If I chose Jack, I’d never see Finn or Lark again.
Aric.
Matthew? “Finn, what was Matthew like before he left? Did he bring supplies with him? Food?” He was always hungry.
“A metric shit ton of food.”
“Did he tell you good-bye before leaving?”
“Kinda. You know Matto. He said a bunch of weird stuff.”
“Like what?” Weird stuff from him could be critical.
Finn peered at the tent roof. “He told me, ‘I see far’ and ‘the gods mark us all.’ And something like ‘All is not what it seems.’ I thought he was kind of joking around, but he didn’t laugh.”
“Anything else?”
Finn snapped his fingers. “Oh, oh, and right before he rode out, he caught my eye and said, ‘I’ve made peace with it.’”
With what?
Long after Finn had passed out, I remained awake, listening to the rhythm of his breathing, his sleepy murmurs.
Sometimes he talked about surfing: “Sickest curl ever.” Most times, he talked about his parents. “They coulda made it. Cali would be safe. Cali’s always the best.”
Strangely, Selena never returned to the tent. Where would she be this late?
I was still concerned about her, and I’d gotten used to having her around. As these hours crawled by, I wouldn’t have minded some company. I was half tempted to go call on Circe.
Instead, I mused over my choices, readying to make the most important decision of my life.
I called to mind Aric’s face. He was connected to me, a soul mate. Leaving him to wallow in misery went against everything in me. He did have a shit fate. But it didn’t have to be.
When I imagined him pacing the lonely halls of his home, forever alone, my eyes pricked with tears. But a future with him would be filled with difficulties.
Immortality. Intrigues. Plotting.
I did believe he was learning how to treat me and would change even more—because he was trying to be a better man for me, a trait I’d always admired in Jack.
How hard Aric had fought to save his rival’s life. For me. . . .
I pictured Jack’s face. He was my first love, and we’d claimed each other in more ways than one. But he had so much going for him, so many things to distract him from me. He’d taken control of armies and had become a respected man—as he’d obviously craved since boyhood.
If I chose him, I’d have to find a way to trust him. I’d have to accept that he would never share his secrets. I’d have to throw all in and hope that he didn’t disappoint me.
Mistrust. Fear. Vulnerability.
Both would help me find my grandmother. Aric could do it faster, but Gran might be out for blood if she saw him. . . .
At what should have been dawn, the roosters crowed, demanding my answer.
At what should have been dawn, it came to me.
I imagined myself on a road, my life as a journey. On one side of the road was Aric. On the other side was Jack. Who would I beckon to join me?
I knew what I had to do.
44
DAY 382 A.F.
As I hurried across the fort, the air was colder than I’d felt it A.F. My breath smoked. Whenever I had to step off the plankway, frozen mud crunched beneath my boots.
I stopped outside Aric’s borrowed tent. I could hear him pacing, his spurs clinking. I knew he hadn’t slept. “Can I come in?”
He opened the flap, ushering me inside. He scanned my face. Flashed me a look of disbelief. “You’ve chosen the mortal.”
I might feel like I was supposed to be with Aric, but . . . “I fell for Jack before you changed toward me. It was a done thing.”
Aric’s eyes slid closed, but not before I saw the anguish in them.
I’d chosen Jack for more reasons than one. I’d decided what I wanted to do with my life: blow up the machine—and remain a decent person. I would repurpose myself, return to Haven, and rebuild a life—with Jack, Gran, and one day Matthew.
I would fight to make life better for people, which meant being out in the world. Instead of barricading myself inside Death’s castle of lost time.
Aric’s eyes opened. “By his actions, I wonder if Deveaux still feels the same way? I had a conversation with him, explaining some realities—”
“Stop, please. I’m going to trust him, just as he trusts me.”
“And so it’s . . . done?” Aric looked as if he couldn’t reconcile this, like he might double over—or crush something. “I felt so strongly about you, I thought . . . I had no doubt that you must feel the same.” His expression was baffled. He’d never been in love before, didn’t understand what had befallen him.
Like an affliction? I shook that thought away. “Aric, I do love you. But I loved Jack first.”
“How much of your decision rested on what he told you yesterday?”
“I could never expect Lark to play patsy for us.” And how would that program work with Finn in the picture? “If that’s the only way to be with you . . . can’t you see why it’d be wrong?”
“It was a backup plan. In case we’re unable to end the game.”
“But you don’t believe we can?”
Curt shake of his head. Honest as ever.
“You want me to turn into that horrifying witch, unleashing a power in me that should never be brought to light. I can’t do it. I can’t live like that.”
His pupils were blown, as if he were in shock. Gritting his teeth, he reached forward to clutch my nape. His other fist clenched so hard, metal groaned. Voice a harsh rasp, he said, “Do you remember when the Fool sent you a vision of me, one with nothing but blackness and ruins?”
I nodded up at him. “You told me that’s what it’s like in your head. You asked me if I thought Death should dream in color.”
“SievÄ–, when we were together, I began to. Will you banish me back to that place of nothingness?”
My heart stuttered, my eyes watering.
“Even now, your tears gut me.” He dropped his hand, turning from me. “I can’t . . . I can’t be here.”
“Wait, can’t we please just talk? Are we never going to see each other again?”
He twisted around. “You think I can be near you? Knowing I have no hope of you? You’d curse me to that? My immortal lifetime wasn’t enough time spent coveting you?”