry this around.” He holds up the smoker. “It reminds me that she wanted me to live.”
Trey turns desperate. “Give me trained soldiers! I’ll kill Excelsior. I swear it!”
“You’re not part of this, Trey. You should get out while you still can.”
“I’ll never leave her alone!”
“Think about what happens if she survives.”
“She becomes the empress of Ethar.”
“Yes, with one of the most powerful Etharians by her side, Kyon Ensin. He’ll make her his consort if he hasn’t already.”
“But she’ll be the empress. She’ll have the power to choose her destiny.”
“I think that is naïve of you, Trey, but let’s assume for a moment that you’re correct. How do you think she’ll react to New Amster?”
“She’ll be threatened by you at first, but once she comes to know you—”
“We’ve made it a priority to keep her down. We’ve assured that she felt the bite of poverty; we’ve watched her suffer abuse, secretly hoping that someone else would destroy her so that the burden of it would be absolved from us. How do you think she’ll respond to that, with all the power that she’ll have?”
“You’re worried that she’ll want revenge?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“You’re afraid of her.”
“I’m practical. She’s not equipped to make the decisions needed to wield the kind of power that she’d have as empress. We have to put Rafe back together. It’s our duty. We have responsibilities to our civilization that she cannot fulfill.”
“She’s young, but she can—”
“Astrid will always be a threat to her reign. They’ll constantly be pitted against one another.”
“Kricket would never hurt her sister. She proved that by saving her.”
“She saved herself. Giffen would have killed her had she not cooperated. If she survives Excelsior, Kricket will let you close to her, close enough for you to be able to ensure the survival of Rafe and New Amster.”
“I could speak to her for sure. I can guide her—”
“Not guide her.” He shakes his head. “End her. If you want Rafe to survive, you’ll protect Astrid. Kricket as the empress translates to the death of our House. It will be just the four Houses.”
I’m way past the point of being able to stay now. I hover near them, languishing in the dark corner, a fading memory. None of it matters anyway. If I die now or later, it’s all the same. I die. No wonder no one explained the future to me—the prophecy. I have no future. No one wanted to tell me that. They want me to play my role and then get off the stage.
I let go of this time. As I leave Trey and my father, everything becomes golden and calm. For a moment, I race out on the desert plains of time in the night all alone. I’m wild and I’m free. I can be anything here, shed my skin forever—shed time forever. I search for my mother, but in the next step I take, I find that someone is holding me back. I look behind me to see Kyon forcing me to stay. The sky falls apart. I flicker like a streetlamp on the ocean of sand. The night comes up through the grains of sand to swallow me whole.
CHAPTER 13
LOVE A LIE
Kyon’s mouth covers mine. He blows hard into it. His parted lips leave me as he rises up to his knees by my side. Large, rough hands seek the spot between my breasts above my sternum. I exhale the air from his lungs and inhale a gasping breath of my own. Kyon’s fingers are still on me as his eyes lift to mine. I cough, struggling with the need to take in more air than my lungs can handle. I’m lightheaded and shaking. Gripping my hand, Kyon squeezes too tight. “Breathe,” he demands, but it’s more than that. It’s a plea.
If there was a plan, he forgot it. He lifts my blue fingers to his lips, resting them there and breathing warmth over the winteriness of my flesh. I don’t know what’s real or what’s the future anymore. I’m buried in both worlds.
“No,” I murmur. I can’t say more. I don’t even care anymore. I don’t belong in this world.
Kyon lifts me like a blanket, carrying me naked and wet from the floor of the lavare. He lays me on the bed and climbs in next to me. He holds me for a long time without speaking. I drift in and out of sleep, waving at taxis and chasing shadows of my mother. I never want to wake up. Of course, I rarely get what I want.
My eyes flutter open and I see Kyon sitting next to me, pressing a drug dispenser gun to my upper arm. He clicks it. I flinch as something burrows beneath my skin. “You don’t have to do that,” I begin to explain.
He scowls. “Shh!” It’s a harsh sound, filled with anger. “I can’t believe you would do this!” he growls, his steam-shovel jaw tensing.
“I’m—”
“If you tell me you’re fine, I promise I will beat you to death,” he lies. “I could kill you right now with my bare hands.”
“I’m sorry,” I say in a groggy voice. The drug he gave me goes to work immediately. He pulls the bedsheets up over me. I close my eyes and go back to chasing taxis.
My skin feels hot. It’s no wonder, I’m half buried alive by Kyon’s body pressed against mine. I inch away from him and creep over the mattress to the other side of the bed. Pulling the blanket with me, I drag it to the commodus. Once there, I see my reflection in the mirror. I look like death. Ducking my head, I look away. When I leave the bathroom, I crawl back into the bed. Cold now, I seek out Kyon’s warmth. I curl myself around him, spooning him.
“Were you punishing me?” He sounds haunted.
“What?”
“Was that revenge for wanting you?”
“No,” I say, thinking about how he must have found me cold and near death on the shower floor. “It had very little to do with you. It was difficult to come back.”
“Why?”
“I got lost.”
Kyon turns over and faces me. His hand smoothes my hair away from my eyes. “What was it? What did you see?”
“Old scars ripped open,” I reply in a raw voice, trying really hard not to cry. My throat aches from it. “I promise not to stay away too long again.” It’s not a difficult thing to promise. I won’t be around long, for there aren’t too many more opportunities to break it. “I have to kill Excelsior, Kyon. I need your help. Will you help me?”