Axel drops his gaze to the floor. “I can’t discuss it. It’s . . . sacred.”
“But you’re no longer part of the team, remember? You’re not even a benchwarmer. For all intents and purposes, you were dropped.”
He sighs. Unable to resist her, he says, “Even as guides, we’re not created perfect.”
“But you were more than a guide, right? You were a Mystic.”
“Still, like them, I had my own quirks to overcome. And so we were often assigned charges with similar issues.”
“And what were your issues? What are Dace’s issues?” I ask, hoping for a fresh perspective, a new angle I might’ve missed.
“We’re both rebels at heart.”
I sit with that, trying to decide if it’s good or bad.
“We’re eager to please, but only up to a point. We have a fierce sense of right and wrong, and we’ll do whatever it takes to protect it.”
Our eyes meet, and I know what he’s thinking: Dace is being led by the beast—his moral boundaries are blurred.
But I see it differently. Dace’s light has always been one of his most defining features—I refuse to believe it could be snuffed so easily. But when I share the thought with my friends, they respond with the same distrusting look I’ve grown used to seeing.
“Don’t forget, Dace is a split soul,” I press. “He encompasses the good half—the light half—while Cade encompasses the dark.”
“Not anymore . . .” Lita mumbles under her breath, causing everyone to shift uncomfortably.
“The potential to choose darkness was always there,” Axel says. “He did have free will. But he always chose to rise above it. Until . . .”
“Until I came to town.”
“It was fated.” He shrugs. “Of course I didn’t know that back then.”
“So, if you didn’t have a road map,” Xotichl asks, “how’d you know when to be in the Lowerworld on Christmas Eve to save him—only you ended up saving Daire instead?”
“Usually we don’t get the signal until just a few moments before. There’s not a lot of time to prepare. But with Dace, I’d been worried for days. I didn’t like the way things were progressing, and so I did the forbidden—I peeked at his Soul Book.”
We stare at him wide-eyed.
“So it exists!” Xotichl squeals, causing us to shift our attention her way. “It’s said that everyone has one. It’s a record of all that was, is, and will be. Paloma told me about it early on in her teachings.”
“Oh, it’s real,” Axel says. “And it was strictly forbidden for someone like me.”
“But his Soul Book must’ve been wrong,” Lita says. “Because Daire died instead of Dace.”
“Words contain energy, and energy is subject to transformation and change. Our thoughts guide our actions which in turn determine the lives that we lead. Every action has a series of probable reactions or outcomes . . .”
“And Dace deciding to steal a bit of Cade’s soul changed his future?”
“Looks like.”
“Was that when you decided to look?” Lita asks.
“I failed that night. I understood his motivation, but I tried my best to urge him against it. Though he was good at shutting me out, and he made that leap without looking back. Shortly after, I stole a glimpse of his book, and you know the rest.”
“What about your book? Do you have one? And if so, what does it say about me—about us?” Lita sits up straighter, eager to get a sneak peek into their future.
“It’s like I said, energy is subject to change and transformation. Nothing is written in stone . . .” His voice drifts along with his gaze.
Lita frowns, her shoulders deflate, and figuring we could all use the distraction, I say, “Well, the good news is . . .” I pause until I’m sure I have their attention. “Jennika just wrapped a movie and the costume designer agreed to let us borrow some of the gowns they used to wear at the Rabbit Hole party.”