A Matter of Forever (31 page)

I made it back to him. He’ll make it back to me.

I close my eyes, wishing I could pull his arms around me, but my right arm is useless. I will have to just content myself with listening to his steady heartbeat. He’ll come back to me. He will.

“It will help having you here.” Tears paint Astrid’s words. “And having his brother back, too. I know it will help. He just needs some more time to recover.”

They say other things, but I don’t want to listen to them anymore. I tune them out and focus on the steady thumping below my ear. Eventually, they stop talking when a Shaman shows up to fix me. He’s forced to work around where I’m laying.

It’s petty and childish, but I just can’t leave him. Not now. Not ever.

When my arm is finally healed, I wrap it around my husband and let myself fall asleep.

“Hen? There’s a little girl outside the room with her mother who wants to talk to you. Shall I let them in?”

Cameron is standing next to the bed, gently shaking me awake.

“Normally, I’d tell them to bugger off so you can have your rest, but since Astrid tells me you were found with a little girl, I assumed you wouldn’t mind the interruption.”

Jonah’s mother is standing in a doorway between this room and Kellan’s, watching us carefully. Once I was healed, we were moved into a suite down the hall. Astrid insisted on her sons being next to one another so she didn’t have to split time between floors. And here’s another piece of déjà vu, because once upon a time, Jonah insisted on the same thing for his brother and me. The hospital must hate having me as a patient; it seems I’m always ruining their beautiful rooms. It’s okay, though; I’ll fix what I’ve destroyed. I just need to make sure Jonah is okay before I do so.

And Kellan, too.

I haven’t physically gone and seen him yet, but Astrid leaves the door open between our rooms for me. And late last night, when everyone went home but me, I erased the wall between us and just stared at him—another piece of déjà vu. Like his brother, he’s still asleep.

I thought I felt the cruel specter of hopelessness when Enlilkian had me in that house, but it’s nothing compared to what I feel right now. There’s nothing I can do, nothing at all but wait: wait to see if they wake up, wait to see, once they do, if they’re okay.

Waiting is the most torturous action of all.

I roll over to my back, and shift into a sitting position, one hand still curling around Jonah’s beneath the blankets. I let Cameron know it’s okay for Cicely to come in; it’ll be good to see her doing okay.

She bounds into the room, wearing a pair of bright pink scrubs covered in unicorns, followed by a woman whose ringlets match her daughters. “Mama! This is Chloe! Isn’t she pretty? I told you the Creator was pretty!”

I reluctantly let go of Jonah’s hand and get out of the bed before she tackles me. And then she’s in my arms, warm and perfect, like nothing had happened. “I’m so glad to see you, Cicely.” When I set her back down on the ground, I accuse, “How did you swing those cute scrubs?” I motion to my own plain blue ones that match Jonah’s, purposely keeping my mouth from curving upward. “Mine are so boring.”

She pats my cheek; now that she’s out of that house, away from the Elders, her smile is so wide and adorable. “You’re funny. You should just make yours like mine, and then we can be like twins.”

Her belief in me is truly a wonderful thing. So, once more, I do as she asks; once more, she claps her hands in joy when I’ve done so.

Twins, indeed.

I make her a stuffed unicorn, one that matches our scrubs. She squeals, clutching it close to her chest. “Mama! Isn’t it the best?”

Her mother steps forward, a bouquet of beautiful flowers in her outstretched hand. “Ms. Lilywhite—”

“Whitecomb,” I quickly correct. I’m glad my voice is steady as I take the bouquet. “I recently got married. But in any case, please just call me Chloe. Thank you for these.”

Cameron swoops in, taking the bouquet. “Let me put these in some water for you.”

The woman watches him cross the room, appreciation reflecting in her eyes. I can’t say I blame her; Cameron is a pretty damn good-looking man. But she quickly refocuses back on me, her empty hands now twisting together. “My husband and I just want to thank you, from the bottom of our hearts, for everything you did for our little girl. He’s downstairs filling out the discharge paperwork, but ...” Tears glisten in her eyes. “Cicely is our everything. We owe you so much.”

She neglects to mention that her daughter wouldn’t have even been at that house if it weren’t for me. That her daughter was kidnapped because of me, tortured and frightened out of her mind.

