Ethan was convinced his abilities would come back. He was certain that James’s Shadows needed time to recover, and that when he was well again, he would be able to draw the Shadows of the world and shape them as he used to. He wanted James to practice harder. Try more. Get out of bed and go downstairs. He wanted James to speak to his friends—Zach especially. But Ethan didn’t understand. He couldn’t know just how broken James was.
James’s hands started to shake, the trembling in his fingers setting off waves through the Shadows, distorting and twisting the already warped throwing stars until they were nothing more than misshapen lumps of darkness. Sweat dripped down his back, fire burned its way along his arms, and his heart thudded painfully as he tried to hold onto his weapons. Tried… and failed.
He opened his hands, letting the Shadows fade away, and stumbled back to collapse heavily on the bed just as someone knocked softly on his door.
Bryn always hammered on the door and Ethan generally called out before knocking, so there was only one person it could be. James sighed. “Come in, Kay.”
The door creaked open and she padded over to the bed, her hair mussed and her eyes tired. James had told them all that he was fine, that he didn’t need them hovering over him. But since Zach had left, Ethan and Kay had insisted on sleeping in Bryn’s tiny living room so that they could check up on him. As if he needed even more weight on his conscience.
Kay rested her hand on his forehead, her fingers warm and reassuring. Her callouses brushing over his sweaty skin were almost as familiar as his own. How many times had they sparred? Trained? Laughed and worked together? She was his sister in everything but blood. And he didn’t deserve her kindness.
He couldn’t remember everything. It was a miracle he could remember anything at all, given the terrifying blanks in his memory. But he did remember Kay on her knees as his Shadows exploded all over her. He didn’t think he would ever forget.
“I’m sorry, Kay. So fucking sorry.” His voice came out dry and rasping. Kay passed him a glass of cold water and he sipped it gratefully, even as he wished he didn’t need her help. Didn’t have to look into her face and remember.
She took the glass and then sat beside him, leaning forward with her elbows resting on the top of her thighs. “I forgive you, James. I told you that already.”
That was Kay. Loyal and honest, and so determined to save him. Just being near her hurt. But it was a pain that he deserved. And he deeply, fervently, wished it might have been possible for him to be saved.
If that was true, then one day he could go to the woman he’d hurt as much as Kay, the woman whose hands would never touch him again, and ask for her forgiveness too.
Did she already know? Had she heard about what he’d done? Did she hate him now? Or did she wonder where he was? Was she safe in her bed, smelling of fresh air and sunlight? Did she miss him?
He didn’t dare to call her. Didn’t dare to draw attention to her. If Gordon knew what she meant to him, he could make James do anything he wanted. Anything at all.
Even when he’d been deep under Gordon’s influence. Even when he’d been completely controlled and manipulated and riddled with blood Shadows, he’d known to keep her out of it. And nothing would make him risk her now.
It had occurred to him to tell Kay, to ask them all to keep her safe. But how could they possibly do that? If they included her in this—whatever this rebellion was—then she would be in danger. It was better to keep her entirely out of it. Keep her safe and hidden and uninvolved. She might hate him for it, but she almost certainly hated him already anyway. And if she didn’t, it was only a matter of time.
“Was it the same dream?” Kay asked, pulling him back from the dark tunnel he’d started down. In a way, the physical horror of the dreams was a relief from his regrets and his grief over everything he’d lost.
“It’s always the same. The same darkness and confusion.” He didn’t tell her about the agony, the way his blood burned inside him, and the voice that echoed through his thoughts again and again. But she knew anyway. Kay knew his fears and why he screamed in his dreams. She’d experienced some of it herself.
She reached out to pat his arm. “Do you think Gordon might come here?”
It was a legitimate question. Would Gordon come after more of the people Kay loved?
“I doubt it. No one here is threatening his plans. If he were to send someone to attack Elizabeth and Bryn, it would cause upset. Enough people in the Order would take their side that it could cause a rift. He won’t want to deal with that kind of dissension while he’s finalizing his plans. Afterward….” He let his sentence fade. Afterward, none of them would be safe. Which was exactly why he had to keepherfar, far away.
James leaned back on the wall behind his bed and sipped his water. All he did was sleep, but he was still so damn exhausted.
Kay grunted. “And you? Won’t he come for you?”
James swallowed against the rawness in his throat. “I expect Gordon’s already told everyone that I’m insane. Sure, he’ll want his revenge, but it can wait. When he’s Archdderwydd he can do whatever he wants.”
Kay shook her head. “David explained that you’re recuperating from an accident. No one’s saying any different.”
James snorted. “The Council belongs to Gordon. I very much doubt they tell David anything useful, and they won’t much care what he’s saying to his Circle. Gordon will have told them that I went rogue—that’s all they’ll care about. They’ve probably already agreed to Shadow strip me.”
Kay flinched, hard, and James covered her hand with his. “It’s okay. I… I probably deserve it.”
“No.” She twisted beside him until she could look directly at him in the dim light. “No, you don’t. You did bad things, but only because Gordon made you. We just have to prove it.”
Fuck. Her faith in him was even more humbling than the way his dreams made him feel. So very small and unworthy. But her certainty helped. She never lied or held back the truth. If Kay was convinced that they could defeat Gordon, maybe they could.
“Hang on.” Kay frowned. “What did you mean about the Council?”
“The Council belongs to Gordon,” James repeated slowly.
