“Oh no, what happened?” Meera raised both hands to her mouth. “Is he okay?”
“Yes. Yes, he’s okay. But …” Ridley couldn’t bring herself to say it. The words wouldn’t leave her lips. “Um, I have to tell you something about me,” she said instead.
“O-okay.”
“I … uh … I’m not like you.”
A frown line formed above the bridge of Meera’s glasses. “Okaaaaay.”
Ridley let out a rush of breath and said, “There’s magic inside me. Like, inside my body. I was born that way. I don’t have amulets beneath my skin—neither an AI1 nor AI2—and I don’t have to pull magic from the environment the way other people do. Or used to do, before it was banned. I can just use the magic from inside me to do conjurations.”
Unmoving, Meera stared at Ridley. Then she grabbed her commscreen from the desk and shoved it beneath her pillow. “Ridley, you can’t say things like that! You don’t know who might be listening.”
Ridley sighed, wondering if the meaning of her words had actually reached Meera’s brain, or if she’d got stuck on the fact that Ridley was talking about something illegal. “Don’t worry. I’m the one saying these things, not you, and I’m already a wanted criminal.”
“You—you are?”
“Yes. Because of this.” A demonstration was probably simpler than trying to explain things to Meera. Ridley pushed her sleeves up and extended her arms as glowing threads of blue pulsed beneath her skin. Wisps of magic drifted into the air. Ridley did a quick one-handed conjuration and flicked the magic toward her own head. Her hair swiftly pulled itself into a ponytail. It was a conjuration her mom—not my mom—had done often for her when she was little.
Meera blinked. Blinked again. Then she shook her head as if waking from a daze. “Ridley!” she hissed, her eyes darting furtively around as if she might find some member of law enforcement lurking in the shadows of her own home. “What the—are you crazy? You can’t do that here!”
“I’m sorry, but you didn’t seem to be getting what I was telling you. This isn’t a law I chose to break. This is the way I am. And I managed to keep this a secret—even from you—until the night I went to that party with Archer. Something went wrong there, and I had to use magic to get away quickly, but there were cops there and they saw me, and then Dad and I had to run.”
“You …” Meera was still staring at Ridley’s hands. “You just used magic,” she whispered. “In my house.”
Again, it seemed like Meera might be missing the point. “Meera, I’m trying to tell you all the things I’ve always had to keep from you. All the secrets. The reason that man was killed outside my home, and me being able to sneak around the city to steal things so I can help the people who really need it, and Lawrence Madson and his father trying to kill me, and Shen leaving without saying goodbye, and … it all comes down to this. There are people in the world called elementals, and I’m one of them.”
Meera was gaping at her, which was probably to be expected after the number of secrets that had tumbled from Ridley’s mouth in a single breath. “There are people who want to kill me because of what I can do, Meera. Because of the magic inside me. Because I can do things like this.” She became water in an instant, splashing to the floor and then leaping into the air as a sparking rush of flames before whooshing up to the ceiling as air, causing the curtains to billow. It all took place within a matter of seconds before she returned to her human form.
Her feet had barely touched the floor when Meera stumbled backward and smacked into the wardrobe. Her palms flattened against its doors. “Stop,” she whispered. Then louder: “Stop. Stop, stop, stop.” She covered her ears with her hands and squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t want to know any more. Please don’t tell me anything else, don’t show me anything else.”
“What? But …” Ridley’s heart floundered painfully. “I thought you’d want to know the truth.”
“Nope. No. Not this truth.” Meera lowered her hands and shook her head repeatedly. Her eyes were open again, pointed at the floor somewhere near Ridley’s feet. “There were times when it seemed like you were keeping things from me, and I always hoped you’d eventually be honest, but I didn’t realize you were keeping these kinds of secrets. Illegal secrets. Like, death sentence-worthy secrets.”
“Meera, just—”
“I don’t want to know!” Meera repeated, her eyes wide and desperate. “Please leave me out of this. I don’t want to end up in prison. I don’t want to …” She shook her head again as she edged past Ridley, keeping as much distance between the two of them as possible in this tiny room. “Please, Ridley, I love you and I’m so happy you’re okay, but … you have to go. I can’t be involved in this. My family can’t be involved. Please don’t get us into trouble. Please just … go.” She pulled the door open and rushed into the hallway, then stopped and looked back. “I’m sorry.” Her eyes met Ridley’s, her gaze pleading with Ridley to understand. “I’m so sorry. You’re my best friend and I love you, but … I’m not brave like you. I can’t do this.” She hurried away, her shoes swiping swiftly down the hall.
Stunned, lost for words or thoughts or any feeling other than the ache radiating from the center of her being, Ridley stared at the empty doorway. “What’s going on?” Meera’s sister Anika asked from the living room. “I thought you were coming to help me with—”
“We’re going for a walk,” Meera interrupted.
“What, now? But—”
“Now. Grab your coat. We’ll finish lunch and your history homework when we get back.” There was the scuffle of shoes and the mumble of voices and then the front door banged shut.
Ridley was alone.
12
Ridley was folded into the corner of a couch, her arms wrapped around her legs, her body enveloped by familiar, frayed cushions. Dull orange light from a street lamp seeped through the gauzy curtains, and the only sound filling her ears was the tapping of raindrops against the window and the rustle of the flimsy plastic taped across the hole in the window’s center. She was in the tiny living room of the apartment above Kayne’s Antiques.
She was home.
She had imagined returning here many times over the past few weeks, but in her mind, it hadn’t been like this. It hadn’t been so dark, so cold, so drenched in pain. Part of her wondered if she was even here. She didn’t remember planning to come. She had let the wind take her, and perhaps it had sensed she needed somewhere to feel safe. To pause. To breathe. To process.
Archer.
The Cataclysm.
Dad.
And now Meera.
Ridley needed her best friend, but her best friend had quite literally run away from her. She supposed it was what she deserved, after keeping so many secrets from Meera. They were life-threatening secrets, as Meera had pointed out, and Ridley shouldn’t have put the Singhs in danger by trying to share those secrets. She should have kept her distance.