Page 44 of The Light Between Worlds

“We’re never going back,” he says. “It’s not just me, it’s Philippa. It’s you. None of us are ever going back. You’ve got to stop waiting. You’ve got to start living in this world. We’re not Woodlanders—we never were. We’re just us, and we need to make the best of it.”

“Don’t you remember?” The words sound strange and far away, drifting out of me in little more than a whisper. They sound like waves, like rain. “A Woodlands heart always finds its way home. Shouldn’t that mean we’re going back?”

Jamie takes his gloves off and balls them up in one hand. “You know what Cervus said to us, that last day on the beach. But you need to say it, too, Ev. I’m sorry, but you’ve got to.”

I shake my head. “Jamie, don’t make me.”

He’s unbending. He always has been, when there’s no alternative. “Tell me what Cervus said to us on the beach, Evelyn.”

Grey sand, grey sea, grey sky. My words are faint as a last breath.

“He said he won’t call us again. That he can’t.”

“You can make a life here.” There’s fire in Jamie’s words. “Iknow you can. You’re strong enough for this.”

“How?” I ask, desperate for hope that eludes my grip.

“Things aren’t as straightforward here, I know,” Jamie admits. “I think we’re more like Tarsa than the Great Wood, most of the time. But you and I were born to this world, Ev, and we don’t have to hack at the edges of its darkness. We can change it from the inside out. Find some good to do, something to hang on to.”

But I don’t know how to live in this grey country—how to find the light and shadow when they all run together so.

“I’ll try,” I say, and I’ve never spoken a greater lie. I’m done trying. I’ve tried for six agonizing years, held to this world by my sister and brother and the force of their wills.

Ducking out of the car without giving Jamie a chance to answer, I wait in the dormitory’s entrance till he’s pulled away. Once he’s gone I run back out, free in the cold February air, sprinting across the gravel quad toward the back gate, past the cowshed and out into the lane, the woods, the open world that looks so achingly like home but never will be.

I sit on a hill and let the cold soak into me, because I’m cold on the inside so I may as well be cold outside. I stay until I’m shaking and can’t bear the way my teeth rattle, and then I turn back and climb across the treacherously icy roof to where Georgie has left the window unlatched. Climbing into bed in my sodden clothes, I curl up around a lukewarm hot water bottle.

I have no plans to leave my bed again. I’ve seen this world. There’s nothing in it I want anymore. Everything I’ve ever had, I left behind.

31

IT’S BEEN HALF A YEAR SINCE THE WOODLANDSwent to war. Philippa and Jamie and I are on the beach, stealing a few moments together in spite of a misting grey rain that falls from the grey sky. I know they’re a little at loose ends—Jamie struggling to find his place now the standing army’s been disbanded, Philippa busy in the infirmary and the castle with Alfreya, but not entirely sure how to live in a world where she’s been less than perfect.

But we grew into our roles here before, and my brother and sister can do so again. The coming harvest at Palace Beautiful will be a good one. New green trees flourish throughout the Wood. The war is truly over, and the Woodlands are at peace once more. I knew all would be well with us the day Hector hired onto a fishing boat, and at long last set his swords aside.

Grey waves sigh against the shore. I am glad, and entirely alive. I know my place, know who I am. This is where I belong, in this kingdom we’ve all fought for. I will live and die in the service of the Great Wood. I barely remember our other life, it seems so far away.

When I look up and Cervus is coming toward us on the beach,rust-red and resplendent, my heart leaps. Then I see that his head hangs low, and his cloven hooves move heavily over the sand.

I run to him and cup his velvet muzzle with both hands, lifting his head so he can’t help but look at me. “Cervus, what’s wrong? What’s happened?”

Jamie and Philippa come up beside me and the stag pulls away.

“Children,” he says in a low voice, though we’re hardly that anymore. “Your own world is waiting. I’m ready for the sending, as you asked. But be sure of your choice, for once you return, I cannot call you back.”

Dread lodges in the pit of my stomach. “I’d never ask to be sent away. This is my world. I belong here. We belong here. Jamie? Philippa?”

But when I turn to my brother and sister, there’s no fear in their eyes, only sorrow.

“Evie,” Jamie says with a kindness that cuts. “You were only a child when we came here. It’s time to go home. We never expected to stay for so long.”

Philippa’s arm goes around my waist, holding tight to me. “We’ll be with you. Whatever world we’re in, I promise. But the Great Wood is safe—you needn’t worry about it anymore. This isn’t where we’re meant to be, Ev.”

The discovery that Philippa had plotted with Tarsa was nothing compared to this—to knowing both my brother and sister have decided my fate without ever speaking a word of it to me.

“Don’t ask me to go,” I plead.

Jamie looks sick and Philippa’s eyes fill with tears.