A pang deep within my chest sounds like a warning. I tamp it down farther. “Yes.”
Her hands slowly move from my face to my temples, where her touch—that can be lethal; the hands of a trained protector—is delicate. And she embraces me like I’m delicate. Breakable.
I realize what she’s doing. What she couldn’t do in the Cage. She’s not trying to heal me, or even attempting to banish Bale. She’s trying to prolong my sanity. If I didn’t believe the goddesses had already abandoned me, doomed me to hell, I’d pray that Kal’s healing touch could do just that.
The fire-hot warning swarming in my chest shoots to my head, splintering. Painful slivers of light slink through the cracks, and slowly, begin to consume me whole. Blinding. A scream rips from my throat. Her hands are off me.
Stumbling back, I blink hard, my vision impaired. Mental debris churns in my head, beating the walls of my brain with agonizing force. I fall to my knees. The ocean seeps into my skin, the salt grating.
Bale might not be present, but she’s far from gone. She won’t allow Kal to help me. The selfish bitch. Now, I don’t have a choice. I have to sate the need tearing through me. If I don’t, I’ll go completely, utterly mad. I just want a few moments of peace. Just one bleeding second of clarity. With Kal.
I climb to my feet and splash through the shore toward her. Grab her wrists and lock them together between us.
“No, Caben,” she pleads. And the whimper quivering her voice sends a thrill skittering over my raw skin. “This isn’t you. Fight it.”
A soft sigh falls from my lips. “I promised you, Kal. I told you that you’d be mine.” I snatch her close and press my mouth against her ear. “Remember—I keep my promises.”
? 24 ?
Kaliope
I’M BEING DRAGGED TOWARD a glass house in the trees. It towers over the cove, threatening. Skeletal. And ridiculously, the first coherent thought to leave my mouth since Caben’s apparent mental determination isn’t about his state of mind at all.
“This is your hideout,” I say.
“Was,” he responds. “Now it’s ours.”
I wrench my hand free of his hold and stop. My legs ache, and even though I won’t fight him about going into this place, I want evidence.
He turns around to face me. “We lack time, love.”
“Why are you bringing me here? Won’t your Otherworlders be here soon?” I look past the house into the woods, searching for a sign that they’re already here. The battle probably ended hours ago.
Caben crosses his arms over his chest. “Surprisingly, the Otherworlders follow orders well. They’re to return to the Otherworld to await their goddess. There’s nothing more I need from them.”
“But Lake? Your mother?” A small swell of hope surfaces that this is where Bax was taken. “Bax knows this location, doesn’t he?” I want to hear Caben say he didn’t instruct Lake to kill my friend.
Caben shrugs. It’s such a normal, Caben thing to do—it makes my stomach clench.
“He’s not to hurt Bax. Don’t worry. Your mutant is safe. But no one is going
to be a last minute hero. Lake will keep Bax and his family guarded until tomorrow. Then he’ll return to his home with the others. I trust your Nactue to keep my mother well-tended. What other choice do I have?” He looks out over the ocean before moving closer to me.
I restrain myself from reaching out to him. He’s volatile; I don’t know what action will set him off. But I still want to offer him some comfort where his mother is concerned. “She’s safe, Caben. I can assure you that. No matter what happens…the Nactue will protect her.” I omit that I don’t know for how long.
Once Bale is corporal and free to terrorize this realm, I don’t know if anyone will survive. I’m sure the dark goddess will exact revenge on anyone who threatened her ascension. The Nactue, Empress Iana, Bax, Caben’s mother…they’re all most likely at the top of her list.
“Will you come with me now?” Caben offers his hand.
Whiplash. It’s the only way I can explain; emotional whiplash. One second he’s asking me, the next he’s demanding. I try to set aside my upbringing. That inner voice insisting I correct him—like that first day which feels so long ago when I met the annoying, cocky prince of Perinya.
Instead, I accept his outstretched hand. Warm and comforting, despite the cool air cloaking us. Then he leads me toward his glass treehouse.
Like something out of a fairytale. A dark one.
The sanded wooden rungs are slippery with mist off the ocean as I climb. Caben is right below me, patiently following my slow advance. I’d be a terrible liar if I didn’t admit I’m thrilled as much as I’m afraid. It’s like we’re back in the Otherworld, alone and locked away—but without the imposing cell bars. Certain death remains; that’s the one, terrible sameness. Then, it was not knowing if we’d survive the battles against the contenders.
Now, it’s a loud, ticking countdown till Bale’s resurrection.