“I don’t!”
“Well, I’m really sorry about that. You’re missing out.”
He maintains a serious expression a few more moments before bursting out laughing, and I decide to believe that the voices were just a joke.
Walking, I stare straight ahead of me, but still manage to watch him in my peripheral vision. He whistles as usual, keeping his hands in his pockets, his expression carefree. I feel uneasy. My thoughts keep coming back to what happened between us a few hours earlier. Should I talk to him about it? Or should I just try to forget everything? I know for sure I won’t forget. I can’t stop replaying the same images inside my head.
“You all right?” he asks.
I draw in a breath, steadying myself, collecting my thoughts. “Kris. You don’t think anything bad of me, do you? I mean… after what I offered earlier.”
I shut my eyes for a second, cringing inside. Why do I even care what he thinks about me? Why do I always care what others think?
“Well,” he smirks, looking at me. “How can I blame you for trying to seduce me? You’re just one more victim of my irresistible charm. I told you how most girls lose self-control and act completely crazy around me. So I’m kinda used to that.”
“Wreck, I’m being serious!”
“Come on,” he sighs. “Why would I think anything bad of you? I actually thought it was kinda brave. You know, in a selfless kind of way. You were ready to sacrifice yourself in order to rescue your friends. That is… noble.”
“You won’t tell anybody, will you?”
“No worries.” He winks. “I’ll take it with me to my grave.”
I believe him, feeling relieved. He’s a very easy-going guy after all.
“Kora,” he adds quietly, turning to face me. “I want to apologize for kissing you in that situation. I realize that was wrong. I should have stopped you right away. I made a bad decision and fully understand that.”
I glance at him in surprise. How confident do you need to be to say something like that? He could have just blamed me for everything. But he didn’t.
“Well,” I mutter, shrugging. “We were both kind of… confused. You shouldn’t blame yourself.”
“I think you’re right. It wasn’t our fault. We should blame Samuel. It’s all his doing.”
I nod in agreement, because I really like the logic.
“By the way,” Wreck grins. “Is your offer still open?”
My face feels warm. “No, it expired.”
“Darn!” he laughs. “That sure was a short-term offer. I should have agreed while I had the chance. What was I thinking? Now I have to risk my life for nothing.”
I smile, because this time I do know he’s just joking. Or maybe not. Whatever.
“You won’t be risking your life for nothing,” I say. “I promise I’ll see you as the high master of Central Settlement. We’ll finish what Jingfay and your parents started.”
Wreck thinks, his eyes flickering.
“Kora,” he says in a solemn voice. “You know what? Let’s make an oath. Let’s swear in blood to avenge our families and follow Jingfay’s legacy.”
He stops, pulling a knife, and I readily stretch my hand toward him.
“This is gonna hurt a little,” he warns, and I shrug.
He makes a small cut across my palm, then slices his own. We press our hands together, interlocking our fingers, and I watch as our mingled blood drips to the ground. For a moment it feels to me as if we’re the two closest people in the world, although I never really believed in rituals or blood oaths. But what I do believe is that Wreck is my partner in fulfilling my destiny. He’s Prince Christopher, the true high master of Central Settlement, and people across our land will follow him. The thought makes me dizzy. Did my mother tell me the truth during my spiritual journey or was it just a hallucination? What’s real and what’s not? I don’t know if I care.
Looking into each other’s eyes, we whisper an oath to kill Samuel and free all the servants across our land.
We then continue walking toward the village. He glances at his hand, frowning, and says, “Kora, I forgot to ask… You don’t have any blood transmitted diseases, do you?”
“No,” I look him over. “What about you?”
“Nah, I’m good,” he laughs. “But we might have thought about that before slicing our hands.”
I don’t comment. I wonder whether we actually followed some sort of tradition by cutting our hands, or Wreck just made everything up.
***
Back inside his shack we stretch out on blankets in opposite corners of the room. I fall instantly asleep. I see no dreams this time around and when I awaken, it’s already evening. Wreck sits on the floor across the room, crushing dry leaves into powder and pouring it into a metal flask.
“What are you doing?” I ask, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.
“Mixing alcohol with sleep meds,” he says. “If Tartis learns we’ve gone to Central Settlement, we’ll have big trouble. So I’m not fighting the guards watching the vehicles. Too much racket. I’m just gonna have them drink this.” He raises the flask, winking. “Four hours of sleep guaranteed.”
“I want to paint my face,” I say.
Wreck provides two jars of paint and a small cracked mirror. I whiten my face and smudge black paint around my eyes and on my lips.
“You look frightening,” Wreck says, smiling, after I finish. I smile back because I definitely hope to look frightening tonight.
The door swings open and Maxine marches in, carrying a shotgun and rifle. I guess she knew exactly where to find me.
“Go back home, Maxie,” Wreck says. “We won’t be needing your help.”
“Hush, coward,” she snaps.
