Seeker

  My breath catches with surprise. I have only been to Brazil once, but I remember it perfectly. And I can’t believe that Rael was there. “You saw me?”

  “Yes. You came up a dirt alley, and then dipped below a roof where I lost sight of you for a moment. Then you emerged again holding a small child at your hip. For a moment I thought you were a kidnapper. But I’ve seen this type of human, and though they take every shape, it didn’t seem right. Perhaps that’s why I followed you. Perhaps it’s why I tried delving into your mind. I couldn’t do it. And at that moment, of course, I knew you were a Seeker.

  “In truth, I debated putting an end to your life. Daryn—I say this because I want you to know the full extent of what I was. Fueled by fear and hatred. But, for reasons that are beyond me, I did not. I followed you instead.

  “You took the little girl to a cafe. There were dried tracks of tears on her grimy face. She did not speak English, and you did not speak Portuguese, but as I recall, you both spoke the language of sweets. You bought her some kind of fruit tart. Then some kind of pastry dusted with sugar. Then some kind of fried dough concoction. You wiped the girl’s mouth with a napkin and smiled at her. You played a game, having her guess which of your hands held a coin. Very soon, perhaps partly because of the extreme quantities of sugar flooding her very small system, she was belly laughing. When you were finished, you took her right back to where you found her and, in that instant, on that little girl’s face, I saw pure and unbridled happiness.”

  “She was precious. I remember her, too. I fell in love with her in that hour. Why are you telling me this?”

  “You gave her more than a moment of happiness that day—you gave her hope that she could carry as long as she wished. Perhaps I’m wrong, but … Seeking is as much about keeping hope as it is about finding. Giving hope, sustaining it—what Seeking could be done without that? You gave that little girl hope, and you’ve done so for me as well. So. If you’re getting that part right most of the time, which I know you are, then you’re a very good Seeker indeed. And,” he adds, tipping his head, “we will find him.”

  A massive wave of gratitude sweeps over me and, for an instant, I glimpse the glory of what he once was. Feeling the impulse to hug him, I step forward before I realize what I’m doing and stop myself.

  Rael’s back straightens suddenly in surprise. A warm amber light glows behind him, brightening. Huge golden wings unfurl at his back, ten feet high or more. They brush past branches as they open, fanning wide.

  Even in the fading daylight, they’re brilliant.

  Majestic.

  Stunning.

  The look on Rael’s face as he sees them is utter disbelief.

  But the wings begin to rain gold feathers as soon as they’re fully extended. They flutter down one by one, then by the dozen. In seconds, there’s nothing left at his back. The wings are no more than piles of feathers melting into the dirt by his feet, disappearing.

  I don’t dare say a word.

  Silently, we mount up and ride back to Gray Fort.

  I glance at him as the last of the day’s light leaves the woods.

  His face is pale and his eyes are distant.

  He was trying to cheer me, but something far more profound just happened to him, and I can tell he needs time to absorb its impact.

  Rael is shaken to the core.

  * * *

  I’m still thinking about his reaction as I submerge into the bath one last time. The water has been lukewarm for a while and my fingers are shriveled, but I feel reinvigorated. If Rael is right and Seeking is about keeping hope alive, then I can do that. I pull myself out of the tub, dress, and head downstairs.

  The sound of conversation leads me to the kitchen. I find Rayna and Torin busy with food preparation. Rael is in there, too. Sitting at the farm table at the center of the room as he talks to them. I hear Sebastian’s name from his lips, his voice jovial, like he’s reminiscing about his friend, but he falls silent when he sees me.

  He breaks into a smile. He’s himself again: casually elegant, composed. No trace of the shaken Rael from earlier.

  “There you are,” he says, standing. “Is this all right? I thought we could eat here. It’s more comfortable than the formal dining room.”

  He’s changed into gray slacks and a loose black button-down. He’s also bathed—and he looks … handsome. I immediately feel stupid for thinking so. First, it’s irrelevant. And second, now I feel ridiculous for wearing the same clothes I’ve worn for a week—and coming down here with wet hair piled in a top knot.

