And before I knew it, I was back in the hut. Leaning against one of the bamboo sticks that held up the roof, avoiding his gaze as I searched for a way to explain. Part of me wanting to say something sassy, snarky—the kind of thing my mom refers to as mouthy.
I mean, how did he think I perceived what I’d seen? How would any sane person—either living or dead—perceive it?
The words practically leapt off my tongue, begging to be heard, but then, when I looked at him again, when my blue eyes stared into his dark brown ones, well, those words disappeared as a whole string of new ones jumped into their place.
“At first, I was amazed that you were really a prince. I thought for sure you lied about that.” I snuck a quick peek at him, relieved to see that he looked a lot closer to amused than offended, which I took as a sign to continue. “I felt awful when you lost everything, and even worse when I saw the beatings you suffered. And when the revolt began, well, I was seriously ready to cheer, but then…” I hesitated, seeing the way he urged me on with his rising brow and nodding head. “But then, it all started to seem like some horrible cycle of violence. Especially when I realized that the slaves were revolting so they could take over and bring in a whole new set of slaves. And it just seemed so pointless. Like a battle no one could ever truly win. An endless cycle of abuse, and it left me really sad.”
He half smiled again. Reminding me of the way the sun would peek out from the clouds on an overcast day on the earth plane, just long enough to bestow a brief hint of warmth before disappearing again and turning everything gray.
And that’s pretty much the exact moment when my second goal was added.
After making sure that Bodhi and Buttercup were freed from Rebecca’s trap, I was determined to see the prince smile for real.
Watching as he rose quickly to his feet and said, “You are right. It is a vicious cycle indeed. During my reign as prince, I kept my own set of slaves until my castle was invaded and I was sold as a slave and sent here—only to revolt against my master with the hope of taking over the island and enslaving others in the same way I’d been.” He shook his head and took his time in looking me over. “I have seen both sides of this madness, and now, after sharing that with you, and because of your deep understanding, you are ready to make the journey inside Rebecca’s world.”
12
“You will never succeed with such a method. You are going about it all wrong.”
We were standing just outside of the bubble—
No, scratch that.
The truth is Prince Kanta was standing just outside the bubble while I was pressed up against it, pounding and kicking the smooth, glossy exterior with every bit of my (undeniably measly) strength.
I glanced over my shoulder, not even trying to hide my annoyance. “Oh, yeah? So why don’t you come over and help instead of just standing there watching me fail. Why don’t you show me how it’s done, if you know so much?”
But the prince made no move to help. He just remained right where he was. Neither flinching nor wincing—not reacting to my tone or my words in any way, shape, or form. In fact, he was so still and serious, I actually wondered if he’d heard me. Though I’d yelled it so loudly, I was pretty sure it’d been impossible to miss.
I’d just turned back to the globe and was about to start pounding again when he said, “You will never succeed with resistance, Riley. In this case, as in most cases, resistance just begets more resistance. Or, in other words, what you resist—persists. Acceptance is the only way.”
Oh, brother.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head, annoyed to the point where I no longer cared if he saw.
As far as I was concerned, it was just a whole lot of psychobabble, more crazy talk coming right up, and it was getting me nowhere. For whatever reason, rather than actually helping me, he’d chosen to distract me, annoy me, and just generally waste my time instead. And once again, I’d found that I’d pretty much reached my limit with him.
I narrowed my gaze, glaring at him in such a way that I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if great plumes of smoke shot out from my nose and my ears. My voice harsh, edgy, making absolutely no further attempt at good manners, little niceties, or the smallest of pleasantries, when I said, “Listen, maybe you mean well, maybe you don’t, only you know for sure. But either way, I think you need to know that I’m pretty much done listening to these crazy philosophical riddles that I doubt even you understand.” I pushed my long, side-swept bangs off my face, tried to tuck them back behind my ears, but being just a smidgen too short, they fell right back into my eyes, so I decided to leave them there. “So either you help me break into this bubble so I can free my friends, or—”
Our eyes met.
“Or you … don’t.” I lifted my shoulders, knowing that as far as threats went, it was a pretty pathetic one, but still, at that moment, it was the best I could do. “Either way, I have no time to waste, so if you don’t mind—”
I returned to the bubble, my fist rising high above my head, just about to bring it back down and smash it hard against the side, when it was caught in midair by the prince.
His fingers circled my wrist, as his eyes bore into mine. Then slowly, with no cooperation on my part, he unfolded my fingers, one at a time. Straightening and spreading them as he lowered my palm and gently placed it onto the bubble until it was flush against the surface, his face calm, eyes kind, softly cooing in a way that strangely sent a soothing wave of calm coursing through me.
“Shhh…” He looked at me. “You must remain quiet, peaceful, and still. You must accept the situation you now find
yourself in. All of this fighting—all of this resistance—is only making it worse. Rebecca thrives on anger. It is the fuel that fires her world. And you, Miss Riley Bloom, are only aiding her.” He paused for a moment, long enough to make sure I was listening, before he continued. “Your friends are trapped, there is no getting around that. But rather than fighting what is, you must first learn to accept it. Only then will you clear a path in your mind that will lead you to the solution.”
I looked at him, looked right into those deep, mysterious eyes, and I started to say: What?
Started to say: Are you crazy? Why should I even think about accepting such a horrible thing—when I have to do whatever it takes to stop it?
But before I could get to any of that, the strangest thing happened.
The bubble’s surface, the reflective, rounded part that lay just under my fingers, began to soften and give just the tiniest bit.