I tell her the truth. “You’ve got a very brave and wonderful daughter, ma’am. One who saved me. She’s the real hero here.”

Cicely beams, squishing the unicorn up against her cheek.

“Please let us know if there’s anything we can ever do to repay the favor,” her mother is saying.

Her generosity is painful. Why isn’t she screaming at me, pointing out that, had I just given Enlilkian what he wanted all those months ago, her daughter would have never been put in harm’s way?

“You’re still sad,” Cicely is saying. But she’s no longer next to me; she’s over at the bed, looking at Jonah. “Is your friend not getting better?”

I’m confused for the tiniest moment before I realize she believes this is Kellan. But, she’s too young to have to worry about all of this. I put as much cheeriness in my words as I can manage. “He’s just tired.”

She lays her hand over his heart, like she did with Kellan. “It’s good,” she tells me. “His heart is really strong. You made a wonderful heart, Chloe. He’s going to be so pleased, knowing his new heart is so strong.”

I purposely ignore the confusion flashing in both Astrid and Cameron’s eyes on the other side of the room.

Cicely stays for a few more minutes before her mother convinces her I need my rest. She’s going home today, and I’m glad for it. She deserves her rest. We pinkie promise before she leaves, though; this won’t be our last time seeing each other.

Once she’s gone, Astrid asks, without glancing up from the blanket she’s knitting, “Sweetheart, what did that child mean when she was talking about Jonah’s heart?”

I walk over to the table they’re sitting at and pour myself a cup of water. I can’t help but peer through the slightly opened door nearby. Callie and Will are in Kellan’s room. Between the five of us, neither twin is ever left alone.

So far, I’ve yet to tell anybody about Kellan dying back at that house, not so much because I’m hiding it, but because yesterday was so crazy it slipped my mind. When Karl found me sitting in a room with no walls and smoldering furniture, as fire raged around the house and trees burned, all he knew was Kellan had been hurt trying to save me.

I sip the water slowly. “She was confused. She thought he was Kellan.”

Astrid sighs softly before getting up to shut the door. “Kellan is fine, though. Kate said, outside of cuts and bruises, he’s fine. Nothing was said about his heart.”

I curl my hands around my cup to steady the shaking. Thank the gods. “He ought to be awake, then. If he’s fine, he ought to be awake.”

They know I don’t mean just Kellan.

“These things can take their time,” Cameron says.

“I find it astounding that the best Shamans in the worlds are here, ones whose crafts are nearly unparalleled, and yet both Jonah and Kellan are still asleep, thanks to their injuries.”

Only, Kellan was more than injured. He died. And the thought of his eyes, wide open, and his chest with its hole makes me want to destroy something again.

“We are all frustrated, yes,” Astrid says calmly as she picks her yarn back up, “but you know as well as I it is not like any of our crafts are without limit. Their bodies are healed, sweetling. As I’m sure you know, the Shamans probably could pull them both out of whatever,”—she swallows hard—“comas they’re in, but if they’re still asleep, it’s probably because their bodies need it.”

Another bit of déjà vu.

Would it matter if Kate knew what really happened with Kellan? Would that change her prognosis? And, if that’s the case, why is Jonah not waking up? Had he died, too, and they’re just not telling me?

I wander into Kellan’s room; Will is dozing in a chair on the far side of the room while Callie plays on her phone. Unlike me, she’s refused to listen to her mother and give knitting a try as we wait it out in the hospital. Although I’m certain I know the answer, I ask, “Any change?”

A click precedes her phone being tucked into her pocket. “No. What about with J?”

I run a hand through my hair; I really ought to brush it. “Not yet.”

She stands up and stretches, long limbs lean behind the thin cotton of her dress. And then she comes over and hugs me. “It feels like it was just yesterday that we were waiting for you to wake up.”

I slap back all the hysteria threatening me once more. I tell her shakily, “I think I’m ready for things to calm down. It might be really nice to be bored, you know?”

She chuckles softly. “I’ll remind you that you said this when you feel otherwise.”

“Do you happen to know how Raul Mesaverde is?” I feel awful having to ask her, as I should know the answer to this myself. Raul risked his life to save me; the least I could do is go check on him.

She bites her lip. Looks away. “Coma. Most of his life force had been stripped away.”