  “Of course. This is fine.”

  He pulls out my chair for me and sits across from me.

  “Just about ready,” Rayna calls over her shoulder.

  “This is going to sound odd, but I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages,” Rael says. His fingers tap on the stem of a wineglass and I’m reminded of how ancient he is. Maybe ages isn’t an exaggeration to him. He must think I’m so young—a child.

  “I know. I feel the same way.” We’ve spent a lot of time together over the past three days. Searching for Gideon. Touring Gray Fort. Talking. His company is beginning to feel normal. The time we spent apart just now somehow felt much longer than a couple of hours. That reminds me. “Thank you for trying to find Gideon today. I didn’t get a chance to thank you earlier.”

  “Of course. I’m sorry we didn’t find him, but we’ll try again tomorrow.”

  I nod. “That sounds good.” All I see are echoes of those golden wings spreading behind him. Had he seen a glimpse of what his future might look like if I let him leave the Rift? Had he seen his “new beginning”?

  Rayna lifts a steaming pot off the stove and rushes toward the garden door. “The door, Torin. The door, the door, the door.”

  We both stop to watch them—two people working as a single entity. One commanding, the other obeying. It’s so innocuous. Just part of how they operate. But I think of what Rael’s told me about Ra’om. Another command-and-obey duo—but not at all as innocent.

  “Do you miss the Kindred?” I ask.

  “No.”

  “None of them?”

  “Not at all. We weren’t friends, Daryn,” he says simply. “We were united by our weakness. I don’t miss that. Do you miss home?”

  “Yes. Terribly.”

  “What is that like? Terrible missing?”

  “It’s always with you. It never leaves you.” It’s what I feel for Gideon, too. “Haven’t you ever felt that?”

  “Not for a person. I feel it for my wings.”

  I nod, understanding. That’s what I saw on his face earlier, exactly. Terrible missing.

  We sit in comfortable silence for a moment.

  Rayna returns with the now-empty pot. Torin, as usual, trails behind her. “Torin, the pie’s going to burn. The pie, the pie, the pie,” she says.

  “He hears better when you say things in threes,” Rael says dryly.

  “I do not, Rael,” Torin says. He hustles past Rayna to take the pie plate out of the wood-burning oven. It’s not burnt. The crust looks golden and crispy.

  Rayne slices portions of the chicken pie for us with industrious movements. Everything is a task here. Something to be done that needs to be done again the next day. I’m starting to see why Rael and Bas became so close. Bas, with all his fun and stories, would’ve provided sorely needed levity.

  Steam breaks through the crust of the pie, and the aromas in the kitchen become even more mouthwatering.

  As Rael and I eat, Rayna continues to whirl around the kitchen, prepping tomorrow’s meals and ordering Torin around.

  Rael smiles at me across the table. “Dinner and entertainment,” he says.

  “I like it, like it, like it,” I say.

  He grins. “You would have loved Sebastian’s take on them.”

  “I was just thinking about that. And I will love it. I’ll ask him about it when I see him again.”

  Rael nods. “You should.” His gaze drops to his foo
d, the unspoken question looming loudly between us.

  Will he see Bas again?

  I feel my face warm, and my stomach tightens. I set my fork down, the significance of my role hitting me again.

  Is he forgivable?

  If I’m going to do this, I need to understand better. I need to know more.

  I wait until Rayna and Torin excuse themselves for the night. With them gone, the kitchen feels especially quiet. Rael slides his plate away. His expression goes from content to prepared, like he knows what’s coming. I feel it, too. Like I’m rolling up my sleeves and getting down to work.

  “What made you decide to change?” I ask. “Besides curiosity over Bas?”

  He doesn’t reply for a long moment. “Do you mind if we walk? I could use some air.”

  “Great idea.” I could use some air, too.

  We leave through the garden door and take the path toward the stables. The cool air holds the smell of freshly turned soil. There’s no storm tonight or even any clouds, just stars.

