Nidia’s voice announces my arrival. “So nice of you to visit, Jacinda. Would you like some hot chocolate?”
I nod and soon find myself settled into a chair with a mug in my hands. Tamra still wears a smile, but it looks brittle as she turns to me, waiting for me to speak. In those strange eyes lurks the same wariness I feel. We don’t know what to say to each other or how to behave. We don’t
“Good to see you up,” I finally say, and then lie, “You look well.”
“I’m feeling better,” Tamra offers in a voice that sounds friendly, but distant. I want to close that distance. Sit down next to her and remind her of what we are to each other. “Nidia is taking excellent care of me.”
“We knew she would,” Cassian volunteers, and I want to strike him.
I bite back the stinging retort that
“You look good, too, Jacinda,” Tamra adds, and I know she’s lying. She’s never been a fan of my T-shirt and jeans wardrobe. And the rest of me… I gave myself a cursory inspection as I brushed my teeth this morning. The shadows under my eyes looked like bruises, and even my lips seemed pale, colorless. Funny that I should look my worst here, in the cool mountains that have always revitalized me so much, in the mists and mountains I thought I needed to keep my draki alive.
“Thanks,” I say.
“I’m starting training tomorrow.” Tamra props herself up a little higher on the couch cushions. “With Nidia and Keane.”
I nod. Keane is the pride’s flight master. No draki takes to the sky without going through the ropes with him first.
“I bet you’re looking forward to that.” And I smile, truly happy that she’ll know what it’s like to fly. She’ll taste wind and sky and clouds. I know how wonderful it is and now so will she. We’ll have that in common at last. She’ll understand what I’ve been talking about all this time — she’ll understand my need to keep my draki alive. It’s a strange concept. I can hardly wrap my head around it as I stare at the stranger my sister has become. Tamra. Flying. Tamra finally understanding why I can’t give it up. Why I can’t let my draki wither away.
Nidia speaks then, and her words are like a surge of cold wind. “I knew both of you were destined for great things. You were such special children… and twins are so rare among our kind.”
My gaze swings to her as she lowers herself down on the window seat, picking up her discarded knitting. Needles
“I still can’t believe it,” Tamra marvels, looking dazed and a little giddy.
“Believe it,” Cassian says, squeezing her shoulder.
I stare at his large hand, his blunt-tipped fingers on her delicate shoulder, and I can’t help wondering whether he’s ever even touched her before. I know he hasn’t in the last five years. I suppose he did before then. When we were children and you just liked who you liked and played games together.
Things were simple then. Before I manifested and Tamra didn’t. Before she became a defunct draki in the eyes of the pride.
I draw a deep breath and tell myself that it’s okay for him to touch her. It doesn’t mean anything, and even if it did, even if Tamra ends up with Cassian, is that so bad? She’ll get what—
And it wouldn’t mean I’d end up with Corbin. No matter what he said. I could still be the pride’s fire-breather without bonding with someone. Corbin was wrong about that.
Moistening my lips, I say, “I owe you a big thank-you, Tamra.”
She blinks her frosty eyes. “For what?”
“For saving us back in Chaparral.” For saving me
“You’re thanking me? That’s unexpected. I didn’t think you would appreciate me shading Will’s memory.”
I inhale a shallow breath. “You did what needed to be done. I know that.”
“Yeah.
I wince, certain she’s implying that
I glance uneasily at Nidia by the window. She focuses on her knitting, but I’m not so foolish to think she’s not absorbing every word, spoken and unspoken.
As though she wants to make sure I catch her meaning, Tamra asks, “But you didn’t, did you? You didn’t do what you should have.”
“Tamra,” Cassian says warningly. As though he’s trying to protect me. From my own sister. The irony isn’t lost on me that I spent years protecting Tamra from him. Even if he didn’t know it, he hurt her constantly with his cold indifference.
“Stay out of this,” I growl.
“Cassian, come.” With a jerk of her head, Nidia rises and motions to the door.
Cassian nods. Together, they step outside, leaving us alone to talk.
I inch closer to the couch. “I don’t want to fight with you.”
Her features soften. “Neither do I.”
“So,” I say lamely, sitting across from her. “How’s it going? How are you handling all of… this?”
“Pretty good.” She glances out the window at air that grows murkier with every moment. After a minute she looks back at me with her frosty gaze. “Come with us tonight. We’ve never flown together. I want you there.”
“Sure,” I agree. Flying always revives my spirit, gives me strength. I could use that now. “When does Nidia start training you?”
“Actually we’ve already begun,” she says with a laugh. “Which is basically her talking a lot and giving an occasional demonstration. She says I’ll get to try it again soon.”
I couldn’t ask for a better lead-in.
“About that, how much damage do you think you did that night?”
She blinks those crystalline eyes, looking so otherworldly right then. Like those eyes are looking at me through some kind of veil while the real Tamra hides beneath, buried away.
I wince. Too late, I realize I should have chosen a better word. A nicer word. Her talent is a gift. Each draki talent is a gift. That’s what we’re taught since primary school anyway. Even talents best geared to create harm.
She’s a shader. A draki that doesn’t have to harm anyone to protect and save lives. I should be so lucky.
I quickly try to recover. “I mean do you know the extent of”—I wave a hand—“of what you did that night?”
She looks at me intently with her ghost eyes, making me squirm.
“You cleared their memories, but do you know how far back you erased?” I pluck at the edge of a pillow. “Do you have any idea—”
“This is about Will, isn’t it?” She drags a hand through her silvery hair. “You want to know how much of
The sound of her voice is tinny in my ears and makes me nervous… like a wire that’s about to snap and might catch me in the face. I shake my head, knowing instinctively that I don’t want to hear whatever she’s about to say. “N-no—”
“You haven’t let any of it go, have you?” she asks evenly, but the words feel as though she yells them. “You’re still hung up on him.”
“No,” I deny, but my voice sounds small and weak. Even I can’t convince me. “That’s not true. I know I have