“Thanks, Tilly,” Ryn says. His arm slides away from me. “It’s very kind of you to offer.”
She beams as us. “Well, I’d better go find my mom. I disappeared before breakfast this morning, and she’s probably launched a search party by now. And you guys need to have a shower or something because—” she lowers her voice to a mock whisper “—you stink. Bathing room’s through there.” She gestures over her shoulder with her thumb. “Oh, and your bags are here. I stole them from the bounty hunters’ house the day they took you. Nice sword, by the way.” She lifts the sword off the top of Ryn’s bag and slides it partway out of its sheath. “I love how it glows. Anyway, see you later.” She skips away.
I grab the sword off the top of Ryn’s bag and yank it out from its sheath, but the glow has already faded. I look at Ryn, who’s staring at the sword in open-mouthed shock. “It glows?” I say. “Has it done that before?”
He shakes his head.
“Do you think she’s the one?” I whisper. “The girl we’ve been looking for?”
“I don’t know. I certainly wasn’t picturing someone like . . . her.”
“Yeah, me neither.” I turn the sword over in my hands. “Maybe . . . she touched a button or something that we didn’t know about. Something that makes the sword glow.”
Ryn takes the sword from me and sits on the edge of one of the beds. He begins examining it, pressing here and there with his fingers. Arthur jumps from his shoulder, curls up on the pillow, and promptly goes to sleep.
“Tilly?” A woman’s voice rings out. “Tilly!” The frustrated call is followed by stomping footsteps. “Estelle Marie Blakethorn, where have you been?”
Ryn straightens. “Did someone just call her Estelle?”
“Yeah.”
“You know what that means, don’t you?”
I have to think for several seconds before I remember the meaning of the word. “Star,” I whisper. “Her name means star.”
“And this floating island is obviously the high land. She’s the ‘star of the high land.’”
I slowly lower myself onto the other bed. “We found her.” Or, more accurately, she found us. I know I should be happier, but Tilly isn’t at all what I was expecting. It doesn’t seem right that a girl so young should have to be the one to destroy Draven and his power.
Skipping footsteps sound in the passage, and Tilly appears in our doorway. “So, um, my mom said it’s cool if you stay here a while. I told her I found you just outside the shimmer and that you’re on the run from Draven’s dudes. Which . . . is . . . sort of true. She had to dash out for a meeting, so she’ll say hi later.”
“Great, thank you, Tilly.” Ryn stands. “Do you have a secure amber I can use? Amber with anti-tracking spells on it?”
She tilts her head to the side. “I don’t know. But amber messages don’t go through the shimmer. No communication does. It’s something to do with the time differences.”
“Time differences?” Ryn says.
“Yeah, remember I said we have our own time here?”
I remember her saying that, but that was back when I thought she might be a little bit crazy.
“Time inside the shimmer doesn’t match time outside the shimmer,” she explains. “Sometimes a day in here is week out there; sometimes a day in here is only an hour out there. I once went out and arrived at exactly the same moment I’d left almost a month before. You know how I know? Because the same mermaids were sitting on the same rocks by the shore arguing about the same guy they’d both just found out they were dating.” She bounces on her feet. “Aw-kward, right? I mean, the dating thing. Not the time thing. Although that is pretty weird too.”
I thought Natesa chatted a lot, but she’s got nothing on this girl. She’s so carefree and enthusiastic and . . . young. And we’re about to lay the fate of our world on her shoulders.
While Ryn rubs his temples and stares at the floor, probably worrying about the time thing, I ask, “Uh, how old are you, Tilly?”
“Fifteen. Why?”
“Just . . . curious.”
“Okay, well, you guys should really visit the bathing room. Check ya later.” She bounces away, leaving us in silence.
Ryn paces for a while, then sits on the edge of his bed again. “She’s so young,” he says. “How can we do this to her?”
“She’s only three years younger than us,” I point out.
