“Of course we’re real.” He pauses, clearly musing on how to explain. “We existed in this world; we’ll exist in the next. But if we die…if we’re brought back to life…Where does that soul come from? Where does its casing? Is the soul the same as it would’ve been?Or is it merely the idea of what the soul might have been—should have been—in the eye of the wisher? Are its memories true? Would ours be?”
“Does it matter?” I close the gap between us and take his hand. Kaelis continues to stare at the portrait with longing. “If you could have her, could hold her again, does it matter?”
“To me, it would.” He nods. “I never knew her, but I’d like to think she was a woman who would want to see this world keep its forward momentum. That she would not want to be some manifestation of magic, but would want to bereal.”
“What are any of us if not manifestations of magic? What else is life?”
Even his amusement looks somewhat sad right now. “How philosophical of you.”
“How does the World’s wish work?” I ask pointedly, not wanting to get my hopes up for anything else I plan to do with it until I am sure I understand it.
“When the twenty golden Majors are assembled at the font of the World and the vessel is presented, the World imbues the vessel with its power—it takes residence within it, if you will. Then, like any card, it can be cast,” he explains. I appreciate him not deflecting, though I already know all this. “Once it’s cast, the caster gets a single wish, and it can be anything. The world will interpret the wish and bend its shape to the new design.”
“How did your father build all this?” I gesture around us and then to the portrait. “Seems like a lot of changes for one wish.”
“Some claim it is the intention—the vision of the caster, combining with fate’s interpretation of that vision.”
“The World is sentient?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps it’s a force we cannot understand—not quite conscious, but not in the realm of our perception,” he muses. “That may be a question better posed to your friends in the Worldkeepers. They’re supposed to hold such knowledge.”
His eyes drift back to the portrait.
“If your father killed her before he cast the World so she wouldn’t be here, why does her memory still exist in this world?” I whisper, as if saying it softly could make the question easier.
“Who knows. Perhaps my father wanted reminders of his triumph. Or perhaps it was merely how the World decided to manifest his wish.” A pause for a heartbeat. “Whatever the reason, I’m glad for the remnants of that time. Glad I still have pieces of her in this world. It’s all I will ever have of the woman I should’ve known before he took her from me.”
I’m standing at the edge of an emotional chasm. A gap between where my pain ends and his begins. Where he stands is so similar to me, and yet it might as well be a world away. My mother was also ripped from me. But I knew her smiles, her scent; I can still force myself to recall the sound of her voice. Kaelis, however? He never knew his mother. Yet, he wouldn’t try to bring her back. He would endure this over finding comfort in a phantom.
He means it, then. Everything he’s ever said. About the World, his vision, what he wants to use it for…
Every doubt I’ve had about him is at last, fully, completely abandoned. He has been sincere—honest with me the whole time. And what have I given him in return? Deception. Lies. I swallow hard as if I can better stomach my guilt that way.
Let people in, Clara. All of this hurt and struggle is only worth something if you’re fighting for someone at the end of it.
Wordlessly, I reach up, and my hand glides along the edge of his cheek and the sharp line of his jaw. I slowly pull his face toward mine. Kaelis doesn’t resist.
Our lips meet. Gently. Sweetly, even. His hands glide around my waist and pull me closer.
“Stay with me tonight,” he rasps over my mouth.
Without a thought, I reply, “Yes.”
Chapter 41
He pulls me closer, kisses soft and slow. Every movement unhurried and savored. It’s so different from the classroom, where he seemed ready to devour me. This is gentle yet still tastes of desperation.
I wrap my arms around his neck and lose my fingers in the silken strands of his hair.Take me,I could beg.Make me forget all of it—my fear, my doubt, the endless decisions and second-guessing of my every movement. Make me forget every fracture and scar that all the magic in the world couldn’t mend.
As if he can hear my thoughts, Kaelis pulls back slightly, eyes ablaze even as his movements remain soft and gentle. Never has his desire been more apparent than now. Never has our restraint left us at the point of gasping. Questions and fears war in both our eyes. Never have I ached so deeply for him that I can’t stop myself from pulling him back and kissing him. Just…kissing him. Savoring the taste of his tongue. The way his lips, wet and hot, glide against mine.
“Clara,” he rasps against my lips. My name sounds different. It’s reverent, yet hungry.
I don’t have a chance to respond before he moves, leading me into the hall, our fingers laced. Just touching that little bit of skin has a flush rushing through me. My heart is beating so hard I wonder if he can feel it in my fingertips.
Does he notice how different my hands are now? How our proportions have shifted ever so slightly, since my transformation? It’s all these little things I’ve barely discovered that suddenly seem placed beneath a magnifying glass. I’ve never been so aware of my own skin. Of every errant thought, suddenly so loud. My heart beats harder to try to drown them out.
In an instant, I’m weightless. Kaelis lifts me into his arms, carrying me through his apartments and to his bed. I cling to him, pressing my face into the curve of his neck, my lips against his hot skin. I breathe him in like the world is poison and he’s the antidote.
