Page 119 of The Amber Sunburst

Despite the fresh air, he can’t breathe. It shouldn’t be a new feeling—but what if this time is the heart attack or the stroke or the final death blow from the Forms?

He rips off his high-tops, but feeling the ground under his feet, ironically, does nothing to ground him like he thought it would. He just wants something to save him. Anything.

The ocean waves crash loudly and something in his subconscious says that if the sand won’t ground him, perhaps the waves will. So he takes off again, closing the short distance between himself and the water. He runs recklessly, stumbling against the tide.

The waves are small, but eventually he’s far enough into the sea that his feet don’t touch the bottom. Then he swims and swims until the water consumes him. He doesn’t even try to paddle, just lets himself sink. The ocean is salty and it stings his wide-open eyes, but that’s not enough to make him swim up.

Drowning would be better than the panic. Anything would be better than the panic.

If only there was something that could make him invincible, or give him the powers to fight all of this off and get ahead and not disappoint everyone.

His eyes hurt almost as much as his lungs, but what surrounds him is beautiful. Even submerged deep in the ocean, the moon’s silver rays shimmer around him, turning the water to a grey-blue. It would be nice to stay here forever where it’s quiet.

They’re after you too.

But right now no one is after him except for the sea. And he doesn’t mind losing to a formidable opponent.

If only he was strong enough to concede defeat.

But he’s the same coward he’s always been.

Just before his body gives out, he pushes off from the ocean floor into the waves.

Somehow, between coughs and gasps and sobs, he makes it back to shore and collapses onto the sand. He’s crying so hard that it hurts and he’s shivering because it’s just so cold and what did he just do? Did he really just walk into the ocean and… and…

He lies on his back.

And, oh.

He didn’t notice before, but the moon is full and almost blue in its brightness.

The ocean is her domain, the moon. He wonders why she didn’t just let him drown.

32

ALEXANDER

Alexander and Zeno aren’t able to meet with Bios until a week after they took on the task.

Alexander was ready to storm over right when they left the Library, but Zeno stopped him.

“I need to message him first,” he said, and Alexander scoffed.

“Ask for forgiveness, not permission, Zee.”

Zeno was not swayed. Which means they waited. And seven days, Alexander learned this week, is a boringly large amount of time.

He spent most of that time with Zeno, in the Library, or in Kallias’ room. He finds himself in Kallias’ room a lot these days. Kallias doesn’t seem to mind.

Well, actually, he seems to mind very much, but Alexander knows if Kallias didn’t want him there, he wouldn’t be there. It’s refreshing.

Alexander is so used to overthinking with people—tailoring himself to whatever his company would appreciate the most. He’s not even sure that he knows who he is anymore. Just a mishmash of everyone he’s trying to please because if they like him them maybe they won’t turn around and… well, you know.

But with Kallias he just sort of exists. There’s no room for analysis or second-guessing. It’s something he hasn’t experienced since his father died.

“And, plus,” Zeno goes on, continuing a rant that Alexander has heard a million times already, “we would be so good together. I’m so in love with her it’s pathetic and I have no idea what to do about it.”

When Alexander doesn’t say anything, Zeno pouts at him and asks, “Alex, are you even listening?”