A Battle of Blood and Stone (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 4)

I’m inside of Zora as that’s actually my voice, but more hardened.

“Zora?” I ask in my mind, saving my actual voice for Carrick.

“I told you to leave me alone,” she responds so loud that my brain seems to knock around inside my skull. Then she tries to push against me, and I feel like I’m being squeezed all over. I imagine myself digging my heels in and holding on for dear life. The pressure intensifies. I feel my grasp slipping until something pops and everything goes black.

I squeeze Carrick’s hands, and, to my relief, he squeezes back. I try to strain against the darkness to see something, but it’s utterly black without even a glimmer of light. I fight off the feeling of panic as I realize I’ve never been somewhere before that was devoid of any light, and it’s slightly suffocating.

“Why won’t you leave?” Zora asks in frustration.

I’m startled, because I assumed she pushed me out of her, but I’m starting to think she pushed me somewhere deeper. I can’t see what she’s seeing anymore, and I can feel nothing but Carrick’s hands gripping mine.

“Zora,” I say again, reintroducing myself, which seems silly. “I’m Finley. Your twin sister.”

“Get out,” she screams and I wince, not from the volume but from the anger in her voice.

“Please,” I beg. “Please give me a chance. Please just listen to me. If you do, I’ll never bother you again without an invite.”

There’s silence, but I can still feel her presence. I take that as her assent for me to continue. Hesitantly, I take a big chance that my first words don’t drive her away, but rather help to forge trust.

“I’m no friend of Kymaris,” I say softly. “She’s here in the Earth realm to conquer it, and I’m trying to stop her.”

“What do I care about your Earth realm?” she snarls condescendingly.

I choose my words carefully, trying to be as neutral as possible. “Because it’s where you’re from originally.”

I purposely don’t say, “It’s your home,” because I imagine she had some type of home these last twenty-eight years and I have no clue how she feels about it. If she hates it or loves it or has just become resigned.

Zora doesn’t respond, so I decide to continue talking in a gentle tone. I get the sense she’s like a feral animal, prone to attack or possibly run at any moment.

“Our parents thought they were having fraternal twins, but we were identical,” I say with a small smile I hope she hears in my tone.

“What’s this twin you speak of?” she asks haughtily. “You’ve used that word before, and I don’t understand what it means.”

I’m stunned into inaction. How can she not know what a twin is? Maybe fae don’t have twins so she’s never been exposed to such a thing.

“It means we were born of one egg that split in two,” I reply. “We were carried simultaneously in our mother and were born together. We’re identically the same, except your hair is white and mine is red. I saw your reflection in the mirror and we look the exact same, except for the hair.”

I can feel her ruminating, but she remains quiet.

“I didn’t know about you until a little over a month ago, and I can’t give up this idea of rescuing you from the Underworld.”

There… I said it. The reason for me contacting her.

“Who says I need to be rescued?” she demands angrily.

“Maybe rescued isn’t the right word,” I hasten to diffuse her. “Truth is… I want to meet you. You’re my sister. We share the same blood. And the world I live in is wonderful and beautiful, and I’ve seen a glimpse of where you live. It’s not… as nice. I want you to see the beauty of the Earth realm, and let me show you the wonderful sights and sounds and amazing food. I want you to feel sunlight on your face, Zora.”

My last words are roughened with emotion, because that’s only a tiny bit of what she’s been missing out on.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” she asks suspiciously.

My mind races. I have nothing to offer her. It’s not like I can send her pictures. It’s not like she can Google me.

But there might be something she can see that proves our connection. “Do you have a white feather on your leg?” I ask.

I can feel her surprise.

“Your right leg to be specific,” I continue. “It appeared the day Kymaris came out of stasis and left for the Earth realm. I think it probably appeared as the magic you were forced to hold was funneled out of you and into her.”

Zora gasps. “How did you know?”

“Because I have one, too,” I assure her. “It appeared on that same day. It was our twenty-eighth birthday. Did you know that?”