Lux (The Nocte Trilogy, #3)(71)

“Will you always?” I murmur, and his neck tastes like salt. My fingers find his LIVE FREE.

“Yes,” he promises.

“Repromissionem,” I tell him. “It’s Latin.”

“I know.”

That night, I sleep in my room and Finn sleeps with me.

“Have I died in your memories?” he asks me suddenly, just when I’m slipping into sleep. I’m hesitant, but I nod.

“Yeah.”

“More than once?”

“Yeah. How about me… in your memories, I mean?”

He shakes his head. “No. You lost your mind a few times, but you never died. You were sick once, and Dare was sick once. Something was wrong with your heart, but then I gave it to Dare in my dream. Then he was sick… but then it changed again. I don’t know how, but I saved you once. I’ll save you again.”

Save me, and I’ll save you.

“You lost your mind in my memories, too,” I tell him, and I think we must’ve passed the madness back and forth, taking it from each other, over and over. Because we never want each other to suffer. We’re twins. We’re closer than the very closest thing on earth.

“Calla,” Finn starts to say and I want to interrupt him because I think I know what he’s going to say. “What you said earlier, about not changing things… you were right.”

My heart sinks.

“And you changed things for me. I was supposed to die already.”

“You fell, in kindergarten. From the climbing rope at school,” I tell him. “How is that something that should be meant to be?”

He shrugs. “It just is. And I think changing it and changing it and changing it is just banging your head against a rock.”

“You’re not going to die, Finn,” I instruct him, and he laughs without humor.

“I’m not sure it’s up to us,” he answers. “Not in the end. I’m meant to save you, Calla. I feel it in my bones.”

I don’t know if he’s right. All I know is that I can’t live without him. I fall asleep holding his hand. In the morning, Dare is sitting in the room, waiting for us to wake up.

My eyes are groggy as I stare at him, and the things from yesterday come back to me, and I sit straight up.

“Did anything change while we slept?” I ask him quickly, and he doesn’t know.

“All I know is that we’re going to Oregon,” he tells us. “I called your father and we’re leaving on the next flight.”

Finn and I pack because going home seems reasonable, because Whitley is filled with secrets and danger and because Sabine is here.

When we leave, when we drive away, I look over my shoulder and I swear I see the curtains move from a small room upstairs. Someone is watching us go, and the hair raises on my neck, because Sabine isn’t trying very hard to keep us from going… it’s almost as if she wants us to.

Dare drives, and I’m beside him and he grasps my hand.

“It’ll be ok,” he promises me. “Just stay awake. Stay awake for now, until we figure out what to do. Don’t dream.” Finn agrees from the backseat and we drive away away away away from Whitley. We drive to the airport, and we fly home, and when we get home, it’s night and we drive to the funeral home through the rain.

If we can just get there, it will be ok. I feel it in my heart, in my bones, in my soul. The tires crunch on the road, and the lightning lights up the sky, and cliffs are jagged and real. I’m so exhausted and my eyelids are heavy, but if I close them if I close them if I close them… I do. They’re too heavy to resist and the hooded boy is outside my window.

He’s next to the car window and he moves with us and his lips are moving and I hear his whisper.

“Go

to

sleep.”

His fingers are on the glass and I touch them because I can’t help it, and I feel my energy slip slip slipping away, and I can’t resist it and I drift away in sleep.

I think I’m only asleep for moments, but it might be years. I don’t know anymore.

But

When

I

Wake,

the road is humming beneath us and we are at a fork, and instead of turning left, Dare turns right, and the tires shriek in the rain.

There’s a fork in the road and even though I see it, I can’t avoid it.

One road goes left, one goes right, and neither of them ends well.

I feel it in my bones,

In my bones,

In my hollow reed bones.

“Why are we going this way?” I ask him curiously, and I’m scared, because it’s like a magnet magnet magnet is pulling me, and I know it’s pulling him too.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, and he seems as perplexed as me. “I just feel like we have to.”

Because it’s fate.

I’m unsettled and terrified, but we drive and we climb, and the road twists and turns and the cliffs, and I know where we are.

We’ve been here before.

“You died here,” I tell Finn and my words are anxious and Dare nods.

“So did your mother,” he says uncertainly.

“This place...this place…this place,” I whisper, and I’m drawn here and it’s a magnet.

Dare is pale, he’s white, like a ghost and he’s silent, because there are no words. This moment is important, it’s relevant, and we can all feel it.