I know what will happen if I refuse.
But knowing and saying it aloud are two different things.
“Or what?” Declan asks, an opening in his tone that wasn’t there before.
I look up, meeting his searching gaze. “Or I return to stardust. I’m not like you, Declan. I can’t choose my course. My mother isn’t only my creator. She’s my master. I am at her mercy. Now and always.”
“Are you sure? I mean…have you ever tried?” he presses, but the storm is fading from his expression. “Tried to stop?”
“No, but…” I sigh. “You’ve never tried to jump off a cliff, but you still know what will happen if you do. It’s like that. I know it in my bones.”
His shoulders sag and he lifts a hand to thread more peaceful fingers through his shaggy hair. “This dye itches something fierce.”
“It does,” I agree. It’s seems a good time to remind him that we’re not as different as he thinks. “But you need it. And you don’t know why. Your da has been lying to you, too, Declan. Not as terribly as my mother has, but a lie is still a lie.”
“It’s not the same thing, Clara. Not even close.” He looks up, his forehead furrowing. “But that isn’t even your name, is it? I heard the bird last night. He called you…Glove.”
“Foxglove,” I murmur, then what he’s said, what it means, catches up with me and I go wide-eyed and still as a forest creature scenting danger.
“What?” Declan steps closer as I gape at him. “Are you all right?”
I shake my head, fighting to swallow past the fist pushing up my throat. “You heard them? You…understood them? Wig and Poke?”
His frown deepens. “Right. Well, the bird at least. The mouse was too quiet. I told you that.”
“I thought you meant you heard me.” My fingers tangle together as fresh terror dumps into my blood. “My words but not theirs. If you heard them… If you understood them, I—”
“Hey, there. It’s all right.” Declan reaches out, his fingers curling gently around my upper arm. “Take a breath. You look like you’re about to faint.”
“I’m not going to faint,” I say, though my head is spinning. “And this isn’t all right. If you could understand Wig and Poke, if you heard more than chirps and squeaks, then you aren’t… Then that means…”
I bite my lip, torn, but I have to tell him the truth.
Even if he doesn’t believe me.
Even if he hates me for it.
“It means you aren’t human,” I whisper.
He huffs as if I’m telling a joke. “I am human, Foxglove. I’m made the same as any other scrawny boy. Trust me, I’ve lived among enough of them to know that for sure.”
My chin wobbles back and forth. “No, you’re not, Declan. Only a creature grown in a witch’s garden can make sense of an Earwig or Skritch. If you understood them, that means…” I suck in a breath then let it spill out. “You’re one of us.”
Chapter Sixteen
Declan
I shake my head, but I can feel the blood draining from my face all the same. And when I mumble, “No. That can’t be,” my lips are numb and the words thick and soft like half-baked bread.
“It’s the truth,” Clara—Foxglove—insists, her blue eyes solemn as I’ve ever seen them. And scared, too, though I can’t guess why. “I swear, I wouldn’t lie to you.” She winces. “Or I won’t lie to you. Not ever again. I promise. For however much time I have left, I’ll only tell you the truth. As much of it as I can find.”
Time she has left…
“You said you have until the new moon rises.” I focus on something my buzzing brain can understand. “When is that?”
“Tomorrow night.” Her tone says she’s resigned to the deadline but equally determined not to work her dark magic, not ever again.
And if she’s determined to do what’s right, how can I do anything but forgive her?
Forgive her and love her for however much time we have left.
I start to reach for her but freeze as a horrible thought slithers through my head. “I…I don’t think I am what you say I am.”
Clara’s mouth curves into a sad smile. “But you are. There is no other explanation. I’ve travelled the world with Wig and Poke, and only other nightmares have ever understood them. Not even the fairy girl we met in Prague could make sense of them. I had to translate for her.” She reaches up, nervously winding a lock of her dull black hair around her finger. “She wanted to buy Wig. Keep him as a pet. She didn’t understand that he couldn’t stop his work, either. Not even if he’d wanted to go with her. Which he didn’t. He’s very attached to me. To Poke, too, though they fight like children sometimes.” Her breath rushes out as her hand drops to mine. “But don’t be scared. Your father’s kept you safe this long. As long as we get you back to the island, everything should be fine.”