“I know what you’re going to say.” I keep my eyes fixed on the path ahead. “The odds of Oliver washing up on another island are astronomical, and the currents in these waters are unpredictable at best.”
Kieran doesn’t confirm or deny. He just continues beside me, his footsteps silent on the packed earth.
I take that as permission to continue my theorizing.
“Astronomical odds aren’t zero odds.” I’m counting on my fingers now, a habit I’ve never been able to break. “Factor one: Oliver’s a third-year with above-average magical capabilities. Factor two: the storm that hit on Halloween night had unusual properties that may have created transportive currents. Factor three?—”
“I’m not going to argue with you.”
I stop walking. “You’re not?”
“No.” His eyes meet mine. “Believing your brother’s out there keeps you moving forward. But don’t let it blind you to evidence that suggests otherwise.”
The heat signatures on the Crown. Two distinct patterns. No exit trails.
“I know what the evidence suggests.” My fingers curl into fists, since obviously I’m aware of the data I’ve collected. “But I won’t stop until I find proof I can’t argue with.”
His heat signature spikes, and he studies me the way he does a blade before deciding if it’s been sharpened enough.
“Your resolve is stronger than steel,” he finally says, continuing to watch me intensely, like he did when he shared a similar sentiment after I held my heat shield while we passed the sirens.
I can barely breathe as I try to process his words. Because I just unraveled in front of this man. I sat in the dirt and told him about bikes, skinned knees, and the brother I’m terrified I’ll never see again, and he didn’t try to fix me or rush me or lookaway. Now he’s calling my stubbornness strength for the second time, and my eyes are burning again, because I spent eighteen years in a family of overachievers who didn’t let me feel what I was feeling without turning it into a lesson or a goal.
“I don’t feel like steel right now,” I admit, quieter than I meant to.
His hand lifts, the space between his palm and my shoulder humming with warmth. Then his fingers curl back, and he gives me a single nod.
“You’re closer to it than you think.”
We walk the rest of the way without speaking, but the silence feels lighter than before, as if I left some of the weight back in the dirt where I was sitting and he picked up part of it without telling me.
The garden comes into view a few minutes later, sprawling along the eastern wall of Circe’s palace. Leaves in shades of silver and deep purple catch the moonlight, glowing from within. Flowers I’ve never seen in any botanical text pulse with bioluminescent warmth that my scanning reads as alive, each bloom radiating its own tiny heat signature. The vines twist along the walls in patterns too deliberate to be natural, curling into spirals and knots that look more like equations than overgrowth.
“Fascinating,” I whisper before I can stop myself.
Kieran’s lips twitch into what could almost be a smile. “Research mode activated?”
“More than activated. It’s in overdrive.” I crouch beside a row of violet flowers with four leaves and a bright pink center. “This garden contains botanical varieties that have been extinct in the mortal realm for centuries or longer. A researcher could spend years here cataloging and studying.”
Kieran motions to my bag. “Take that off, and I’ll gather what you need.”
My cheeks flush. Kieran Cross just looked at me and told me to take an item off my body. Albeit, it was just a bag, but my pulse doesn’t know the difference.
Taking a deep breath to get ahold of myself, I place the bag on the ground, unzip it, and we work our way through the garden systematically. I identify plants based on their physical characteristics, and Kieran does the collecting. He cuts each stem at the exact angle I specify, handles the more delicate specimens with a gentleness that looks foreign on his fingers, and wraps the cuttings in cloth without me having to ask.
“It’s full.” He does a final check of the bag’s interior and straightens. “Anything else to add?”
I take one last look at Circe’s garden, committing as much as I can to memory.
“I think we’re done here,” I finally say. “Let’s head back to the ship.”
AVERY
Lockdown loosens that night.We’re allowed to go to the dining hall, the library, the worship center, and classes.
Still, I don’t sleep.
Every time I close my eyes, the empty space where the emberlink bond should be is all I feel, continuing to get lighter when it should stay heavy.
