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“It’s okay.” Brinna tried to comfort her. “We love you, and whatever it is–”
Scarlett looked back at them and shook her head. “You say that. But–” She stopped, pressing her lips together into a thin line. Shaking her head, she adjusted in her seat before taking another sip of her tea.
They all did, a chorus of sips, waiting.
Scarlett cleared her throat, rubbed her hands over her skirt, then stood, picking up the tea pot and walking around the table, refilling each of their cups. “I wasn’t born in Kaloma.”
“Wow?” Mattias looked around, eyes wide. “I didn’t know that.” He reached for a cut of crispy shortbread and took a bite, his obvious enjoyment convincing Brina to take some.
“Where were you born?” Jessamine asked.
“In a land very far from here.”
“How far?” Mattias looked up from his plate.
“A different home—not Sevens?” Tarley tilted her head, then looked around the table with a forced smile, as if she were trying to put Scarlett at ease. “Imagine that.” She adjusted her teacup, spinning it around in front of her. “We could have grown up somewhere else. I might not have met Lachlan.” She took a sip.
“That’s hard to imagine,” Auri said, then took another drink. “Not meeting Nixus.”
“Does it have a name?” Jessamine asked.
Scarlett hesitated and swallowed. “I can’t remember the name,” she said, dragging out the words as if searching for them. “It has been so long–”
Auri’s eyes narrowed. “Who doesn’t remember the place where they grew up? I will remember Sevens and these woods for the rest of my days.”
“It isn’t important to the overall story,” Scarlett said, her eyes jumping to Auri as Auri stifled a yawn behind the back of her hand.
Brinna yawned, as did everyone else around the table. “Yawns are contagious,” she said, hoping for the levity that usually graced their time together at this table. But no one joined her.
“Tell them what’s relevant,” Tomas said, then covered his mouth as he, too, yawned.
“There was a king there,” Scarlett said. “Where I grew up.”
“A king?” Brinna asked and stifled another yawn behind her palm. The stress of the last few days must have been catching up with her. A woozy weight moved through her body, weighing her limbs like she was being held down. Brinna lifted her hand, thinking to reach for her tea, and watching it as if it belonged to someone else.
“Yes.” Scarlett nodded. “And I remember it being beautiful,” she added.
“I feel weird,” Tarley said, and her voice drifted as if realizing something. “Wait. I’ve seen this…” Tarley stood abruptly, stumbled, and pressed her palms to the table, her accusing gaze on Scarlett. “Mother?”
“Like a dream–” Brinna said, yawning once more before turning toward Auri. She was moving so slowly—as if she were submerged in water. With a shake of her head, she looked across the table.
Jessamine’s eyes widened. She looked down at her cup before her dark eyes flashed to Scarlett’s. “Mother. You didn’t.” She shook her head as though trying to clear it.
“Mother,” Tarley said. “You did.” Then she slumped back into her seat and fell forward hitting the table with a crash, followed by Jessamine and Tomas.
Brinna turned to look at their mother, who sat watching. The only one of them not yawning. “Oh. Mother. No.” It was the last thing Brinna remembered before everything went black.
11
Luc welcomed the quiet at Sol after Nixus whisked away the Fareviews, at least that’s what Luc told himself. But after thirty minutes of telling himself it was what he wanted, it felt cloying and uncomfortable. He was listless and achy. Brinna had caught his eye just before she’d effervesced back to her circle, and Luc returned to it in his mind over and over.
At first, he’d decided her look had meant nothing. Then he’d decided, it was just her being friendly, athank youof sorts. Then a question. What did that look mean? Had Brinna meant something by it? Then later: what if it meant something? How would he ever know? Did he want to know?
With a frustrated groan, Luc slammed shut the book he’d been trying to read. He wandered Sol, making sure everything was in working order. He spent time in the atrium, pruning the plants. He even stopped at the doorway of the room where Brinna had slept, the bed—though made—not quite as perfect as it had been before she’d slept there. He’d checked the doors to Elsewhere, none of which he could cross into—he learned—without his power.
Eventually, he flopped on the couch in the living room and stared out at the sky beyond the windows, contemplating the purpose of his existence. His father was controlling the light for the time being. Luc watched the sun trek across the sky, wondering if there was anything different, wondering if he was truly necessary.
He doubted it.
