Chapter 12
Reva
How did I not notice Torin has no hands?
No hands.
I’m clearly the most self-obsessed person around. I’ve seen him countless times since we were in the labs and somehow I didn’t look at his hands.
I know he’s been trying to avoid me, but I don’t know how I could have missed something so big.
The morning after the party, Aster’s got us both sitting in a triangle at the water’s edge, bathed in the light of the morning sun, and he’s gripping... nothing. He’s holding the space where Torin’s hands should be.
“They’re still there, you just can’t see them,” Torin assures me. It’s the same thing he told me last night and even as he squeezes my hand to demonstrate, I still can’t quite wrap my head around it.
“I don’t understand how I missed it,” I tell him.
“I’ve been hiding it from you,” he replies with a shrug. “I thought you had enough on your plate without adding this. And then I just kept on keeping it to myself.”
“Well, I feel weirdly better today,” I tell him. No headache. No nausea. “I actually feel a lot better than I have in weeks.”
“Maybe spending time with us all last night was good for you,” Aster teases with a little grin.
I huff a laugh, but something niggles at the back of my brain.
He might be right.
The last time I felt a fraction as good as this was sitting in Kit’s lap, at least until he got distracted and I had to persuade him to head to bed.
Something to think about later. Right now, I’m focused on the two men in front of me.
Kit’s who knows where, while Jack and Finch both disappeared off somewhere during the party and haven’t been seen since.
Meanwhile, Frannie’s sitting close by with her head tilted up to the sun, hanging around just in case things go wrong with whatever Aster has planned for us.
I’m not entirely sure what she’s expecting to happen. But, judging by the bucket of sand at her feet, it feels a bit like she thinks one or more of us will set on fire any minute.
That’s not likely to happen. At least, I don’t think it is.
“What is it we’re trying to do here?” I ask. “You want to try to take some of Torin’s magic and feed it into my skin?”
“It sounds like he absorbed too much excess magic from the labs,” Aster replies. “I thought we might kill two birds with one stone. Drain Torin’s excess magic and push it back into your skin.” He gives me a lopsided smile. “That’s the intention, anyway.”
“And you’re good with this?” I ask Torin.
He nods his gorgeous head, blond hair falling in artful tendrils around his face, and I’m struck with the urge to pull down his bun and see it in all of its glory. “I trust him.”
It takes me a second for his words to sink in, too distracted by Torin’s powerful presence. When I pull my eyes away from him, Aster’s watching with a pleased grin and is holding his hand out to me to take.
“Are we ready to start?”
Aster twists over his shoulder and gives Frannie a little wave, and she salutes him back.
I then take a steadying breath, focusing on the feeling of the gritty sand beneath my legs, and when I squeeze my eyes shut, all I can see is the glow of the sunlight behind my eyelids.
There’s still a chill in the air, the breeze off the sea whipping my hair against my face and neck, but I breathe it in, searing my lungs with the cold.
Putting my cold fingers into Aster’s hand on one side and Torin’s massive paw on the other, we form an odd little triangle.
“All righty then,” Aster says, his arresting amber eyes meeting mine as soon as I open them. “Are you still happy translating for me?”
I nod, and Aster begins to talk Torin through the steps while I translate.
“I want you to go deep into that place inside you where your bear lives,” Aster says. “Draw it out.”
A growl immediately rumbles out of Torin’s chest, and he fists his hands in his lap, knuckles bleaching white.
“Focus on the tingles in your fingertips that tell you your hands are still right where they should be,” Aster continues, completely unmoved by the rumbling that continues emanating from Torin’s chest. “Draw it out.”
Torin grunts. “Steady.”
It’s hard to tell if he’s talking to Aster or to himself. I lock eyes with Aster, and he gives me a slight nod. Reaching forward, I then press my fingertips to the thick, soft material of skin.
Then Aster murmurs something under his breath, speaking words I don’t recognise and grabbing Torin’s hand as he pushes it against my skin.
