Unmade (The Lynburn Legacy Book 3) (27 page)

“I don't think so,” said Ash, and managed a pale imitation of his usual sunny smile. “Actually, I think of you as my brother who's just a shade shorter than me.”

Ash looked at Kami now, the faint glitter of almost-lost sunlight in his hair. Kami remembered her first sight of him, in the safety of her newsroom at school, when she had thought they would all be safe forever, when she had taken safety so perfectly for granted. All she had known about him was that he was beautiful, that he wanted to take beautiful pictures, and that he was at his most beautiful when he smiled at her. The first negative thing she had ever learned about him was that he did not like the boy he thought was his cousin.

You go get him first,
Ash told her.
Promise me.

Kami said,
I promise.

Ash took a step into the lake, and then another, and another. He did it slowly, wincing at the cold, making things worse for himself by hesitating, but Kami thought he was all the braver for doing it when he was so afraid. She felt how cold he was, and how afraid.

He did not even think of turning back.

Soon all Kami could see of him was his golden head in the gray waters, shining like a helm. He seemed like a knight emerging from a lake instead of a sword.

Then he was gone.

Kami looked over at Jared. He was already sitting on the edge of the sinister pool, one hand in water up to the wrist.

“I know there isn't much time,” he said. “But I wanted to say something first.”

Kami went and sat opposite him on the other side of the sinister pool, on the crumbling edge of the earth. There was a shimmering circle of water between them, and Ash's fear as he fell, still with her.

There was always something between them.

“My entire life, all I ever wanted was for you to be real. Then I came here, and I found out that you were. That first day I found out you were real, the first time I saw your face and heard your voice, it was all I could have ever asked for. Everything else after that has been a gift I could never dream of deserving, would never have even thought of asking you. Learning to know you, for real, being with you every day … I want you to know that I never thought I could be so happy. Being with you is the only definition of happiness I have.”

Kami nodded, silently. She understood what he meant: that if he died, he wanted her to remember that he had been happy.

“I want you to know something else. I would have died for this, but I have other things to live for: Ash, my aunt Lillian, Martha Wright, my home, my town. I'm going to try to live.”

He was facing his own worst nightmare, and he was taking the time to give her a gift to go down into the dark with. Sunlight was escaping from the clouds and being sifted through the leaves. It was almost as if it was raining, little sparkling drops of light rather than water. She had always thought of him—he had always thought of himself—as standing in the shadow, but now at the last he was touched with a hundred points of light.

“I want you to know something,” said Kami. “I don't love Ash.”

“No?” asked Jared, and smiled his small, crooked twist of a smile. “I do.”

“You said that death means people are changed but not lost,” Kami said. “Here's something that won't change. You will always be my favorite person in the world.”

Jared looked at her. He stood up, and Kami thought he was going to come to her, but he did not. Even now, he did not. He dived into the pool, his body one long strong arch, scything through the air and plunging into the water. The surface of the water changed from gray to green, with a ring of rippling gold where he had been. They were both lost to her sight.

Lillian had taken Kami aside and told her everything she knew about the ceremony.

“They go down to the pools, as deep as they can go, and then deeper,” Lillian had said. “They bring power up. You go into each pool, you claim it for your own. You have to claim both pools. You have to claim them both. You have to summon them from the deep.”

T
he sound of the bells was coming without cease now, peal after peal, shaking the whole world. There was water trickling down the streets as if it had rained too hard, but it had not been raining at all.

Lillian had been right. Rob had not been able to resist the temptation to come down from Aurimere and into the streets.

But it was not only Rob's sorcerers walking through Sorry-in-the-Vale. Holly saw other people in the streets instead of hiding in their houses. She saw one woman with a piece of paper crumpled in her fist. Kami's article, she thought, and was as proud as she had been to see Kami walking toward the woods this morning. They were wandering, watching, looking uneasy. They weren't doing anything more, but they had come out.

The other sorcerers seemed disconcerted by the townsfolk, as if they had expected a victorious parade through empty streets. Rob looked around at them, laughed and pointed, held out an open hand to a boy walking beside his mother and sent the boy spinning into a wall. The boy fell on his hands and knees in the water. Holly recognized him: it was Raj Singh.

The other sorcerers started to laugh. Some of them.

“Leave him be,” said Lillian.

Rob glanced at her, amused. “It hardly matters.”

“It matters,” Lillian said shortly. She shoved past her husband, knocking him roughly aside, and strode toward the child. She stuck out her hand. “Grab my hand,” she said, and when he looked up, she added, “Take it. I won't let any harm come to you.”

“Won't you?” asked Rob. There was a world of meaning in his voice.

Lillian swung on him, her hair flying from her shoulders like a silver cloak. “No,” she said. “You cannot possibly have thought I would. And if you did, if you know me so little, what does that say about all your love?”

She turned back to Raj. “Take my hand,” she repeated.

Raj hesitated, then grabbed hold of Lillian's hand. Lillian lifted him to his feet and walked him across the street to his mother.

