Dorothy
“A soul?” I repeat, but Henrietta closes her eyes and mutters to herself, her thinning brow furrowed deeply.
After several minutes, her eyes snap open and she says, “There’s nothing else to tell.”
“But—” I start.
“Off you go,” she says, ignoring my question, ushering us out.
We’re led back through the gauzy curtain into the main part of the shop. I’m disappointed, but Rook seems unfazed. I wanted more. I wanted answers. Not nebulous warnings and hazy proclamations.
Rook goes to the front door and pulls it open, and the bell rings.
I move to follow him, but Henrietta grabs me by the wrist and pulls me back. “One moment alone with the girl.”
Rook narrows his eyes.
I frown. Is this some kind of trick? “I don’t have any money to give. The money was his and you said—”
“This one is on the house.”
A seed of excitement blooms in my chest. Maybe she’ll tell me how to get home and I won’t have to travel the rest of this cursed land. I won’t have to beg the wizard to see me.
“Will you wait for me outside?” I ask Rook.
“Of course.” He slips through the door, leaving me alone.
“What did you—”
“Are you in love with him yet?” Henrietta cuts me off.
“What?” The word comes out a shout laced with nervous laughter. “Sorry. I… we’ve just met, he and I.”
Henrietta raises her brow. “I don’t judge love’s timeline.”
My excitement deflates. This has nothing to do with home. In fact, I’m starting to doubt everything she told Rook because this seems so far-fetched as to be a fairy tale.
“We are not lovers,” I tell her. Even though I did technically kiss him and I did technically lust over the man eating a damn raspberry.
Henrietta grabs my other arm, her fingers like a vise. Skin to skin now, heat races from her touch, and yet, I’m shivering. “A warning.” She leans in close and lowers her voice. “Yours is the kind of love that changes the wind and breaks the stars.” Her intensity practically vibrates up my arm. “Yours is the kind of love that ignites everything it touches.”
A thrill rises up my throat, stealing a breath.
I glance over my shoulder to the mullioned windows in the front of the shop where Rook stands waiting outside. He smiles at a group of Enders as they pass, and several of them turn to each other and whisper, then giggle, their gazes lingering on him as they disappear from sight.
There is a voice in the deep, dark recesses of my mind that says I can’t possibly fall for this enigmatic man when he doesn’t even know who he is, when he could be anyone with any sordid past.And apparently no soul.
But there is another voice, one not so timid, one that is bold and daring, that says,Why not?
Why must I always do the safe, predictable thing?
As if he can sense my attention, Rook turns back to me,catching my gaze through the window. His smile widens and he winks.
The thrilling energy practically hums on the back of my tongue.
He could be anyone, but he could also be mine.
That is, if I believe in fortunes and predictions of the future. If I believe in love that ignites. I’m not sure I do. Even Henry and Em, who love each other more deeply than anyone I’ve ever met, don’t have that kind of all-consuming love. Their love is gentle and quiet and beautiful. There is nothing destructive about it.