“But she doesn’t have the experience we do. She hasn’t survived the things we’ve survived. She’s lived a sheltered, carefree life. How can we tell her she’s the only one who can put an end to Tharros’ power for good?”
I swallow and force the words out. “We have to.”
“That part at the end of the prophecy. ‘By the strike of the sword, and the death of innocence.’ I’ve been trying to figure out what the ‘innocence’ refers to.” He gestures to the doorway. “What if it’s her? What if we’re leading her to her death?”
Would the prophecy really be that cruel? In order for our world to be normal again, this sweet, innocent girl has to die? I grasp for some other meaning. “What if it’s . . . something else, something bigger—”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know! Like . . . like all our innocence. Like the fact that we’ll never be the same after this.”
Ryn flops back on his bed, flinching when Arthur’s snores burn his ear. “Life is never fair, is it?”
“No,” I murmur.
*
I lie on the bed, staring into the darkness and listening to the gentle stirring of leaves outside. The floorboards creak occasionally as the giant branches holding the house sway. I breathe in deeply, enjoying the sweet, fresh scent drifting from the purple and white blossoms growing on bushes at the base of the tree. The eerie melody that woke me still plays at the back of my mind.
After getting ourselves cleaned up, we decided to wait until tomorrow to tell Tilly about the prophecy and the sword and her role in the coming fight against Draven. I think we both wanted to give her one more day of ignorant bliss.
We had dinner with her family, and Tilly spent the rest of the evening playing with mini-Arthur. It’s strange to be in a place that seems so untouched by Draven. There’s no fear here. No loss. People mention The Destruction every now and then, but only as some distant tragedy that has no direct effect on them.
I can’t help wondering how long this haven will last, though. Draven will find out about this place eventually, if he hasn’t already, and he’ll come after the fae living here. He won’t stop until he has the entire world under his control—or until we kill him.
I hear Ryn roll over and breathe out a frustrated sigh. “What’s wrong?” I ask quietly. “Can’t sleep without a wall between us?”
“Yeah, I’m really missing that wall. I now get the loud version of your snoring instead of the muffled version.”
“Hey, I do not snore.”
“Okay, not real snoring. It’s more like these cute little half-snores that sound like—”
“I. Do not. Snore.”
He sighs. “Okay, if you want the real story, here it is: There’s this weird, creepy song playing over and over in my head, and it won’t let me sleep.”
I turn onto my side so I’m facing him and say, “It’s from the Unseelie Court. My brain won’t let go of it either. It woke me up, actually. Well, that and my leg.”
“Your leg? The cut from the throwing star?”
“Yeah. I’m a little worried. It should’ve healed hours ago.”
I hear shuffling and the quiet snap of Ryn’s fingers. A flame blazes to life over his hand, and he moves it to the candle beside his bed. He gets up and comes toward me. “Let me see.”
I push my blanket back and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. I’m wearing a pair of Tilly’s sleeping shorts, so the bandage wrapped around my leg just above my knee is easily visible. I unwind the layers and show Ryn the seeping cut and the angry red skin around it.
He touches m
y leg and looks closer. His hand is cool against my hot skin. “I had a wound like that,” he says. “An Unseelie faerie gave it to me with a black-bladed knife.”
I think back to the throwing star and remember the sharp, black edges. “I think it’s the same thing. How did you heal it?”
“I didn’t. I had to wait till I got to the base. Uri gave me some kind of enchanted salve to put on it. He said the blade leaves magic in the wound that counters the body’s healing magic. So your body keeps trying to heal the wound, but the wound keeps fighting back.”
“Well, that sucks. I’m guessing you don’t have any of that salve with you?”
“No, sorry.” His hand slides away from my leg, and I have this insane urge to tell him to put it back. Only because his hand is cool, of course, and my skin is so hot and uncomfortable. No other reason. No reason for my heart to start pumping extra fast. Ugh, I think this wound might be making me delirious.
“So . . .” he says without getting up, “that was quite a way to be woken up back there at the Unseelie Court.”
