“Not many have managed that and lived,” he says.“I should be thankful this is our last lesson.”
My heart falls, heavy.
It’s a sharp reminder of how short-lived that promise will be.I may have him now, but he refuses to leave Ferntree.Refuses to join me in Chance.
“You might be thankful, but I am not.”It’s petulant, but I don’t care.
Once, our world was one.Stretching out from horizon to horizon and beyond.When the sorcerer came into his power, he engulfed the world in water, carving the earth apart, creating twelve lands separated by a dark and riotous sea that he ruled, alongside serpents and horrors.
He is defeated, but the chasms remain.
Hope is a fragile seed, one that I’m determined to help grow and the biggest reason I volunteered to leave.To be wed.
“Equitable,” my brother calls it.“A marriage of mutual benefit.”Easy for Louis to say; he’s not the one leaving his home behind.
“How are you feeling?”He holds out his palm, and I pass him my sword.
My nerves pull tighter with each breath, stretched thin and fraying.I’ve run out of time.Lachlan will be here—has likely already been received by my brother—and my future will begin.A future that doesn’t include Sterling.
Anyone in my position would be nervous because …
* * *
Lachlan is …
a stranger(go to 29)
my oldest friend(go to 35)
go back(go to 17)
Actually, why not go with him?
Something tells me it’ll be interesting.
He carries my things one-handed as we walk.When his hand brushes mine, I grab on.He’s more solid than the ground under my feet, and it’s nice to trust that someone else will take care of gravity for a while.
“Is this okay?”I squeeze his fingers.I don’t actually remember the last time I held anyone’s hand.
His smile is devastating.
Maybe I’m dreaming.Maybe I got clipped by that cyclist, and I’m having a wonderful delusion.
“More than okay,” he says.
The walk becomes a pleasant blur, the sky filled with the kind of gray that flattens and dulls everything it touches.Everyone is bundled up against the chill, passing blacks and blues, their eyes peeking out from beanies and scarves and puffer jackets that I want to hug close.
I feel … light.Lighter than I have in months.
“What are you going to do now?”
It’s a great question.I wish I had an answer.
I’ve always been happier when I was rushing toward something.Being stagnant is … not enjoyable.
“I honestly don’t know.”
“Well, the good news is, you don’t have to figure it out alone.”
