Chapter 55 Rui
Rui
The world had reeled out of control. There was a black vortex across the width of the tunnel spinning impossibly fast. The
ground beneath her was shaking, throwing her off balance. Pieces of debris were falling from the walls and ceiling.
But Rui’s attention was fixed on the boy standing in front of her with his new eyes, so dark against his pale skin.
Zizi looked otherwise the same. But she wasn’t sure if she recognized him. If she knew him.
“Rui.”
He even sounded the same.
“Rui,” he repeated, with more emphasis, with more meaning.
He stepped closer, but she shrank back. “Stay away from me,” she said, trembling with anger.
Hurt flashed across his face. Grunting, he clutched his head like it hurt or like he was trying to squeeze something out.
He let go, panting heavily, turning to her—
His eyes. They were pale blue again.
“Who are you?” Rui shouted. What was going on? Was he Four? Or was he—
The walls around them creaked loudly, lines forming on the cement, the fractures spreading.
Ten made an impatient sound. “We do not have time! I have opened a portal to the underworld. The longer it stays open, the
more destruction it will wreak in both our realms. Come with me, brother.”
But Zizi didn’t move. He was still staring at Rui, stricken.
She forced herself to look away, turning on Ten. “If you knew it was him, why go through the charade? Why didn’t you grab him from the start?”
Zizi spoke before Ten could answer. “Those who seek me shall never see me.”
“What?”
“Ten didn’t know. It was part of the spell, the wish the Fourth King made with a powerful relic from the underworld. Anyone
who was looking directly for him would not see him for who he is. They wouldn’t recognize him.” Zizi continued, “The only
way to find Four was to go around his spell.”
“How do you know all this?” Rui demanded.
“He remembers what he did eighteen years ago,” Ten said with a smug smile. He extended a hand to Zizi. “We must leave now.”
Zizi ignored him. “I won’t leave without saying goodbye.”
He took a tentative step toward Rui, but there was another groaning creak in the walls.
Asphalt crashed down between them, the thunderous sound echoing through the tunnel. Cables dropped from the damaged walls,
sparking and fizzing with live electricity. The air was hazy with dust.
Knocked to the ground, Rui cried out in pain. Her leg was stuck under a block of cement, and her ankle felt twisted. She could
hear cars honking, shouts and sounds of panic from the streets above.
“Rui!” Zizi called.
She couldn’t see him. Couldn’t see Ten. Rubble stood between them.
“Rui!”
“Zizi,” she groaned. Her lungs felt soggier with each inhale. She thought she heard other voices. She craned her neck. Cement
and rock piled up behind her, blocking that path too. The voice called out again from behind the debris. Surin? No, it didn’t make sense; the Exorcist couldn’t be here in the tunnel.
Rui closed her eyes, exhausted and ready to give up. But the rubble in front of her moved. In moments, Zizi was standing before her. He flicked his hand. The cement block lifted off her leg, crashing to the side.
“Your leg—” he said, crouching down.
She felt her ankle and shin, turning her foot slightly. Nothing was broken, but her leg was bleeding and sore.
Zizi helped her up, brushing hair off her face, looking at her with such tenderness, it hurt.
“All this time,” Rui couldn’t help but ask, “did you know?”
“Of course not.” His anguish was sharp and clear. She wanted to believe him.
“Everything you said, everything you told me—about me, about us—did you mean it? Was it real? Or were you only drawn to me because you’re . . . you’re him?” She couldn’t bring herself to say his real name.
“You’re asking me a question I don’t know how to answer. I don’t even remember who I am.”
But Zizi had hesitated for the briefest of moments before saying that, as if a different answer had come to him first.
“What are you?” she whispered.
“Lost.” Then, for some reason, he grinned in that same off-kilter way he always did.
And it broke her.
Rui clung onto him. He folded her in his arms and lifted her chin. His eyes had regained their kind glimmer. But now they
also held a profound sadness.
“And what am I?” she whispered.
“Only human.” His fingers grazed her cheek in the barest of touches, wiping her tears as he leaned in, murmuring four words
in her ear.
She smiled, even as she felt a part of her die.
He pressed his lips to her forehead for the last time.
And then, he let her go.