  The quiet woods surrounding Gray Fort.

  Harrows.

  And Gideon—and Riot.

  We walk in silence for a while. Again, I notice how easy it is to be with him. That has to count for something. Gut feeling.

  Suddenly, I see a vivid image of Gideon’s left arm in my mind. The neat scars on his strong wrist that I kissed not too long ago.

  Rael did that.

  No. Samrael did that.

  And he’s done much worse to other people.

  Do I ask him how many people he’s killed?

  Does it matter?

  I saw several with my own eyes in the fall—isn’t knowing that much enough?

  “I suppose regret is a good place to begin,” Rael says, interrupting my anxiety spiral. He slips his hands into his pocket, and our pace slows. We’re near the stables now. The paddock, which reminds me of Shadow. “Time feels like it stands still here—maybe you haven’t felt that yet. It took a few weeks before I truly felt like I was stuck. Cursed to repeat virtually the same day over and over. This…” He waves a hand. “It’s not for me.

  “I began to feel like I was mired in time, unable to take a step forward. No future ahead. So, I began to look at my past. I considered how I’d spent my days. All my thousands upon thousands of days. I thought about every one of them. Earnestly. I considered my insatiable appetite for power. My service to Ra’om. My lack of regard for life or consequence, and … I was sickened by myself. This place held a mirror to me and I did not like what I saw.”

  “So you want to change the man in the mirror.”

  He smiles. “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “How?”

  “Yes. How are you going to change? If you leave here what are you going to do? What do you want from a fresh start?”

  “I … I think…” He looks lost. He looks like he’s genuinely never been asked that question in his entire immortal life. “You ask hard questions.”

  “You’re asking a lot of me.”

  “Yes. I am.” He draws a deep breath, looking up at the stars. “I think I’d seek what you have.” He looks at me. “I know I would.”

  “What do I have that you want?”

  “The thing that binds you to friends. The thing that calls you home to your family. That’s kept you here, strong, hopeful, and determined.”

  Easy answer. “You mean love.”

  “Not just love. Love that is greater.”

  “Greater than?”

  “All else.”

  CHAPTER 38

  GIDEON

  “Is it night yet?” I ask the man who brings me a bowl of watered-down broth. I’m starving. I’m not getting enough food that I can keep down. Rifters don’t understand celiac disease.

  “Soon,” he answers. “An hour or so.”

  Cotton is gone.

  Torin has taken his place.

  Torin is human, which should be an upgrade, but Cotton had tons more personality than this guy, who shuffles away without another word, disappearing around a corner.

  The past few nights have been brutal. No visits from Samrael. No idea how Daryn is doing.

  “At least I’ve got you,” I say, meeting Riot’s amber eyes.

  Always, Gideon. But I’m ready to get out of here. I’m angry that you’re here.

  He’s showing it, too. His new thing as of a few hours ago has been striking his big hooves against the bars. He sends up sparks when he does it, and the clanging sound is so loud, it’s almost blinding.

  I rub the raw skin under the manacle on my right hand, pick up the bowl, and drink my dinner.

  I’ve just finished the soup when Samrael comes around the corner.

  He stands before my cell, slips his hands into his pockets, and regards me with his emotionless eyes. Behind him, Riot snorts and swipes a hoof, smacking it against the bars.

  Samrael cuts a dark look his way.

  “I trust you’re healing? Feeling better?” he asks.

  My leg is better. I can stand now, like Riot, but not for long. And it’s still painful. I’ve got another day to go at least before I’m back in fighting shape.

  “You look like you could use more food,” Samrael says after a pause, carrying the conversation without me. “I’ll talk to Torin about it.”

  More silence that I don’t fill. I’m not happy with the meal plan here. But I’m not thanking him for looking into it.

  Something is different about him, but I can’t pinpoint what it is.

  “Well. Daryn and I have been spending some time together. Searching for you, mostly, but also going on walks and sharing meals. I’m rarely not in her company lately. I think it’s safe to say we’re becoming close. Relax, Gideon. Not that kind of close. So possessive. But I understand. She is special.