For a moment I don’t know what he’s talking about. Then I remember the kiss. “Oh. That. I was just trying to shock the stunner magic out of your system.”
“It certainly worked.”
“I know. Thank goodness.”
He shifts a little, and I feel his shoulder brush mine. I’m suddenly very aware of his hand right there and his arm right there and his leg right there. Does he have to sit so close? Seriously. He obviously has no idea about personal space, because he is definitely invading mine. And I am not cool with it. At all. Which is why I should slide myself away from him. Now. Right now. I’m going to do it—
“Okay, so, we’re going to tell Tilly everything tomorrow,” he says.
“Yeah.”
“I should probably get back to bed.”
“Yeah.”
“So, I guess, good night?”
“Uh huh.”
He chuckles and gives me a knowing smile, although I have no idea what he thinks he knows. I wrap the bandage hastily around my leg before lying down. I pull the blanket over me, turn to face the wall, and pretend nothing weird just happened.
The light goes out.
*
After breakfast the next morning, Tilly offers to give us a tour of her floating island. Ryn exchanges a look with me, then says, “Actually, we need to talk to you about something. Something really important and . . . life-changing.”
“Oh, okay. Sure.” She looks between the two of us, as if trying to figure out what’s going on, then says, “Let’s go sit on the deck.” She leads us out the back of her house and onto a wooden platform with no railing. We sit down and hang our legs over the edge. It’s so peaceful here in the shade with birds twittering nearby and sprites with umbrella-shaped wings floating around. I hate to have to ruin it with what we’re about to tell her. “So?” She swings her legs back and forth. “What’s this big deal stuff you want to tell me about?”
Ryn sighs and launches into his story. He gives her the history first, about Tharros and the fact that even though he was killed, his power was never destroyed. Then he tells her about Zell, the Unseelie Prince who hunted down the chest of power, and Draven, the guy who eventually killed Zell and took the power for himself. Lastly, he tells her about the prophecy, the sword, and the Order of the Guard—and how our journey to find the Star led us to her.
When Ryn finishes, Tilly’s legs are no longer swinging back and forth. “Okay,” she says, staring at nothing. “Mind. Officially. Blown.”
My eyes meet Ryn’s over Tilly’s head. He gives me a helpless look that says, now what? I touch Tilly’s shoulder and say, “What do you think about all that?”
“I think . . . I mean . . .” She takes a deep breath. “Are you sure it’s me? It just seems really unlikely that a fifteen-year-old girl who’s never fought anyone before is supposed to save the whole world from the powerful, evil guy who’s bent on controlling everything.”
I don’t tell her that that’s exactly what we were thinking.
“Your name means ‘star,’ doesn’t it?” Ryn asks. “And you live on the ‘high ground.’ The sword glows when you touch it. It’s never done that before. And when Vi searched for you, we landed up across the world so close to you that you watched us being captured by the bounty hunters. I don’t think it can be anyone else but you, Tilly.”
She nods slowly, biting her lip and staring through the branches. “Just, uh, give me a minute.” She stands, pulls herself up onto a branch leaning over the deck, and climbs onto the roof of her house. She disappears out of view.
I turn back to Ryn. “I’m guessing she’s going to need more than a minute.”
He pulls his knees up and rests his folded arms atop them. “I don’t want to have to force her to do this.”
I twirl a piece of hair around my finger and watch umbrella sprites jumping from the tree top. They spin in slow circles as they float to the ground. “I don’t think it’ll come to that. It’s a lot for her to take in, but I don’t think she’s going to refuse.”
We sit quietly, watching the world tick slowly by. I try not to think of how time might be speeding along outside this place.
“Vi? Ryn?” I look up at the sound of Tilly’s voice. She hops down from her roof and stands behind us. “We’re not safe here, are we? I mean, everyone thinks we are. They think we’re hidden from Draven. But he’s going to find us eventually, isn’t he?”
