“You’re scared.”
“Yes.” I force myself to hold her gaze. “I just found out that Oliver kept massive secrets from me, and that there are torturous trials required to access hidden passages that might hold answers about what happened to him.” I take a shaky breath. “So yes, Nina. I’m scared, and overwhelmed, and I’m not going to put myself through a bloodletting, a memory sacrifice, soul-fire, and a trip to the Underworld until I’ve processed what’s happening and can be confident in my decision.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, the eternal flame continuing its endless crackling between us.
“I understand,” she finally says. “But Avery... I don’t like being lied to by people in power. I don’t think you do, either.”
“No. I don’t. But I also don’t want to make a decision this big when I can barely think straight.”
She studies me for a moment longer. “Then it sounds like you need to talk to someone who can help you think straighter.”
“Tobias,” I say simply.
“Yes.” She nods. “Tobias.”
My body relaxes at his name. Because maybe the answer to what happened to Oliver is already inside my head, buried deep, hidden behind the grief that distorted my memories.
Which means maybe I don’t need to face the trials at all.
Maybe I just need to remember what’s been taken from me.
3
JADE
My tongue feels like sandpaper,my lips are cracked and bleeding, and the accelerated healing that’s one of the perks of being star touched doesn’t do shit when you’re dying of thirst.
To make things worse, the clouds have cleared, and the sun is beating down on the deck like it has a personal vendetta against us.
“Half a cup each,” Kieran says. “That’s what we have left.”
Evie looks up from the navigation charts, her bun messier than normal. “According to Circe’s directions, we should have reached the Pillars by now. We probably have one more day of sailing, at most.”
Callie shakes the compass, as if that’ll fix it, which she’s been doing a lot of today. “Your calculations assumed we’d beableto navigate,” she points out. “It’s a little hard to do that when the compass spins like a top and the stars keep changing their minds about where they want to exist.”
Nobody argues, because nobody can.
Kieran moves around the deck, distributing our pathetic rations. Half a cup of water to Evie, half a cup to Callie, and half a cup to me.
It’s barely enough to coat my tongue.
He holds out the last portion to Logan, who’s leaning against the railing. The hollows under his cheekbones are so sharp that he looks like a sketch of the Logan I know, drawn by someone who only half-remembered the details. And his eyes, always so fierce, are unfocused and distant in a way that makes it hard to breathe.
How often has he been jumping?
Clearly a lot, although it doesn’t seem to be getting us anywhere. Because we’re still out in this stupid sea, being burned by the stupid sun, running out of food and water.
“Give mine to the others,” he says, his voice strained.
“No.” The word rips out of me. “You look like death.”
“I’m fine.”
He’s so obviouslynotfine that I want to scream. Iwouldscream, if I had the energy.
Evie sets down the charts again, concern cutting through her exhaustion. “You’re not fine,” she states the obvious. “You need water, just like the rest of us.”
Kieran steps closer, extending the cup further. “Take it.”
