Chapter 18 #3
“I felt you too.” She reached out and grabbed his fingers, so that their shadows joined naturally. Ezra looked down at this connection, as if he was studying some new cluster of hieroglyphs—trying to translate what it all meant.
“Hence the scream?” he said wryly.
Celia gave Ezra’s hand a tug and led him back to the bench. They sat close enough that their knees knocked together with every sway of the train. “I understand why you do it…”
“Do what?”
“Push everyone away.” Her hand tightened over his.
“It’s easier to stay at arm’s length, because that way your loneliness is on your own terms. I did the same thing after my father died.
Mama didn’t know about magic, and everyone else who did was out to steal my inheritance.
I couldn’t trust anyone with all of me.” Celia looked back at the natural blend of their shadows, the way his calloused fingers wove into her own.
“For you it must be even worse… not even trusting yourself…”
The scholar let out a shaky breath.
“You saved my life in that tomb,” Celia told him. “I know that doesn’t make up for what happened during the war, but it’s got to count for something, no?”
His eyes soaked in the delta’s green and shone it back at her—she’d expected Egypt to be all dry, everywhere, but Ezra’s desert was full of surprises.
Garden roses. Violets. Still more blooming inside Celia, coloring corners she’d long thought dead.
These grew even brighter as Ezra leaned in.
She tilted her chin, catching the curve of his lips with her own.
The kiss was gentle, tender as a first leaf.
Achingly new. Warmth blossomed in Celia’s chest as she pulled the scholar closer, guiding his hand to her waist, letting their kiss grow deeper.
“You count, Celia Sinclair,” Ezra whispered into her ear, when they finally broke apart.
She shut her eyes, feeling the tilt of the train and the press of his shadow and the clatter of her own heart.
She hadn’t expected this.
Ezra hadn’t either… She could sense it in the way he drew back. He wasn’t pushing away. The motion was too soft, and shadows still filled the velvet seat between them, blending seamlessly. He wasn’t holding on to Celia either.
“But why did you scream?” His question rose just above a whisper. “Was it the war?”
“A crocodile,” she murmured back. “You were too close to the river, and it grabbed you.” There were no scars, none at all, where the teeth had clamped down.
“But when your magic struck back, your mother’s screams grew even louder.
” It didn’t quite make sense, the more Celia thought about it.
Why would Nour sob so loudly after her son had been saved?
No, not my son. Do not take my son… “I couldn’t help but let one out. ”
“The crocodile…” Ezra shuddered. The motion went through Celia’s arm too. “I always hated swimming after that. Ruined many a summer day at Thornhill, though there’s nothing worse than swans in that pond.”
“Swans should not be trifled with,” Celia said. “We had one at Rosewick. He looked a picture, but if you crossed him… Well, I do have a scar.” She nodded down at the pearly mark on her shin. “It’s a pity they’re protected by the Crown.”
The scholar laughed at this. The sound sent a warm shiver through her shadow. “What, would you have bitten him back?”
“I thought about it.”
“You’re not one to let go of a grudge, are you?”
“Grudges are all I’ve got left to my name.” This didn’t come out as blithely as Celia meant it to. It was too damn true.
“You got back that locket,” Ezra pointed out. “And the lighter, and the knife.”
“It’s not enough,” Celia whispered.
She knew he felt the empty ache between these words. And the want… He felt that too.
“What would be enough for you?” he murmured.
Celia didn’t dare open her mouth, not even to invite another kiss. It suddenly seemed—if she did—that she might become a bottomless pit. That she might match the midnight black: so full of rage and want, yet having so much room for more, always more.
Ezra teetered at the edge of this. “When we find my mother’s relic, I’ll help you bring your father back.”
Hope pierced her like crocodile teeth.
It hurt.
It hurt and it would not let go.
“Wouldn’t that be better than revenge?” he went on.
“Better?” she croaked. “Why can’t I have both?”
Why can’t I have it all?
Ezra’s eyes narrowed, and Celia felt herself starting to shrink. “Besides,” she added quickly, “you can’t promise that. Not until we know what the treasure is capable of—”
A knock on the compartment door caused both of them to jump, their shadows splitting apart.
“We’ll be arriving at Luxor Station in ten minutes!” an attendant announced through the drawn curtain. “Ten minutes to Luxor Station!”
Sure enough, the train was starting to slow.
Yet Celia’s heart kept racing, trying to catch up to this new rush she felt every time she looked in Ezra’s direction.
She’d expected things to feel different once his shadow dropped away, but the closeness of their kiss lingered on her lips, and hope kept burrowing deeper in Celia’s chest.
Soon, very soon, the feeling would be strong enough to drag her under.