“I am sorry, Lullaby.” I took a deep breath. “Whether I meant to or not, I hurt you. And for that, I’m truly sorry. Please forgive me.”
“Sorryis the word of a liar or a changed woman.” Lullaby shrugged. “So I guess we’ll see. Let’s keep walking.”
I trailed her down the passageway in silence.
“I thought you might say you chose him over me because you’re in love with him,” Lullaby said baldly. “Are you?”
“How should I know?” I sounded a little desperate. “I’ve never been in love before. Have you?”
“No.”
I cast my memory back over all the conversations I’d had with her and Thibo. I could have sworn— “What about Blossom?”
Lullaby’s shoulders stiffened. “What about her?”
“I thought you said—well, Thiboimplied—”
“I just liked spending time with her. We didn’t kiss, or really touch. I didn’t want to, even though it … came up, sometimes.”
“Oh.” I mulled over her words. “Maybe you don’t like girls that way? Maybe a boy—?”
“You’re not listening.” Lullaby was curt. “I’m not interested in anyone that way. I love my friends—Scion help me, I even love my family. But I don’t love anyone the way the rest of you seem to bein love.The way Thibo loved Mender. The way you love Sunder.”
I held my tongue at her last comment. “Does that bother you?”
She considered this. “Not really. Does it bother you?”
I smiled at her. “Why should it?”
“It bothered Thibo.” She lifted her slender eyebrows. “He couldn’t fathom why anyone wouldn’t want to constantly be kissing someone else.”
“I mean—” I made a helpless gesture and hoped we were back to being able to joke with each other. “He’s not wrong. I kind of want to kiss you right now.”
“Shut up!” She shoved me, playful, but a moment later her face grew sad. “I miss him.”
“So do I,” I whispered.
A struggle warped Lullaby’s face. “You barely knew him.”
“I know. I didn’t know him as well as I wanted. I didn’t treat him as well as I should have. I didn’t protect him like I ought to. But I still miss him.”
Slowly, Lullaby nodded.
“I’m looking for him, you know. If he’s out there, I’ll find him. I promise.”
Surprise played across her fine features. “You think he’s still alive?”
“His heart was still beating, the last time I saw him,” I managed, around a sudden lump in my throat. “Which means I can hope.”
Impulsively, Lullaby reached out and clasped her slender fingers in mine. Then she danced ahead, her lambent voice lilting off the walls. “Hurry up! These tunnels aren’t going to explore themselves!”
I followed her with my eyes, brimming with gratitude and the warm rush of being forgiven. But strangely, as she whirled and spun down the corridor, I saw a pale glow just past the next turn in the hallway. I frowned. I knew my illusions like I knew my own heart—I knew their bright contours as well as the shadows hiding in their valleys. This light was different—a pale shimmer of ice-chased glass, or a memory of a chilly Nocturne. I quickened my footsteps. The light waxed brighter, casting my friend in silhouette.
“Lullaby!” I shouted.
But she had already stumbled to a halt, her hand braced against the wall. I heaved up beside her, breathing hard. My breath stopped when I saw what Lullaby had found.
The passageway fell away from our feet into a sawtooth chasm. Dark pebbles skittered into a blaze of impossible light—light I barely had words for. Our world was scorched red and black—this light was luminous ice to its dim fire. It cut through me like paper, slicing through skin and bone until it tossed my heart open and laid the whole of me bare. It made me wild and wondrous and worshipful. And I knew it for what it was—moonlight.