  “The knowledge I took from you last time I came to see you? Her abandonment fears, and her fears for her mother’s well-being—would you believe I didn’t use any of it? We seem to have no trouble relating to one another. Our talks are meaningful. I find myself going on and on when I’m with her. Telling her what I’ve seen. Where I’ve been. The truth of what I’ve done, and … she just listens.” He drops his gaze to the stone floor like he’s debating his next words. “She … she wants to give me forgiveness. I know for a fact that she does.” He looks up, his expression faraway like he’s remembering. “She almost makes me believe that my redemption is possible. Truly possible.”

  “It’s not.”

  He smiles. “I’ve always appreciated your honesty. Come. It’s time for a walk.” He lifts the key from the hook and unlocks the door. “And before you plot escape or revenge, let me remind you that I have Daryn and Riot both in my care. Now, up. Let’s see if that leg has healed.”

  I push myself to standing and leave my cell for the first time in days.

  Revenge is on my mind, front and center, but my hands are bound and my leg is still weak. And I have a useless prosthetic. Now isn’t the time. Even when I was completely healthy, I was never able to bring him down.

  Samrael makes me walk ahead of him, telling me where to go. As we leave the cluster of cells behind and head into the maze of corridors, I hear Riot smashing his hooves against the bars, making a racket that echoes through the stone tunnels.

  After a while, I feel the stress on the bones knitting together in my leg and start to limp. The sound of my uneven stride is too loud, and too telling. Step—step. Step—step. I fight it, trying to stay even.

  “No shame in it,” Samrael says. “I’d offer you my hand if I thought you’d—”

  “Shut up.”

  “You know, I regret cutting it off.”

  “I don’t think you do yet, but you will.”

  He laughs. “Never the quitter. Admirable.”

  Despite the pain in my leg, it’s a relief to be out of the cell, moving. I try to think ahead—where’s he taking me? If he wanted me dead, he could’ve done it in the cell.

  By the time we come thr
ough a door set into a hillside, my leg is a blaring center of pain and I’m sweating.

  Oh, yes. Awesome. We’re back in the woods. I was really missing this.

  “I think all of the confiding I’ve been doing has affected me,” Samrael says. He gazes at the trees like they mean something to him. “It feels good to finally share the secrets I’ve been keeping. I feel so understood.” He looks at me. “What would you like to see, Gideon? Daryn, probably. I don’t even need to get into that dense skull of yours to know that, do I? Daryn it is.”

  My heart jolts. I look for her, but there’s nothing but forest around us. We’re the only ones here.

  Movement draws my eye to a cluster of rocks. They’re rumbling on the ground, bouncing like the earth is shaking. Then they roll and glom together. Mass into a shape that’s vaguely human. Then exactly human.

  Daryn’s hair spills out in a flash of gold. Her shoulders form. Her neck and arms. All of her, solidifying. Everything is exact. Her clothing. The way she moves. Even the way she smiles at me.

  It’s Daryn. It’s her.

  “We’ve been wondering why the hauntings happen, Gideon,” she says. She glances at Samrael. “It’s him. He’s been searching into your minds. He’s found your fears and made them manifest. It’s been Samrael all this time. He’s been trying to scare you into leaving. He didn’t want you here. He only needs me to let him out. And I will. I’m going to release him from this prison. I’m going to go with him. And I’m going to leave you here.”

  With no warning, she fractures into rocks again. Instantaneously, they tumble to the ground. I stare at them long after they’ve gone still, rage burning inside me.

  Samrael. He was the one who put us through hell. He tried to turn Daryn against me. He tried to mess with Marcus … Riot …

  “Shocked?” he says. “You shouldn’t be. You know what I can do when I’m in your mind. My power only transmuted into something greater here—greater, and worse.”

  The headaches we’ve had make sense now. It was him, searching through our minds for our weaknesses so he could conjure them into existence.