The Iredale is only a shell of a ship, so the wind whips at us and Dare shoves his hair out of his face. As he does, his ring shimmers with the muted light of the sun. A sudden feeling of déjà vu overwhelms me, as though I’ve watched his ring glint in the sun before, and we’ve been here in this ship, together.
We’ve been here before in this exact place and time.
That’s all I can think as I stare at him, as I watch his ring shimmering in the light, as I watch him shake his hair in the wind.
Dare drops his hand and the feeling fades, but yet the remains of it linger like the wispy fingers of a memory or a dream.
I stare at him uncertainly, because the feeling was so overpowering.
Dare draws back and stares at me. “Are you ok?”
I nod, because God, it’s just déjà vu, Calla. It happens.
But it felt so real. I shake my head, to shake the oddness away. I can’t slip away from reality, I can’t be like Finn. God.
Dare’s hand covers my own, and we stare out at the ocean for several minutes more.
His hand is warm and strong, and I relish it. I relish the way he rests it against my back as we walk down the beach towards his bike. And I relish the way I fold against him as we ride back home. I relish it all because it’s amazing. No matter what else is going on, this is amazing.
I feel like I’m floating as I slide off the bike and stand in front of him.
We pause, like neither of us wants to call an end to this day.
Finally, Dare smiles, a slow grin, a real grin that crinkles the corners of his dark Dare Me eyes. He reaches up and tucks an errant strand of hair behind my ear, and I swear to God I have to force myself to not lean into that hand.
“Wait here,” he tells me and he disappears into his cottage, coming right back out with his picture. He presses it into my hand.
“I’ll see you soon, Calla-Lily,” he promises huskily. I nod, and watch him turn and walk away.
God, he looks good walking away.
And then I float upstairs to my room.
It’s not until I’m staring out my bedroom window and see Finn that I come crashing down.
He’s standing out on the edge of the trees.
And he’s covered in blood.
23
VIGINTI TRES
In my head, all I can see is blood as I clatter down the stairs and rush to get to my brother.
What has he done?
I race outside, but when I reach where he was standing, he’s no longer there. I spin in a circle, gazing about, but there’s no sign of him.
Until I see a flash of green from the corner of my eye, the exact color of his shirt.
Viridem.
He’s headed for the beach so I take off like a rocket, pummeling the ferns as I trip over them on my way to the shore. I skid over the rocks and the clay and the dirt, and when I hit the bottom, he’s there.
Simply standing there on the edge of the water, waiting for me, like he’s been there all along.
He stands limply, his hands at his sides, and blood runs from his elbows to his hands.