My heart sinks. Cora. I should call my Cousin, see how she is. “What about Maccon Lighntingriver? Do you know if he’s okay? He was ... he was with us in Karnach.”

She says gently, “He’s dead, Chloe. He didn’t make it. Very few people were pulled out of Karnach alive.”

Double punch, right to the chest. Karnach was destroyed by my grief and rage. Ah, Mac, I think. I’m so, so sorry, friend.

I will my feet to move me over to the bed; Kellan’s chest rises up and down, even and soft. My hand hovers over where his heart lies. Please gods, please let me have not messed this up.

Oh so gently, I trail my fingers across the fabric of his scrubs until I feel the steady thump of muscle in his chest. Wake up, I think.

Callie leans her cheek against my shoulder, her arms crossed. “He felt J, you know. Felt what they did to him.”

What?

“Wherever he was, he felt it and immediately came back to Annar to find J. I thought Mom was going to get the Shamans to tranquilize him, he was so ...” A soft sigh of exasperation mixed with loving amusement with a tinge of sadness escapes her. “Well, I’m sure you can guess what he was like.”

My words are barely voiced. “Did he?”

“Find him? Yes. Karnach was ...” She twists the tips of her ponytail together. “It’s gone. Completely destroyed, like it was bombed. Rescuers were shifting through the rubble, but it was painstaking.” She glances down at Kellan. “But he found J. He got him out. I think he’s the reason J’s still here. He wouldn’t let his brother go. Wouldn’t let him give in, no matter what. I think he willed his brother to keep on fighting through their link the whole time. J’s pulse was close to nonexistent when Kel found him. Luckily, there were a few Shamans nearby, helping with the few survivors they could find, so Kel got him help quickly.”

I’m sick to my stomach. “Cameron said something about a Shaman being with Jonah?”

She brushes hair back off of her forehead. “Yeah. I guess there was a Shaman down in the Great Hall who was injured and trying to get out. He found J before the building came down.” She takes a shaky breath. “He saved his life, Chloe. Triaged enough to keep J holding on until Kellan arrived.”

I need to find this Shaman and thank him, I think.

“Kellan couldn’t find you, though,” she continues. “Nobody could. The Council was in chaos; so many of their leaders were hurt, dead, or missing. So Zthane stepped up. Organized search parties.” Her smile is grim. “Let’s just say Kellan was a mess. He was terrified to leave Jonah’s side, refused to even let go of his brother’s hand while they were working on him. But, he was scared for you. Said ...” Her voice lowers to a whisper. “Said he felt you, too. Said that, for all Jonah went through, you were put through hell, too.”

Connections: Fate’s worst invention
ever
.

“He found you. I don’t know how he did it, but thank goodness he found you, too.”

He found me and then died. I tell her, “He should have never come.”

Her scorn is immediate. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

My guilt tells me otherwise.

It’s nearly midnight on my third day in the hospital, and I’m staring at the ceiling again because every time I close my eyes I relive what happened to my Connections. Watching movies doesn’t help; neither does reading. During the day, I stay strong for everyone. Word has gotten out that I took out all the free Elders, including Enlilkian. While people are pleased about this, they’re also brokenhearted about how many loved ones got hurt or died during the battles. They do not need to see me falling apart. They need to see me strong right now, so I give them that.

It’s such a joke.

Zthane and Karl have been by a few times to debrief. I tell them about Sophie Greenfield and what she did to Maccon Lightningriver. I tell them I want her head on a platter, and that they better find her within the week or I will personally hunt her down. Then I do what I should have done days before; I go and see Cora just down the hall. Raul is not doing well at all, despite Shamans working on him. Even his wife can’t get him stabilized yet. I expect her to rage, to hate me, to blame me for him being in the bed he’s in, but she just holds me close and says, “This is who he is. He’s a risk-taker.”

Her heart, I think, is more forgiving than mine.

I still don’t tell any of them that Kellan died. I ... I don’t know why. It just won’t come out, like ... maybe if I just never say it, admit it, it’ll simply stop being the truth. His heart would have never left his chest, he never would have stopped breathing. He was simply hurt in the final battle we shared with Enlilkian.

How strong he must have been to hold that madman off as long as he did. He’d stood on a tiny fragment of wood, holding onto a broken pipe meant for the ground below, and he’d kept that motherfucking bastard immobilized on the ground until I got there.