“If you're not with me, you're against me,” said Rob. The wind rose as his voice rose.

There was a sound like thunder in the streets, and more water came pouring down over the golden cobblestones, in every direction.

“Thank you,” said Mrs. Singh. She looked at Lillian and did not glance toward Rob or show any fear.

“Go now,” Lillian told Mrs. Singh and her son calmly. The path on which the two were walking home stayed dry.

Water rushed toward Lillian, higher than before, like a wave crashing in from some strange sea. Lillian stood tall and straight as a spar of rock about to be engulfed in that sea, and Holly caught her breath, realizing that Lillian could not stop it. She tried to summon up magic enough to combat it, to save Lillian, and knew that whatever magic she had would be about as much use as a straw in a hurricane.

A black horse leaped over the low wall of the churchyard, into the square and up the High Street. Jon Glass snatched Lillian up onto his saddle and rode through the raging waters up the way the Singhs had gone.

There were more and more people coming outside or looking out of their windows. Rob's own group was looking apprehensive.

“Come on,” said Rob. “Let us leave them to their fate. Let us return to Aurimere.”

He turned, and Holly looked in the same direction

“You think so?” Angela asked, at the top of the street on her golden horse, blocking the way to Aurimere. She was holding a chain in her hands: a chain Rob Lynburn had bound her with once. She smiled brilliantly at them.

The bells sounded like giants fighting with clashing weapons, the deaths of gods imminent. Holly saw Jon turn his horse around, back to Angela, back to join battle. She saw Martha Wright step out of the door of the Water Rising.

Holly could not stay. She coaxed her motorbike into sputtering life, felt its wheels spinning in the water and thought that it might not go, until she remembered that she had magic. She let her desire to escape from her home, to help her friends, travel down her fingertips, and the motorcycle began to move.

Kami drew in a deep breath and jumped in the pool after Jared. This was the sinister pool, the coldest, deepest pool, and she knew no matter how deep a breath she took, it would not be enough, but she had to try.

The water was cool, cooler than it should have been, but it was not the bleak midwinter chill she had felt once before. The year had turned in her favor. She could bear this.

She took a swallow of the water. It could be air, she told herself. Sorcery came from the elements: she was a source. Every element could nourish her if she willed them to.

It felt like swallowing water, but she was still alive. She opened her eyes and all she saw was painted in green and gold: the lake bed below her, her feet about to touch it, and Jared nowhere in sight.

But she knew he was there. She knew, she knew.

She reached out. She was not falling. She was diving for treasure, diving for what was hers. She had chosen to jump and she was going to accomplish her purpose.

She knew Jared, better than anyone, inside and out.

She reached out, not clawing but calm and sure, reached through water and touched his face. She ran her fingertips over the sharp line of his cheekbone, the curve of his jaw, the slight irregular roughness that was his scar on water-slick skin. She felt as if she might be creating him anew. She believed she could do that: she knew him so well. She felt the curling tendrils of his hair against her fingers. She felt his hand reach out and take her hand. She could trust herself to always know him. She could trust him to always reach for her.

When she opened her eyes, for a moment it seemed as if she was in one pool and he in another, or as if one of them was in a looking glass and the other in the real world, as if they were reaching each other across a great distance. But water moved differently than air: water could draw two people together. Jared opened his eyes, and his lips shaped her name.

Their hands met, and between their linked hands shone a fierce and sudden gold.

They rose to the surface of the pool as if they were a bubble racing toward the surface, and emerged from it wet and gasping, the sun sparkling in every drop that fell from their clothes and hair. Kami gasped at the glory of it, but could not stop to marvel. She had to claim both of them. She had to get Ash.

Jared would not let go of her hand.

I have you again at last,
he said, and she felt her own heart in rhythm with his, in agreement with his, echoing at last, at last.
Did you think I would let you go?

They jumped again, jumped together, into the green and gold below the surface of the water, the writhing shadows and dancing lights at the very depths of the pool. She did not know Ash as well as she knew Jared, enough to create his image out of air or water, but she could feel him. She could feel him more strongly than she ever had before, with more power than she had ever had before.

She could feel Ash's loneliness and uncertainty. She could feel his fading hope.

We're here,
she told him.
We're coming to find you.

There was no answer from Ash. She could not even feel a flicker of response, could not tell if he had heard her. She felt something else: she felt Jared reaching out to Ash as well.

She put out searching hands, and found them empty again, and again, and again once more. She tried to float in the water toward the direction of Ash's thoughts, tried to follow where Jared went. She did not know if she could have reached Ash without Jared, but she did reach him. The tips of her fingers touched the floating ends of his golden hair. They both reached out with their free arms and drew him in toward them.

They both had him. She was holding Jared, and she was holding Ash. Jared was holding Ash, and the circle was complete.

And she knew how Anne Lynburn and Matthew Cooper died.

The power was like water, like darkness, like fire, like all those things at once, overwhelming and assailing her, dragging her under and consuming her.

