Because I can barely feel my legs, I’m nowhere near as graceful as I’d been in my dream—was it a dream? I stumble over the rocks, then fall to my knees and feel a rock dig into my flesh. Now I feel my legs. The pain makes me see fireworks. Fireworks. The bright colors of my dreamworld are gone. The beauty of the way everything struck me as if I were seeing it for the first time. Now everything is dull again, heartbreakingly so. I try not to concentrate on it as I find my way up the embankment, and yet that’s all I can see.
That is, until Trey appears before me.
He’s a ghost, I know, and for the first time, he looks that way. He’s tinged with blue, faded, yet so perfect. His face may not be clean-shaven, but his wounds are gone. He smiles at me.
I hear his voice, clear inside my head. Everything is all right now. I’m moving on. Wanted to tell you something, though. I shouldn’t have denied it.
“Kiandra!” a voice calls. It’s one I haven’t heard in centuries. I whirl around. Justin. He’s standing at the top of the embankment, the hood of a rain slicker hiding his face. But even though I can’t see most of him, I can tell he’s stricken with relief and amazement. He starts to navigate his way down the rocky ledge, but by now I’m reaching for something that is just out of my grasp. Trey is walking away, in that same lazy, carefree way I’ve come to know.
“Trey!” I shout. “No! Just—”
Justin moves closer, ignoring my plea. “What?” he’s asking. He has his arms out, ready to envelop me, to pull me close to his big, strong body the way he has a thousand times.
“What’s wrong?”
Justin clutches me to him, and in the music of his heartbeat, I watch Trey walk to the river. I wish he’d just look back, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even falter. Everything is still, so still, except him. I need to run for him, to grab him, to tell him to come back. When I push myself away from Justin, there is no sound but the whistle of the wind, no movement but the dance of the leaves in the trees. Justin whispers, “You’re in shock. Let’s get you inside, okay?”
I push against his body with such violence that he steps back. “No!” I scream, but the second I do, Trey disappears, leaving nothing but an outline in my memory. I blink again and again, but he is gone. I turn to Justin. It’s him. He’s lured me back to reality, to his world, when I need to be in the other one. I need to be with the dead. But as I look around helplessly, I realize I have no idea how to get back. I clasp my hands over my mouth. “Oh my God. He’s gone.”
He moves closer, tentative, and scans through the pines. “Who is he?”
“Leave me,” I whisper into my hands. I don’t know how long I’ve been crying, but my palms are slick and salty with tears.
Suddenly a fireball bursts in the distance. I don’t even look at it, almost as if I expected it, and yet I don’t know where it came from. Justin steps back, his mouth forming an O. “What the—”
He starts to take a step toward it, but as I’m moaning “Please, can’t you leave me?” another fireball bursts behind us. It rocks Justin, and he steadies himself as I remain still. The rain begins to fall steadily now, and the fire melts to nothing, but Justin surveys the area, and I know that in all the years he’s been here, he’s never seen anything like it. But still he won’t leave.
“What the hell? We’ve got to get out of here, Ki. Now.”
“Leave me,” I beg, knowing there will be another eruption, possibly closer, if he stays. I don’t know how I know, but I know.
But I can’t expect him to leave. He’s just found me. Instead of obeying, he narrows his eyes. “Wait. You’ve been missing for nearly twenty-four hours and now you’re telling me you don’t want to be found? Jesus, Ki, did you do this on purpose? Because of me?”
I simply stare at the spot where Trey once stood. I can’t comprehend what Justin is saying. Because of him? Why because of him? Everything from this world is strange, like walking into a foreign country. I turn to him as he tries to put his arm around me. Even he looks different. His arm around me feels different, heavier. Wrong.
“No, I didn’t do this on purpose,” I whisper, because I know that if I admit I did, I’d have to acknowledge that everything that happened to Trey is my fault.
And it is.
Why can’t I see him? Is he gone? Off to the next place? Away to where I will never see him again?
Tears flood my eyes again. I start to speak, to explain, but I don’t know how to explain this. Justin puts a warm hand over mine, and it’s only when my hand starts to sting in his that I realize my limbs are frozen. He says, “You’re like ice. You can explain later. Let’s go back. Your dad is waiting for you.”
My dad. It’s those words that lift me. Justin helps me to my feet, and they feel like they’re tethered to the ground with elastic bands as I walk unsteadily toward the path that will lead us to the rest of civilization. To my old life. How can it be that it’s only been a day since I’ve been part of it? I slump against Justin, and the one thing that feels familiar is how effortlessly he piles me into his arms. In the rhythm of his footfalls, I’m lulled to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Six
When I wake, I’m in the middle of a big, fluffy bed piled high with white comforters and pillows. It’s Angela’s cabin, bright lacquered log walls covered in rustic frames holding wilderness scenes, windows open to the green pine boughs outside. I prop myself up on my elbows and inspect my white nightgown, unable to recall where or when I got such a strange piece of clothing. As I’m contemplating the contents of the bag I dragged up here, there’s a creaking in the doorway, and Trey appears.
He’s perfect. His face may not be clean-shaven, but his wounds are gone. He smiles at me.
This isn’t real, is it? I don’t say it. I don’t need to say it. He understands every word. He nods and slips a hand behind my neck, pulling me up to him in the most real kiss I’ve ever felt in my life. His lips burn mine, etching a permanent impression there. When he pulls away, I reach for him, wanting more, and when my hands graze his skin, I hear his voice, clear inside my head.
I’m moving on. Wanted to tell you something, though. I shouldn’t have denied it.
No, I say. Don’t. Say it to me when you’re holding me for real. Because you’re not moving on. I won’t let you.
You’re not moving on. My eyes flicker open. Unlike in my dream, this time the room is bathed in darkness. There is no strip of light under the door; the only brightness comes from the moon peeking through the pines. It’s late. My skin feels clammy, all except for my lips, which still burn from the kiss.
I won’t let you.
I stare at my hands, wondering what I could have meant. And all at once I remember the fireballs in the forest. The bright explosions that bewildered me and Justin.
They were mine. I created them myself. With my powers.
I pull off the covers and I’m wearing only a long thermal T-shirt, but I don’t think about the cold. I run barefoot down the stairs and out into the night as a chorus of owls hoots a welcome. I rush to the darkness, letting it envelop me, no longer afraid of what it might bring. I do not fear what is out here. Somehow, even in the darkness, I can find the place I’d last seen him. Take me there, please. Take me to him.
“Trey,” I whisper.
And suddenly he is lying before me, in the clearing, the moonlight making the sweat glisten on his forehead and bare chest. It’s the only thing that glows, because there is no shine left in him. His eyes are closed, but they flicker a bit when I approach him.