Reflection Pond (28 page)

Though it was childish, Rowan worried how Callie would react to him when she woke. The effects of faerie wine were unpredictable, and if you drank enough of it, comparable to the lurching insanity of a bad acid trip. He hoped he wouldn’t morph into some giant, disfigured beast in her mind. The apt description had Rowan’s gaze sliding to her again. God, he was an idiot, telling her all that. What had he hoped to accomplish? Maybe he thought Callie would sympathize with him. Maybe he thought his scars wouldn’t frighten her, but draw her closer to him.

He was so stupid.

She’d never want to leave with him.
Especially not now, knowing that he carried markings from the City of War.

Rowan knew his path—his inevitable departure from
Eirensae,
but was more concerned with Callie. He didn’t think he’d sleep easy until she made her decision to stay or go, though after she made it, he might never sleep easy again.

When the first strains of daylight crept through his windows, the sound of nearly silent footsteps ghosted into the cottage.
Ash,
he thought, recognizing his best friend’s movement even before he knocked. Rowan slipped the wood plank out of the door and let Ash inside.

Ash looked terrible, tired, face pinched with worry, the angry bruise from Rowan’s fist darkening his jaw. Rowan imagined he didn’t look much better. Ash’s gaze went to the bed. Rowan told himself he didn’t resent the propriety he saw in the other boy’s face. He lifted a finger to his lips and gestured that they should go outside, leaving the door open a crack just in case she woke.

“I spoke with Hazel this morning,” Ash said, sitting on the grass, combing through the long strands with his fingers. He wore the same clothes from yesterday, the wind picked up the tattered fabric, which flapped like flag of surrender.

The sun was barely a burning slice over the horizon but the brightness hurt Rowan’s eyes. A headache throbbed in the center of his brain.
“And?”

Ash lifted a shoulder. “She’s only concerned with Callie. She doesn’t care that the city is falling apart. She ordered me to keep an eye on her.” Ash met Rowan’s gaze. “And you.”

“We can’t trust her,” Rowan muttered. He didn’t buy her lazy attitude or the way she regarded problems as non-issues. For the leader of a city, she was too passive, standing up only when someone questioned her status, content to remain hidden in
Eirensae
behind the wards that protected her. He’d never seen her step foot outside the city.

She had something to hide. Then again, who didn’t? Rowan wasn’t exactly forthright with everything he knew, either.

“She’s our leader, Row. If we can’t trust her, then who?”

“Sapphire,” he said, glancing around to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard. “She knows more than she’s saying, and I suspect she hasn’t told Hazel.”

Ash went still.

Rowan stopped him before he could say anything. “All I know is that Callie and I are involved up to here in it.” He held his hand at eye level, meeting his friend’s gaze. He almost told Ash about Sapphire seeing Callie as the catalyst for the impending war. He just couldn’t make himself say the words. “And I’m leaving. Two weeks,” Rowan supplied when Ash looked surprised. “Don’t pretend you didn’t know.”

“There’s still time to find your amulet. You’re going to give up? I can’t believe you.” Ash shoved to his feet, glowering down at Rowan. “I thought you were better than that. Ever since Callie fell through the pond, you’ve changed. I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but the Rowan I know wouldn’t give up. Not ever.”

“I’m not giving up,
I’m accepting my fate. Besides—” He swallowed, not wanting to say the words aloud.
“Besides,
Sapphire told me that I don’t belong here. As in, I
do
belong somewhere else. Another city, I guess.”

“That’s crazy and you know it,” Ash said, voice rising.

Rowan jerked his thumb angrily at the still open door and Ash quieted down.

“You came through the wards. You know how it works.”