She felt how it was for Ash, felt how completely overwhelmed he was, felt all that was Ash being washed away like glittering grains of sand scattered and obliterated by the sea. The power came through her. She was the source. She was the conduit, she was the wellspring, she felt oblivion coming for her as well as for Ash.

The power could burn all the way through her, save the town and destroy her. She could see it coming, the darkness and the light, coming to blot out and burn away the fragile boundaries that set her apart, made her who she was.

Except that she had worried about her own control so much that she knew that her boundaries and barriers, the way she kept hold of herself, might feel fragile but were strong. She had already been tested like this, a hundred times before, and she knew she did not have to be isolated to be herself.

Except that she felt Jared too.

She was used to being part of something and still knowing who she was—so was he.

Jared was here, able to shape her out of any element. She could feel his belief in her, carrying her through the tide of power when she could not carry herself. She might feel lost, but he had not lost her. She could not be lost, when she was so well known.

They had been preparing for this moment all their lives.

They struggled upward, through power and awe, through drowning and darkness, fire and light, until they surfaced. Until they managed to struggle and scramble out of the Crying Pools and into the light and air of Sorry-in-the-Vale.

Until Kami, Jared, and Ash sat by the side of the pool. Ash was lying on the bank, his face still lost in dreams, his golden hair mingling with the tender blades of grass. Kami felt she should be much more worried, but she could feel the life pulsing strong through him. She could feel the life in everything.

I'll wake him,
said Jared.
I won't let him go.

Kami stood, and felt her legs tremble beneath her as if she was a fawn newly born. She felt light tremble under her fingertips, as if she could play the rays of the sun like harp strings. She felt newborn and ancient. She knew all the secrets of the forest and was waiting to be told a great truth.

She looked down at Jared and saw herself the way she liked herself best, reflected in his eyes. They stopped for a moment, rapt with each other, her hand on his shoulder, the white material of his shirt soaked through and the skin of his shoulder warm beneath the clinging fabric. She closed her fist on his wet shirt, bent down and kissed him on his open mouth, felt the springtime and the sunshine and the sorcery rushing back and forth between them. She wanted more, but she had a task to fulfill.

She let go of his shirt but she kept him with her, warm in her mind, as she walked through the woods. Flowers opened as she passed; fox fire danced in the trees. The woods woke to her footsteps; the leaves sighed with her breath. Once there was a glimpse of bright pearl and ivory: once Kami would have sworn she saw a unicorn.

Kami smiled, stepped out onto the road, and waited for the motorcycle to come purring down the lane.

“Remember you told me you had an imaginary friend once too?” Kami asked.

“Yeah,” said Holly.

“I think I saw Princess Zelda,” Kami told her.

“You think you saw a unicorn?” asked Holly, and then laughed without mockery, without Kami having to answer her, laughed with sheer delight. “Do you want a lift? I'm afraid there isn't any room for Princess Zelda.”

Kami climbed on, and the motorbike roared to life beneath her. With her friend in front of her and her arms spread, the whole world hers.

Jared could feel Kami's elated triumph thrumming through him. He could feel her and knew that she was with Holly, knew that she was going all around Sorry-in-the-Vale and soaking up every drop of magic there was to be had.

And he knew his place in this—he knew who he had to save. He forced himself to focus on his own body, his own surroundings.

He could feel Ash, in a way he hadn't felt anybody but Kami: thoughts as well as feelings. He knew the shape of his soul, and knew that every soul was made of different stuff, shone a thousand different colors.

He sat on the earth, legs still in the cool deep water, one hand in the deep spring-soft grass and one set against his brother's heart.

Come back,
he said.
Come on. Come home.

Home. Not to Aurimere, but to him and to Aunt Lillian. Jared thought about Ash, reaching out to Jared no matter how many times Jared turned him away, of all the good about Ash that he had ever been jealous of.

Ash's eyes opened, the same color as the sky, which was now washed clean of clouds.

“We need to get there now,” Ash said, starting up. “We're going to be too late.”

“Come on,” said Jared. “Aunt Lillian did it. Amber and Ross did it. We're Lynburns, aren't we? Don't tell me there's anything we can't do. Let's not get there. Let's be there already.”

He was still holding Ash's hand when they wished themselves from the soft grass and the calm waters to the heart of their town, and found themselves on the High Street of Sorry-in-the-Vale.

Jared looked up at his father's shocked face and saw the moment when he realized what they must have done—saw his father raise his hand to strike him down. Jared felt the catch of his scar twisting his smile out of shape, and he only smiled wider.

“Don't you touch him!”

Martha Wright stooped in the swirling water and debris, then stood with one of the cobblestones clutched in her fist. She drew her arm back and hurled it with all her might.

The people of Sorry-in-the-Vale watched as the lord of Aurimere staggered backward, blood streaming down his face.

Jared dropped Ash's hand, bolted across the street to stand in front of Martha with power gathering in both his hands. It streamed to him out of the air.