I should have tried to talk to him about it sooner. That’s what a good best friend would have done. I just didn’t know what to say. And right now, I can see the pain on Ale’s face, and it looks as fresh as if it all happened last night.
“After you left, I sat and stared out my window all night,” he continues. “I kept expecting to see you on your balcony. In the morning, I was so sure I was going to get one of your letters. But by that evening, I was married to Valentina. And her maids were carrying all her things into my room, making a mess of my books, and she was just sitting there, staring at me like I was the last person she’d ever wanted to marry. I had no idea what to talk to her about. And I realized you were really gone. I realized I had absolutely no idea how to live without you.”
His voice is broken, and all at once, I’m no longer angry at him for leaving me in the tower. He didn’t know better. But he does now. That’s what he’s going to say next.
“When I saw you again, it was like…” He hesitates. “I don’t know. I was scared for you, but at the same time, it was like everything had suddenly become right again.”
I’m smiling. “So let’s—”
“But then…” he says. “Then… this happened.”
“What happened?” I say.
“This,” he insists. “All of this.”
“We got rid of the watercrea and saved Occhia?” I say.
“How are you going to save Occhia?” he says. “Are you going to steal the water back from Iris? Are you going to turn the vide against them? Or are you going to… get the blood magic?”
I open my mouth.
“You don’t have to answer,” he says. “I know you will. I was in the crowd when you were giving that speech in Iris. I heard everything you said. And I saw the look in your eyes. You looked…” He trails off, like he’s too unsettled by the memory to finish his sentence.
The blood magic will make me unstoppable. The blood magic will get rid of my omens. He doesn’t know what it’s like to have an omen on his skin, taunting him every second of every day. He doesn’t understand.
“Occhia needs a savior,” I say. “It needs someone powerful enough to fight for it. And who would you rather have fighting for you than me?”
Ale steps back.
“Ale—” I say.
“I love you,” he says softly.
I have no idea how to respond. He’s never said that to me before. I assumed he thought it only belonged in a real marriage.
“Do you love me?” he says.
Of course I do. But right now, I’m in a cell, and he’s making no effort to help me.
“I—” I say.
“Stop,” he says. “I can see you thinking. I’m not asking you to say the thing that will convince me to let you out. I’m asking you what you feel. What you really feel.”
He waits. His fists are clenched, like he’s braced for me to say something horrible. As if I didn’t break out of the watercrea’s tower and immediately run for his house. As if I wouldn’t kill anyone who hurts him. As if we’re not going to change our city together.
“You’re my best friend,” I say. “Of course I love you.”
For some reason, the words pain him. I can see it on his face.
“I know,” he says. “I know. I do. But too many people have gotten hurt, and—I’m afraid, Emanuela. I’m afraid of how much worse it could get. So it has to stop.”
He turns away.
Like he’s going to leave.
“Ale,” I say.
He starts down the stairs.
“Ale—” I throw myself against the bars. “You don’t have what it takes to save Occhia.”
He doesn’t look back
“I can do it,” I say. “Just let me—”
All I can see of him is his shadow.
“Ale,” I say. “You can’t just leave me in here—”
He hasn’t stopped.
“Ale!”
The scream rips itself out of my throat, and at last, his shadow hesitates. He’s listening. But I’m shaking and gasping for breath and I can barely find any words.
“If I—if I die, it will be your fault,” I choke out. “But if I live… I’ll break out of here, and I’ll find you, and I’ll—”
I stop. It looks like his shadow has turned around.
He’s coming back. He must be.
“That’s all you have to say to me?” he says. “Threats?”
“Ale,” I say. “I’m going to die in here. You’re not really going to let me—”
I’m not able to put the words together anymore. All I can do is stare at his shadow.
He doesn’t move. For a long moment, he doesn’t even speak.
“You’ve always told me I can’t do anything without you,” he says. “But I’ve never even tried. Maybe I can.”
He turns away. He starts back down the steps, and his shadow disappears.
No.
I try to call out to him, but all I can manage is a sob. I have to make him understand. He needs me. I need him.
The tower door creaks open, then shuts.
And I’m alone.
I’m lying on my side, surrounded by darkness, when I feel it. Something invisible and foreign comes out of nowhere and pokes me in the hip, gentle but insistent.
The hand of God.
I don’t have to look to know what it is.
A second omen has blossomed on my skin. Right next to the first.
They’ll spread eventually. I can’t outrun them forever.
But I will.
I have to.
EIGHTEEN
THERE’S SOMEONE ON THE STAIRS.
I’ve been sitting up for hours, staring blearily at the same spot. I’m desperate for the unthinking oblivion of sleep, but I can’t shake the feeling that if I let myself close my eyes, my omens are going to spread in an instant. So I’ve decided that I’ll simply never sleep again.
My head is pounding, and my vision has gone blurry. That’s why it takes me a long moment to process a
