“And what truth is that?” Zeph bites back.
“That it doesn’t matter who she is, was, or what she could be, she’s mine. I’m not going to waste another breath pretending otherwise.”
“She could be the solution to all of this. Are you saying you won’t do what needs to be done if the time comes?”
“I’m saying it’s more complicated than that,” Ryn growls. “We called, she answered. I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t matter, that she doesn’t matter.”
I blink and suddenly, instead of blackness all around me, I can picture Ryn and Zeph perfectly. We’re in some kind of cave. It’s huge, and there’s a massive fire in the middle of it. I can see the legs of a body on the far side of the fire, and my heart slams in my chest as Treno’s name pounds in my head.
Zeph stands, his massive wings folded against his back, blood dripping steadily from a gash on his side. His honey eyes watch Ryn like he’s still deciding if he wants to riphimapart. His demeanor doesn’t shock me. The sky shadow pretty much always looks like that, but there’s an undercurrent of defeat and rage that normally isn’t there.
Ryn on the other hand looks downright terrifying. The normally easygoing and snarky gryphon wears a solid mask of betrayal and rage. I’ve never seen him look this pissed, and I just watched him find out that his sister sold him out. Not eventhatinduced this level of anger. I can feel the phantom of a wall against my back, and I realize that I’m watching all of this from the deep shadows of whatever cave we’re in.
I question for a moment if this is real. I shouldn’t be up and spying given what just happened to me, but then I remember the weird dreams I’ve been having with Zeph. This feels like one of those. Just as that thought flickers through my mind, Zeph’s honey gaze snaps to my shadow shrouded hiding place.
“She’s here,” he announces quietly, his tone vacillating between shock and confusion.
Ryn steps more into the light and follows Zeph’s focused gaze. He looks like shit. Half his face is swollen, tight and shiny and mottled with black and purple bruises. He’s bleeding from a cut on his head, and small rivers of blood break up the black and purple landscape of his face. His hair is matted and dirty, his clothes torn, tattered, and stained with red streaks and splotches. I can’t tell if it’s his blood or someone else’s. It’s probably a combination of both, but I’m completely shocked by the state he’s in. How is he up and walking?
I notice he’s holding one arm close to his chest as he looks from the shadows I’m standing in to Zeph. And he has a pink line across his throat like something scratched him there. I look over to Zeph to see the same mark on his neck.
“Who’s here?” Ryn asks warily, like he’s not sure he wants the answer.
“Our little sparrow.”
Zeph’s nickname for me drips off his full lips, and confusion flickers through Ryn’s battered face. His head snaps to a place on the other side of the fire that I can’t see.
“She’s still out,” he observes, his gray gaze moving back to Zeph and then once again to me in the corner where Zeph’s still staring.
Can Ryn not see me?
I step out of the darkness, and Ryn’s widening panic-filled eyes answer that question.
“What is going on?” he demands, looking from me to the other me that I’m assuming is lying on the other side of the fire. Terror floods Ryn’s features, and he scrambles toward my body. “No no no no no no no,” he chants. “She can’t be dead. Falon, you are not allowed to die,” he yells at me, and if his tone wasn’t so heart-wrenching, it would be funny and irritating that even in death, he’s trying to order me around.
A keening sound pours out of his throat, and I clutch at my chest. The sound feels like it’s ripping me apart. I’ve never heard anything like it, and the lamentation sinks into my soul and settles there, promising to be something I never forget for the rest of my life.
“She’s still breathing,” he exclaims, shocked, his head snapping back up to where I’m standing, and he scrambles back over to where Zeph is still just watching me.
I can’t decipher what the sky shadow’s face and eyes are communicating.
“You’re not dead...we’re not dead?” Ryn announces, like somehow saying it out loud will help him wrap his brain around what’s happening.
“So those dreams?” I ask Zeph, needing to confirm what I already suspect.
I’m here, and yet I’m not here at the same time.
“Not dreams, it seems,” he answers, his demeanor still oddly calm.
“What happened?” I ask, trying to make sense of what’s going on.
“You almost...died,” Ryn replies, his tone devastated and confused.
“Treno?” I ask, my chest hurting. I move to go check on him where he’s lying unmoving by the fire, but Zeph steps in my way.
“He’s still breathing too,” Ryn explains, stealing my attention back to him.
I’m confused, and everything feels muffled as I slowly try to make sense of what’s happening.
