“And Sophia…”
“And Sophia,” I repeat warmly.
“Hmm. That’s—so much more special now.”
“It is.”
Niklaus grasps at my back as he squirms and grunts against me again. I run a finger along his clammy, chilled skin and pull the wool blanket up higher to trap my heat inside and keep him as comfortable as possible.
I frantically reach for Niklaus’s hands. Like pressing a button in routine placements, I find the special pinpoints that help relieve pain.
Niklaus’s exhale is loud and deliberate. “That—helps.”
“One night during those winter campfires, Krimson and I begged your mom to let some secrets of the prophecy slip. Instead, she told us about a time in prison when Uncle Niles was moaning in his sleep from the burns on his back…” I say, reminiscing about that night under the stars in the Emerald Lake Forest. “She showed us how she hit pressure points on his feet to take away his pain. Showed us how to do it on someone’s hands too.”
Niklaus hums as I continue massaging him.
“I was so disappointed when she was finished. We told her that was a lousy way of distracting us from our original question. And you know what she said to me?”
An epiphany stitches into my thoughts, as if it was there all along.
“Hmm?”
“She said it wasn’t a distraction. She let me in on a secret that I’ll need one day.”
Niklaus is quiet for several seconds. His breathing growing heavier as he ponders this.
“I think she’s known this was going to happen—for a long time, Spitfire.”
“That what was going to happen?”
“This. Us. Traveling back in time. I think it was—part of the prophecy. It explains why I wasn’t allowed to hear it.” His gravelly voice is less strained than before but still hurting.
“Are you angry with her for not warning you?” I ask.
I don’t want to fill his head with ideas, but I can’t help feeling betrayed by Aunt Marilynn. If she knew this was coming…why wouldn’t she warn us? We have experienced tragic event after tragic event. We’ve been starved, beaten, abused, and tossed through time like rag dolls. We’ve been sexually violated. We’ve seen so many things that our parents worked hard to protect us from.
How could she not warn us?
“No,” he mutters, swallowing against a dry throat.
“Oh.”
“The result must outweigh the journey,” he adds.
“You think?”
Niklaus sighs with a light shrug. “My mother was born into the Crimson Kres Colony. They memorize the prophecy as soon as they learn how to read. They’re sworn to secrecy and are devoted to their beliefs that the historical figures who play out vital events are precious to the future. All I know is that the future is precious to them because for at least fifty generations after the prophecy’s end, there will be benevolent leadership.”
I look down at him skeptically.
“I don’t know how much of that I believe, but…”
“But what?”
“But we’ve seen how ugly the past is, Spitfire. I have to hope that my mother’s people are right. That everything our parents went through, everything we’re going through is going to lead to a future that—that isn’t going to hurt people the way the past does now.”
My face and neck lose blood as I hear his thoughts play out loud. They carry more weight now that he’s been scarred and tortured from the past the prophecy has aimed to be free of.