“Are you telling me Sapphire’s wrong?” Rowan asked. Ash didn’t have an answer to that so Rowan continued. “There is war coming, and the city will never survive with Hazel leading it. When Joshua died, we lost our strategist, and Hazel wasn’t smart or effective enough to carry on his practices. We’re defenseless, against the City of
War,
against
Immortals,
Ash. Don’t you get it? The child that died? Someone used her to create an Immortal. Even I don’t know how to kill one of those. Guess who else can be used to create an Immortal? Callie. She’s not safe, Ash. Not here, and certainly not on the outside.”

Ash went pale as the enormity of Rowan’s words finally sank in. “Then we have to find your amulet.”

“I already told you. My amulet’s not here.”

“You know when you’re leaving?” Callie said from the doorway, interrupting their argument.

Rowan flinched and dropped his head into his hands. Maybe he’d wanted her to overhear. They hadn’t exactly been quiet. Her face was carefully composed when he finally got the courage to turn. Callie’s clothes were rumpled; a red imprint of his pillow still marked her cheek. She’d pulled her hair into a messy bun on top of her head. She looked soft, so soft that he wanted to take her into his arms and make promises.

“Where will you go?” she asked quietly when he didn’t answer.

“I don’t know,” he said, honest. He’d survive. He’d survived worse, after all. At least he’d be of age this time, no longer a target for the Fallen.

Unlike Callie.

She folded herself next to Rowan on the step, keeping her gaze on him. A moment of unspoken words passed between them. Callie pushed loose strands of hair behind her ears, eyebrows furrowed with thought. “Then teach us to fight. All of us,” she said.

“Hazel will never—” Rowan interjected.

“Forget Hazel. You didn’t see her last night. She’s in bad shape, not fit to dictate what any of us does.” Her voice took on a hard edge. “Ash and I will gather anyone who’s interested and meet you in the forest in an hour.” She touched his arm with a bed warm hand, a million emotions swimming in her eyes, the most prominent of which was trust. “Please, Rowan. We have to teach them how to protect themselves.”

Slowly, Rowan nodded, enjoying the answering smile on Callie’s face. He didn’t know how the tiny fizzle of hope inside of him would pan out, but at least it was there, and at least it was burning.

***

Callie and Ash divided and conquered. Most of the fae were up early, helping clear rubble. The palace huddled, a fallen giant in the center of the city, occasionally belching clouds of smoke and rumbling as the fae depleted the remaining structure.

Callie hadn’t really considered Rowan’s departure, despite his days dwindling down like grains of sand in an hourglass. He was too big, too permanent—too
alive.
She tried to imagine him as human, wingless,
powerless,
it stripped Rowan of everything that made him, like applying turpentine to canvas. He was fae, from the glimmering black energy beneath his skin to the thundercloud wings rising from his back. He simply couldn’t be undone or unmade. They couldn’t steal his future based on ancient, worn-out rules any more than they could dictate Callie’s because she was a child. She refused to be controlled. They were the same in that way.

She’d finally decided that she would leave
Eirensae
with Rowan
.
The how still eluded her.

In the end, they gathered a meager group of fourteen for training, though the city’s population was well into the hundreds. Callie appreciated the familiar faces, Cypress, Sai, Willow, Chicory, and
Ash; though she wished Sapphire could’ve come. Callie missed her sister, and more, she was afraid for her. But if Callie stayed, Hazel could use Sapphire against her, or force Callie to use her powers on Sapphire. Callie wouldn’t risk her sister, and she hoped the rest of the city would protect their prophetess if it came down to it.

Rowan didn’t seem impressed by the assembly, but he was a thorough instructor nonetheless. By the end of the training session, Callie’s muscles were sore and sweat beaded in her hairline. She’d fought Ash and Willow, tried her hand again Sai—who’d already trained as a warrior. She’d allowed Rowan to toss her around like a boneless doll to demonstrate falling.

Ash threw himself into the training, determination in every step, dragging himself from the ground so many times that Callie knew he’d have trouble walking home. Willow had looked bored and offended that she was required to get dirt under her nails. They practiced for one hour, and agreed to meet again the following day.

