“Yes, but then you immediately moved on to kissing the tall one, and I was left sitting on a branch like a decorative afterthought. I have feelings, Elle. Complex, layered feelings.”
Kaelren hasn’t set me down yet. I’m still wrapped around him, and he doesn’t seem inclined to let go. Peeble is nestled against my collarbone, their shell warm. The three of us stand there in a sunlit grove in the middle of impossible nowhere, and for one perfect, suspended moment, everything is okay.
Then someone else clears their throat from the edge of the clearing.
Kaelren’s entire body changes in a heartbeat.
He sets me down fast. Not roughly, but with the quick precision of someone whose instincts have been on edge for months.
Then he turns, putting himself between me and whatever is behind us.
The air cools as his corruption rises. Shadows gather around his hands. The marks along his skin darken from their usual violet to nearly black.
His stance settles into something lethal. Weight forward. Shoulders squared. Ready.
I peer around his arm.
Two figures stand at the treeline.
The first is tall and willowy; their skin textured like bark. Their eyes glow a soft, steady amber. Robes made of living moss drape over their frame, shifting through shades of green with each breath.
Flowers bloom in the grass around their feet. Small white ones that open and close in a slow, steady rhythm.
The Sage.
I recognize them immediately. From Vyn Hollow. From the Thornwood. From the first time they examined my marks and informed me I was both a person and a specimen.
I startle when I notice the second figure.
Thalia.
She stands a little behind the Sage, arms crossed like she’s been watching the entire reunion unfold. Green eyes. Dark hair falling past her shoulders. Bare feet planted in the grass, like she’s spent most of her life walking without shoes.
Her clothes are simple. Linen, dark pants, a loose shirt that moves easily in the breeze.
She looks completely at home here.
Kaelren relaxes. Slightly.
The corruption around him fades but doesn’t disappear. Shadows still linger around his hands.
“Thalia,” he says.
There’s recognition in his voice. No surprise.
He knows her.
I look between them. “How do you know her?”
Kaelren scowls. His usual scowl. The one that means he has information he didn’t share and is irritated about being called out on it.
“She showed up in one of the iterations,” he says. “Guiding me toward you. Working with—”
He cuts his eyes toward the Sage.
“—them.”
“The Sage has been meddling,” he adds. The word sounds like it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. “From the beginning. Every breadcrumb. Every convenient crossing point. Every time Thalia appeared at exactly the right moment was clearly orchestrated.”