I nod as I stand. “Draven will find everyone eventually.”
She looks at her shoes. “I thought so. It isn’t just the world out there I’d be saving. It’s the world in here too.”
“So, you’ll do it?” Ryn stands up beside me.
“Well, duh. I mean, it’s to save the whole world, right? I can’t say no to that. I didn’t even think I had a choice.”
“There’s always a choice,” I say quietly.
She frowns. “You do want me to do this, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course,” I say. “We just . . . want to make sure you understand what you’re getting into. Understand that you might . . .”
“Die?” She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I figured that one out. But everyone has to die at some point, right? I may as well do it while saving the world. I mean, not that I want to die, but if it has to happen now, then at least it’ll be while I’m doing something worthwhile.” She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes this time. I hate that we’ve done that to her. That we’ve dimmed the light that seemed to shine perpetually in her eyes.
“We’re not going to let you die, Tilly,” Ryn says.
Her smiles stretches a little wider, and a hint of the light returns to her eyes. “As comforting as that sounds to me, I doubt it’ll make my parents feel any better when I tell them where I’m going. I’m pretty sure they’re going to freak out.”
Her parents. Right. They’ll almost certainly tell her she can’t do this.
“When do you want to talk to them?” Ryn asks.
“Now.” She swivels around and faces the door. “I’m going to talk to them right now. I mean, this is urgent. It can’t wait till later. We have no idea what time is doing out there. And if we wait too long, I might get scared and change my mind.” She takes a deep breath, then hurries into the house.
I take slow steps toward the doorway. I lean against the frame and listen to the muffled voices behind the closed door of Tilly’s parents’ bedroom. After several minutes, the voices become raised. Ryn joins me in the doorway.
“Doesn’t sound good,” he says.
The bedroom door flies open, and Tilly’s father storms out. “Where are they? They’d better—ah, there they are.” He spins around and heads toward us. “You two need to take your things and leave right now. How dare you come into our home and fill Tilly’s head with these ridiculous stories?”
Ryn holds his hands up. “Please, just let me show you the—”
“No! Tilly will have no part in this. S
he’s just a child.”
“Dad, I’m—”
“Quiet, Estelle. These people will only get you killed. There is absolutely no way I’m letting you go with them.”
I bite my lip. His words could very well be true; we may indeed be leading her to her death.
“Well?” he says. “I asked you to leave!”
I hurry down the passage to the spare bedroom and lift my bag off the bed. Ryn slings the sword strap over his head and places Arthur on his shoulder. “Come on,” he mutters. “We’re not helping by being here.”
We head back to the lake where Arthur first landed. As soon as we reach the overhanging trees and gently lapping water, Arthur leaps off Ryn’s shoulder and starts expanding. He flies out over the lake as he grows, and by the time he lands in the middle with a loud splash, he’s reached his full size.
“Now what?” I dump my bag on the ground. “We can’t leave without her.”
Ryn shakes his head. “We have to figure something out. If we go back to the base without her, they’ll send a team here to take her by force.”
“You think Oliver would do that?”
“He wouldn’t want to, but, in the end, I think he would. This is the fate of the whole world we’re talking about, V. We can’t end Draven’s rule without her.”
I sit down on an oversized tree root and lean my head back against the trunk. “Okay, let’s wait a few hours and see if she manages to convince her parents.”
Ryn sits down and lies back on the grass. “I don’t see that happening.”
“Well, there isn’t much else we can do right now.”
We watch the cotton puffs of cloud through the branches as the sun moves across the sky. After a lot of pacing, sitting, lying down, and playing with Arthur, the sky begins to cycle through the colors of sunset. Night approaches. The stars pop out. After watching their slow trail across the heavens for several hours, I say, “I gather we’re spending the night out here?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Ryn adds a few more lines to the picture he’s drawing in the air with my stylus. “Could be worse, though. It could be Draven’s winter instead of a balmy spring on a floating island.”