Time, though nearly endless for the fae, had made its presence known. How far would the training take them in two weeks? Callie didn’t want to leave her friends unprotected. She also couldn’t let Rowan wander into the human world alone. He was only one who could protect her on the outside.

A hard ball of dread wedged itself in her stomach. What would life be like out there? Where would they go? Callie shoved the thoughts away. One step at a time.

She stretched, wincing. “I need a shower.” She twisted her arm to inspect a growing streak of midnight, a memento of Rowan’s quarterstaff. Ash encircled her bicep, and lowered his lips to the bruise. Callie’s eyes widened and shifted to Rowan. Her mouth tightened when their gazes collided.

“I’m going to the library,” Rowan said, flicking his sweat soaked hair from his forehead. His eyes followed Ash’s hand as it slid into Callie’s before moving to her face. She wished she could read Rowan’s expression and that he hadn’t rebuilt the walls they’d torn down the night before.

Self-conscious, she slipped her hand from Ash’s and rubbed a sore spot on her shoulder, but Rowan had already stalked off, following the path the others had taken. Callie watched his retreating back, trying to see the wings he so carefully concealed. A headache formed between her eyebrows and she gave up.

“Should we study?” Ash asked. He kissed Callie’s cheek and she smiled, though the movement felt forced and unnatural. Rowan had disappeared into the trees and Callie’s fear bloomed into terror. What if Rowan just vanished? What if he changed his mind about protecting her and the last time she saw him it was with disappointment written all over his face? Ash caught her hand again and Callie jerked it away.

“I can’t do this.”

“Study?” Ash said, confused.

“No.” She held up both her hands, palms to Ash and focused on a spot of bark behind his head to avoid the hurt that spread across his pale face. When the words didn’t come, Callie dropped her hands and swallowed hard. All she could think about was Rowan, and the distance between them, and how it felt like miles and impossible miles.

When Ash spoke, his voice was hesitant. “I know you’re hurting—I’ve known it since the day you arrived. I wish you trusted me enough to tell me.” He moved closer, touched her face.

Guilt closed Callie’s throat and she swallowed hard.

“I’ll tell you something instead.” Ash moved closer so that all Callie could see was the endless green of his eyes. “There is so much change happening in
Eirensae.
Things that we never thought would come to be.” He glanced away, briefly, and Callie knew he was thinking of Rowan. “I’m scared,” he said. “I’m scared for us, and for you, and what will happen.”

“Ash—”

“I’ve never cared much for myself. When I found out that I belonged to the fae, things finally made a bit more sense. Here, I fit. But there are days, especially lately, that I wonder if I’m not serving my purpose. I know my amulet dictates my status and future, but that route feels empty. With you,” he paused here, searching her face, “with you, things make even more sense. What scares me most about all the change—you know, the Fallen and the deaths—is that it could’ve been you. I’m nothing more than a teacher. I’m not a warrior; I have no training, and I’m so
terrified
that—”

“Ash,” Callie repeated, pressing her hand to his lips. They were velvet beneath her fingers. The lump in her throat grew
from a walnut to a grapefruit. Callie cared for Ash more than she wanted to admit—more than was fair, to either him or Rowan. “You can’t feel like that—like
this.”
She tugged his hand gently from her face, keeping it cradled in both of hers. “I’m not good for you. I’m sorry that I let you think that…that this could somehow work. But I have to figure out things for myself and—”

“What are you saying?” Ash interrupted, suddenly cold as stone.

Callie released his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“I get it,” he said, backing away and shoving a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “It’s fine.” He shook his head, so slowly that Callie didn’t think he realized he was doing it.
“Really. It’s fine.” He made a disgusted sound, something between a snort and cough, and turned away. Callie watched him weave between the trees, much as Rowan had. Her two lifelines, pulling her in opposite directions, tighter and tighter, until nothing remained but the impending snap.

She wished she could talk to Jack, but even he was gone, out retrieving the body of the child they’d lost.