I shake my head, feeling bewildered. “I don’t remember any of this.”
“You were barely five years old,” he says. “I was nearly eight by then. And horribly jealous.”
“You were just a child.”
“No excuse,” he says bitterly. “Especially when that jealousy led to such horror.”
My pulse quickens, anxiety filling my stomach with stones.
“When our parents realized that the city was under attack, they had a feeling it was timed that way because we were there visiting. After all, we’d traveled for three weeks across Annwyn. There was plenty of time for the monarchy’s spies to inform them we were heading for Bryol. Our parents hadn’t considered the risk of all of us being together in one place. But that night, they realized their mistake. Soldiers came with blades and magic to destroy the city so that it could look like an insurgent attack instead of an execution of a bloodline.”
My throat gets tight, and I slip my hand through Slade’s, needing his touch. His grip tightens around mine, keeping me steady while my world spins.
“I had snuck out of bed to grab food from the kitchen, and I heard them talking. Heard the commotion from the Vulmin at the front door. Our parents soon figured out what was happening and why the city was under attack. They wanted to protect us, so they used a few Vulmin guards to sneak out all the children on our street. They were going to hide us outside the city walls until it was safe. But our parents…they were goingto turn themselves in. Exchanging their capture with a cease of hostilities. To spare the lives of everyone else who lived in Bryol.”
My eyes go wide. It feels like a fist just grabbed hold of my heart and burst it open.
“Of course, they lied to our parents. Accepted the exchange but then killed them in cold blood. Then they still destroyed the city and nearly everyone in it.”
“What about us?” I ask tightly, feeling my eyes swarm with tears.
“Our Vulmin guards never got us out of the city. They were attacked by a group, I don’t know who. But while the fighting was happening, everyone was distracted, and I…snuck away. Without you.”
He says those words like one would swing an ax. One blow after the other. Hitting in deep. Ready to make something topple.
In this case, it’s me.
“You were scared,” I offer, though the words feel numb. “You were just acting on impulse.”
Wick shakes his head, and his expression turns angry. “Don’t do that,” he grinds out. “Don’t give excuses for my behavior.” He looks me dead in the eye, and a tear escapes down my cheek. “I was standing right next to you, Auren. I could’ve just taken your hand and run. I could’ve gotten us both away. But I didn’t. I looked at you, and I just…went.” His voice rasps. “Ileftyou.”
More tears well up in my eyes. And they burn. Right down to my chest.
I left you.
I squeeze Slade’s hand hard. He grips me firmly in return. He’s the only person who hasn’t ever left me. Who’s always been here, holding me together through it all.
When Wick sees the agony in my face, his shoulders slump, head bowing from the weight of his shame. “I left you and then tried to find our parents, but I saw them get murdered. Then I ran. I tried to go back and find you, but you were gone. And I knew…”
He chokes with thickened emotion.
I’m spinning, with a ground that won’t still. I’m remembering what the ruins of Bryol looked like when he took me there. Filling in the gaps with his words.
“I made it out of the city somehow,” he says. “Walked all the way to a nearby village. My father always told me to look for the Vulmin symbol because I could trust them. I found a fae wearing the pin there, and he took me in. But I never told him or anyone else my real name. Never told them I was a Turley. All they knew was that I was an orphan from the Bryol attack. I didn’t want them to know anything else. I was ashamed of what I’d done, and I knew that my parents would have been ashamed of me too. That I’d failed them. Failed you.”
A tear tracks down his russet cheek, and he digs the heels of his hands into his eyes like he can shove it back in. Shove away the guilt and regret.
It’s difficult to imagine what would have happened if I’d been able to sneak away with Wick. Difficult to come to terms with how different my life could have been.
I wipe at my eyes and take a shaky breath. “So that’s why you didn’t tell me. When we first met in Geisel.”
He nods. “Sometimes, feelings build up and become our foundation. Shame and guilt aren’t like pages in a book. I couldn’t simply turn it over and move past it. This regret…I’ll carry it for the rest of my life.”
I try to imagine what he looked like as a little boy. Try to jar my thoughts to remember.
But…Ididremember something.
When I was falling through the rip, I heard a little boy’s voice calling my name. Somehow, with intense certainty, I know that it was him. That it was Wick calling my name. That was us when we were happy and playful, laughing together and untouched by tragedy.
