Chapter 18 #2
I step back, taking in what she’s said. Every soul who’s bargained with Milos, who’s been given a different fate, has no memory of who they were before. Of course Aminta wouldn’t help me. What for? Her life as a mortal doesn’t exist anymore.
Poppy eases off the wall. “Don’t worry. He can’t do that to you. Not unless you ask him to.”
My face tightens into a scowl. “How long have you known about me?”
“Not very long. I knew you were different from the beginning.” A playful smile unfurls on her gold-stained lips. “Other than that cute face and those curls.”
I don’t return her smile.
“But I should’ve known sooner. Because of Cary.”
My eyebrows shoot up.
Poppy laughs, bright and airy. “He’s talked about you for a long time now.” At my confused face, she goes quiet. “He hasn’t told you, then.”
“No,” I grind out. “No one around here tells me anything. It’s getting really old.”
“Sorry about that. But he has his reasons.”
I scoff. “Yeah. Selfish ones.”
Mirth sways through Poppy’s near-black eyes. She drifts closer. “I can’t speak for the ferrier or his actions. However, I can show you something. Close your eyes.”
I flinch back toward the doors.
She gives me a tender look. “I won’t hurt you, August. You know that.”
It takes a moment for my body to agree. As much as I distrust every Deathless now, Poppy’s warm in a way that feels familiar. The same way you wake up from a dream, unable to remember it, but somewhere in your bones, you know it was good.
I flutter my eyes shut.
“Now breathe in.”
Smoky earthiness fills my nose. An almondy taste coats the back of my throat.
When I blink, the room with its mirrored wall and blue-sky ceiling dissolves into a long hallway. The potent odor of ammonia hangs in the air. Harsh white lights burn my vision.
I know this place, intimately: Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital.
My knees turn to jelly. Why did Poppy send me here?
When I reach for a door to leave, my hand passes right through it. Shocked, I yank my arm back. My whole body is translucent. Swathed in a moonlight blue glow. Panic rockets into my throat.
Am I…dead?
Voices echo down the hall where two boys stand. One is in all-black, his skin a light gold, hair slicked back except for a single lock curling against his forehead.
Cary.
The other boy is shorter. Built like a surfer. His wavy brown hair stops just past his chin. He’s in a T-shirt and board shorts, slides with socks. There’s a gauzy white shimmer to his sun-bronzed skin.
“London,” I half sob.
He doesn’t hear me. They don’t see me either as they approach. Cary holds London’s hand the same way he held Yuri’s and Hasan’s and Bernice’s. With care and gentleness.
“Wait, wait,” London pleads.
“We cannot. It is time.” Cary gives him a soft smile. “This is not your end.”
I can’t breathe. London’s so close, a few feet away. My heart cracks just like his voice when he says, “Please. Just this one thing.”
Cary pauses. His delicate features begin to harden.
“I do not make bargains.”
“It’s not, I promise.” London drags anxious fingers through his hair. The dried trail of blood at his temple is gone. “I know I can’t stay. But you can. I just…I need you to watch over him. The other boy who was in the accident with me. His name’s August. He’s—”
My breath hitches in rhythm with London’s.
“That is not my role,” Cary says coolly.
“Please,” London repeats. “Something awful happened tonight.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t get to tell him so many things. Things that would’ve changed a lot. For him and me.”
I take a wobbly step forward, then another. My hand stretches toward him. “What did you want to tell me?” I say, my voice thin.
He doesn’t answer me. Those aloe green eyes stay fixed on Cary.
“I cannot speak to him for you,” Cary warns.
“You don’t have to.” London’s nose wrinkles like it does when he’s stressed or overwhelmed. “Just check on him.”
I’m right here. Next to them. My fingers slip through London’s shoulder like smoke. I can’t touch him, hold him, comfort him.
Only watch helplessly as everything happens in front of me.
A second slips by. Cary’s furrowed brow relaxes. Softly, he says, “I will.”
“You will?” London looks ready to cry.
I am. Slick, hot tears that evaporate a second after kissing my cheeks.
Cary nods once. “Now, we must go.”
They pass through me. I try to follow, but my feet are stuck to the floor. Sinking through it. Before I can yell London’s name, beg Cary to bring him back, everything melts away. The hospital fades back to the room in Aides.
I slide down the doors. Pull my knees to my chest. “He was there,” I whimper. “London. I saw him.”
Poppy crouches in front of me. “I know.”
“Was that a dream?”
“A memory. From Cary.”
When I don’t immediately respond, she continues. “He doesn’t dream often. But when he does, it’s always a memory.” She smiles gently. “Cary is far from perfect, but he is much more than just the ferrier of souls now. Thanks to you.”
I blink hard. “Me?”
She catches one of my tears. It sits fat as morning dew on her fingertip.
“He’s watched you ever since that night,” Poppy says. “Cary never goes back after collecting a soul. Never stays to see what mortals go through after. Until you.”
I inhale an achy breath. Reality falls like a stone in a fountain. The splash sends me reeling.
Cary is always in Santa Barbara when I need him. Even though there are souls all over the world waiting for him. He’s known things about me without me telling him. Like Shoreline Steps being the place I go to escape. My favorite bakery on State Street. Where I live.
Poppy sees the questions forming in my eyes. “He promised London he’d check on you that night.” Her mouth curves higher, deeper. “But, August, he kept returning to you.”
She touches the back of my hand.
“You changed him. He feels something for you—for mortals—he’s never felt before…compassion.”
My laugh comes out deflated. “I can’t tell.”
Poppy grins. “Did I mention he’s not perfect? Or great with words? He’s used to being alone. That doesn’t mean he wants to be that way.” Her eyes twinkle. “And I doubt you want the life you’ve been living either.”
I don’t. But nothing has felt in my control for so long, I’m not sure how to get it back.
When she stands, I look up at her. “What about Milos’s offer?”
This is my chance to talk to London. To apologize. To hear what he wanted to tell me.
“It’s your decision, August. I can’t tell you what to choose.”
It’s not the answer I was hoping for.
Poppy offers me a hand. “But I promise you, moving forward doesn’t mean we forget the past. It’s part of the path that got us where we are. It stays with us, always. What you decide to do with it is up to you.”
Behind me, the doors click, unlocking.
“I have to go,” she whispers. “There’s a gorgeous girl with green skin waiting for me.”
My eyes grow. “Leu?”
Poppy winks. “You and the ferrier aren’t the only ones who get to have fun around here.”
She steps into the mirror, disappears. All that’s left behind is a dusting of red petals on the carpet. Like the remnants of an unfinished dream on a pillow.