“Did something happen at work?”
He rubs a hand over his chin, purposely avoiding my gaze. “Didn’t make it to work today. Spent the day with Leftfoot instead.”
He returns his focus to me, but the move comes too late. His words were clearly veiled, and I can’t even fathom what sort of secret he’s so determined to keep.
I study his face, relieved to find my image reflected in his eyes. Last time he acted like this, that wasn’t the case. “Why would spending the day with Leftfoot leave you like this?”
“Like what?”
“Cold. Distant. Remote. Geographically close, but emotionally unavailable.”
He looks at me as though he’s just woken from a very long sleep.
“God, I’m so sorry. Is that what I’ve done?”
I bite my lip and nod.
“C’mere.” He reaches for me, clasping me at the waist as he pulls me into his arms. “I’m not trying to push you away, really.” But when his mouth tips at the side, I’m not sure I believe him. Dace’s inability to lie without giving himself away is just one of the many things I love about him.
“Dace—what’s going on? What happened today?”
He shakes his head, returns his focus to me as though willing himself to try harder. The fact that he has to will such a thing only deepens my concern. What happened to my love-trumps-evil optimist from this morning?
“It’s been a long day. A long and tiring day. You know how Leftfoot is . . .”
His breezy attitude clashes with the fine lines forming around his eyes, the grim downward tilt of his lips. Unwilling to partake in his charade, I move to untangle myself from his arms. To my surprise, he lets me.
I move about the kitchen, busying myself with gathering the correct amount of plates, napkins, and drinking glasses. Loading it all onto a tray I carry into the den where we’ll gorge on pizza and watch loads of movies where Lita will grill me about which actors I knew (and which actors I kissed) back in my former life as a Hollywood makeup artist’s jet-setting daughter. The usual plan when we don’t head for the Lowerworld.
I place the tray on the table, start to arrange all the settings, when I realize I forgot to include the red-pepper flakes Xotichl loves, and turn so quickly I smack into Dace.
“For the last time, what is going on with you?” I cry, frustrated to find him pulling away just when I need him the most.
“Daire—when was the last time you checked the prophecy?” His eyes glitter so strangely a chill slips over my skin.
I pause. Struggle to remember. Finally admitting it’s been a while. “Maybe a month—quite possibly more.” I shrug. “Why? Why is this relevant? What have you learned?”
Without a word, he grasps my hand in his and leads me out of the den, through the kitchen, and up the ramp to the office where the Codex is kept.
THIRTEEN
DACE
When the worst is confirmed, when we’ve exhausted the subject between us, all we can do is sit quietly and wait for our friends to return.
Bodies stiff, thoughts mired deep in our own private hell, when a blare of chatter and laughter bursts through the door, only to halt a few seconds later when our friends find us sitting silent and stricken with the Codex propped open before us.
Lita’s the first to react. Centering it before her, she reads the words that are branded on my brain no matter how much I’ve tried to deny them.
When air sears and water fades
When tempest winds ravage fire-scorched plains
When Shadow eclipses Sun—the Seer shall fall
Causing three worlds to descend into darkness eternal
“Okay, so what we have here is another quatrain.” Lita shrugs, pushes away from the book as though it’s not to be taken seriously. Try as she might to appear unaffected, her spooked expression betrays her. Yet, it doesn’t stop her from adding, “We averted the last prophecy, so why should this one be any different?” Her gaze searches Axel’s, seeking reassurance.