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"We've barely stopped working since we got here," I said. "Maybe I just need a break, that's all. I'll do some window shopping and head home in a few hours. I'll be back in time for dinner. I promise."
His brow was still furrowed, and after a moment's hesitation I reached up, smoothing away the crease with a press of my finger. "What is it? What are you so worried about?"
He huffed out a breath. “I’m…worried that you're not worried enough."
"What do you mean?"
He shot me an exasperated glance. "I mean…you've been sleepwalking. You woke up in a field with blood on your hands. Your eyes are red, River. I can't understand why you're not freaking out as much as I am. You're not acting like yourself."
“I…” I trailed off, suddenly unsure. Theo knew me better than anyone in the world. If he thought I was acting strange, maybe he was right. Maybe I wasn't reacting enough.
But the second the thought crossed my mind, I dismissed it. I was scared, of course I was. But at the same time, I'd been to an eye doctor. Luca and Theo had both promised to help me get to the bottom of this. What else was I supposed to do?
Just as I opened my mouth to respond, Theo's phone buzzed again. He read the message and gave a frustrated groan.
"I need to get back." He typed out a quick message and tucked his phone away, then leaned in to search my eyes. "Are you sure you're okay here?"
"I promise." On impulse, I rose up on my toes and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. He blinked in surprise before a wide smile spread across his face. He bent down, his lips meeting mine for a much more lingering kiss.
"Is this a thing I can do now?" he murmured against my lips before withdrawing.
I didn't bother to answer, just took his shoulders and turned him to face away from me, giving him a push to start him off down the street. "Get out of here before Neath sends out a search party."
The ophthalmologist's office wasn't far from the wharf, and my feet were carrying me downhill toward the water before I realized where I was going. It was a beautiful day, warm and sunny, and the tourists were out in droves: clustered in the tiny cafe courtyards, meandering down the tree-lined streets, wandering in and out of shops. With a pair of sunglasses to shield my new potentially-alarming red gaze, I blended in effortlessly, letting the tide of the crowd pull me aimlessly through the streets. I tried hard to enjoy the pleasure of a day off with nothing to do, but try as I might, I couldn't seem to stop Theo's words from echoing through my head.
You're not acting like yourself.
He was wrong. Wasn't he? I mean, I felt like myself. And yet, on two separate occasions a strange, violent image had popped unbidden into my mind. Once in the morning with Luca, and then again at dinner. Was I going crazy?
I shook my head, clearing the thoughts away. It was a beautiful day and I had nowhere to be. I was determined to enjoy it.
I turned on a whim, following a group of tourists down a side street and into a small bakery. I bought a bag of riekstini, little caramel-filled cookies shaped like walnuts, and ate them slowly as I wandered down the street. I window-shopped as I strolled, admiring a stack of colorful scarves here, an array of pottery there. The next store was an antique shop, and a display of old, leather-bound books in the window caught my eye. They reminded me rather uncomfortably of the way the book at the dig site had looked the morning after I'd found it—worn leather cracking around the edges, gilt decorations patchy and faded. With a quick glance at the sign over the window, I realized this must be the store Vanessa had visited earlier in the week.
The bell over the door chimed as I pushed through. It was dim inside the shop, light from a handful of antique lamps illuminating nooks and crannies filled with all manner of oddities. Perhaps I should bring something home for my dad. He was nearly impossible to buy things for, but surely I could find something here. Maybe some traditional Velartan pottery or a wood carving.
I was trailing my hand over the ornate frame of an antique mirror when a voice sounded from behind me.
"Well, well. I wondered if I would see you again."
17
I spun around, my gaze landing on a familiar tall woman with snow-white hair and a brightly-painted smile.
"Ona!"
"Ah, you do remember me," the woman said.
As if I could possibly forget our bizarre encounter on the plane. Come to think of it, speaking with Ona had marked the beginning of what had so far been a very bizarre trip.
Rather than voice my thoughts aloud, I mustered what I hoped was a warm smile. "Of course I do."
"And how has your stay in our lovely country been so far?" she asked. "Have you—"
She broke off with a gasp and I immediately realized my mistake. I'd removed my sunglasses when I'd entered the dim interior of the store, and sure enough, her gaze was fixed on my eyes as an expression of horror twisted her face.
"I know, I'm sorry. Here, I'll just—" I lifted my hand to slide my sunglasses back on, but her fingers locked around my wrist before I could.
"How long have they been like that?" she demanded.
