Chapter 13 #2
“—then he’s obviously here.” Marcus frowned, tilting his head. “But how, I got nothing. Wait.” He pointed to the ground, the paper beside the box of Norenth materials. “What about that story?”
Lia knelt for the paper. Their papa’s tale of imagination, a realm of dreams. A guardian that tore it all to pieces. “He’s…a story brought into our world,” she said. “Papa was working on this the day he died, acting all shifty—wait, how did you know about this?”
“Well, I read it.”
Lia blinked. “When did you read this?”
“While you were getting ready the other day,” he said. “I needed a pencil, and I saw it.”
She couldn’t berate him for the total disregard of sibling boundaries. Not when Kayce cleared his throat, stepping between the two of them.
“What do you mean? I’m not a story,” Kayce insisted.
It forced Lia’s attention back to him. She hadn’t meant to shut him out.
But he looked utterly lost as he whipped between the siblings, trying to keep up.
Guilt brought heat to Lia’s cheeks. Clearing his throat, in a much calmer tone, Kayce continued, “Can somebody please explain to me what is happening?”
Lia’s throat closed. She went to a bookshelf and snatched a thin, dusty-red book. “This is what we’re talking about.”
Kayce studied the cover—an illustration of a young boy on a flying gray horse, a ghostly ship rising from the mist behind him—before flipping it open. “The Floating Kingdom series?”
“Last night, when I said my papa was a writer,” she explained, her mouth dry like parchment.
“He wrote that book. Three more, too. About you, Norenth, all of it.” She glanced at Marcus, who studied Kayce like some star he could barely make out through his telescope.
How was she supposed to tell someone they were a fictional character when they clearly no longer were?
Licking her lips, Lia continued, “But what inspired him was me. Because I—well, I kind of created you to be—” Flame engulfed her face, her tone dropping to a mutter. “My imaginary friend.”
Kayce’s brow arched, fixing her with a peculiar look of puzzlement and disbelief. “An imaginary friend?”
“Yeah. Yes.” She found a brown knot in the flooring. It looked like a twisted grin slashed into the wood. Maybe if she stared at it long enough, she wouldn’t have to confront the way the worlds had split open and vomited before her. Nerves got the better of her as she started picking at her nails.
The silence was heavier than a downpour.
Why wasn’t he saying anything? She felt like she’d told him a dirty secret. She didn’t lift her gaze, and the knot sneered at her while she waited for him to speak.
“So, you somehow came to my world?” Kayce finally reasoned. “Then, you told your grandfather about our adventures, about my family, all of our conversations?” Paper fluttered like a flock of geese as he turned more pages.
Lia wrung her hands. “Well, partially, but he helped me bring Norenth to life. All of our adventures, they were real to me when I—when I needed them most. He knew that and helped me by writing—”
“An imaginary friend to be like me? Aurelia, I have memories from my childhood long before I met you. And you’re trying to tell me I’m made up?”
Her head jerked at the agitation in his tone, which had never been directed at her before. She knew the confusion, but there was a blank expression on his face, features carved from stone, his lips pressed in a pale, firm line.
“Do I look made up to you?” he pushed.
She flinched. “No, Kayce, but you—you are him. Yes, you’re made up, but not like that—”
“No, because I’m real,” he spat, thrusting a finger out for silence. Red inched up his throat. “I don’t know what game you’re playing at, but you need to stop. This isn’t funny.”
The blood drained from her face. This was all going so wrong.
“You’re my best friend, Kayce. I don’t understand how this is happening, but—” she faltered, looking at her brother who seemed as lost as she felt.
As they all felt.
Kayce took a step back, keeping Lia away with an arm raised. He shook his head, his face twisted with confusion, dark brows pinched. “Stop this nonsense. Whatever trick this is, it’s not funny. People can’t make up other people.”
Tears burned as her voice hitched. “Now you quit. This isn’t a trick! Do I look like I know what’s going on any more than you do?” Maybe this had to still be a dream, some twisted nightmare stuck between waking and sleeping.
But Kayce pulled away again as she moved closer, the motion a visceral pull in her stomach. One too real to ignore. “No, you’re doing something.” Kayce ran his hands through his hair, holding his head. “Or this must be a dream.”
The irony wasn’t lost on Lia.
Before Marcus or Lia could react, a bewildered Kayce rushed out the door.
“Kayce!” Lia rushed after him.
Marcus caught her arm. “Lia, wait—”
“I can’t just let him go! He could get lost or—” Hit by a car. The fear rose like a tsunami, made her shove against Marcus. She couldn’t lose Kayce. Not when that secret, selfish wish had just come true.
Marcus held firm, blocking the doorway. “I know he makes your stomach feel all kinds of butterflies, but Kayce’s a ranger. Until you get into some better clothes, he’ll be all right.”
“How do you know that?” Her gaze narrowed. She never read that part to him, but the revelation diverted her fears. For the moment.
Marcus shrugged. “You don’t exactly keep your journal hidden.”
Lia opened her mouth but closed it with a shake of her head and went into the closet. “You’re getting too smart for your own good.”
“Thanks, and don’t worry about Mom,” he called. “She’s already at the hospital.”
Figures. She doesn’t need the extra burden, anyway.
Lia’s shoulders struggled to remain upright while she changed into blue jeans and threw on a cardigan.
She knew their mom had a lot to deal with.
Losing their papa impacted her the most. And while she noticed Lia was sick yesterday, there was a disconnect.
Like Mom was holding back. Did she know about this family tale of Papa’s?
The bingo league even mentioned she was a writer, once upon a time.
But Lia couldn’t bother her with this. Not until she had answers of her own.
And Kayce came first. Frustrated tears burned in the back of her throat. Lia swallowed them before emerging from the closet. “Not a word about this.”
“Of course not! Like she’d believe me,” Marcus mumbled. “I’m not sure I believe me.”
Lia grunted in agreement, but a thought nagged at her. Why were nightmares and dreams coming true now? It didn’t make sense. But one thing did. Papa knew. And she was going to get to the bottom of this family tale he started. Even if she had to finish it herself.
“Get dressed,” she said, heading for the stairwell. “You need to go to school.”
“School seems kinda anticlimactic.”
She whirled around to demand it again, needing to do something right that morning, but drew short. She could see every inch of Marcus’s pained expression, her glasses a phantom limb. And she hadn’t needed them yesterday, either.
“Just—get to school.” Throwing the door open, Lia hit the sidewalk at a run.