He starts up a slow, steady chant, and I feel tingles spreading up from the point where my fingers are making contact, all the way up my arms until it reaches my face.
I squeeze my eyes shut, but the usual sense of unease and disgust from other people touching my skin doesn’t hit me.
Instead, my mind flits back to one of the last times I was with Noush, remembering exactly how it felt to shift into her form.
She insisted we play with a sea lion who was really not into our games, and we almost got a nasty nip for our troubles.
She’s always getting me into trouble. Like the time she got a little too close to a prickly fish, and we wound up with a faceful of spikes that were a bastard to pull out.
My lips twitch into a small smile at the memory.
I’m so lost in my head, I almost miss the moment Aster stops chanting.
My eyes flicker open and I meet Torin’s eyes first. He’s breathing hard and rubbing at the centre of his chest.
“Steady,” he growls, and this time, I know without a doubt that he’s talking to his bear.
Focusing my gaze on Aster, he meets my eyes with a steadiness that almost distracts from the circles under his eyes.
I can already tell that it hasn’t worked. My skin feels just as lifeless under my palms as it has since that terrible woman got her hands on it.
I’m tempted not to bother slipping the skin over my shoulders when I already know the outcome. But Aster and Torin are both looking at me expectantly, and a voice that sounds awfully like Noush’s whispers in my ear that I should just do it, you coward.
Over my shoulders it goes, and I sit there for a beat, two beats, waiting for the transformation that never comes.
We all freeze where we are as nothing happens. Aster’s expression falls just enough to make my stomach ache, and Torin lets out a little growl of frustration.
“It’s all right,” I say. “It was a long shot.”
There has to be some way to fix things. I just can’t comprehend a world where I’ve lost her, where I have to keep going without the other half of my soul. Without—
Something shifts inside me, my chest growing tight as I keep the skin wrapped around me.
Like this, it doesn’t even feel like mine.
It’s like someone chopped off my hand, and I’ve been carrying the withered and rotting remains around with me ever since.
I tug off my skin in a hurry, fighting to keep my breathing even and to ignore the buzzing in my ears as panic rises through my torso until it feels like there’s a vice around my lungs.
What the hell was that?
Aster is reaching forward and has his hands on my skin again with a frown on his face while Torin twists away, breathing hard like he’s fighting to get his bear under control.
“Something happened,” Aster says quietly, his eyes snapping to mine.
“How do you mean?” I wrap my arms around my middle, hugging myself tightly.
“I don’t think it was a total failure,” he replies. “I felt something shift, but I don’t think we had enough magic.” He squeezes my hand in his with a firm nod. “We’ll try again.”
His firmness settles something in me, chasing away the tight feeling in my chest so that I can take a full breath again.
He’s right, I can’t give into despair, I can’t give up on Noush. Not now.
“We try again.”
AND SO THE THREE OF us try again later that night and then in the morning, just in case the transfer works better by daylight or moonlight. But every time, Torin’s fingers stay invisible and my skin remains lifeless.
On the third day, we’re sitting there in the middle of the afternoon just after the moon has risen as a faded version of itself. The transfer has failed yet again, and I’m sitting, trying to breathe through the sensation that my chest is caving in on itself.
There’s a crack of wood snapping from somewhere behind, and Torin jumps to his feet, heading for the treeline.
A moment later, Kit staggers out, his face creased with confusion.
Aster and I leap to our feet as Kit staggers forward.
His face has a long scratch along one cheek, and there are leaves tangled in his hair.
“Kit? What’s happening?” I hurry toward him, gripping his cold fingers in mine. “Where have you been?”
“How do you mean?” He blinks, rubbing his eyes.
“I’ve been back to your room over and over since the other night, but you weren’t there,” I tell him. I even tried tracking Finch down to find him, but he’s also been awfully elusive of late.
There’s more rustling from the trees, as though there’s an animal caught up in the branches.
“I think I might need help,” Kit says, right as a raven drops from the tree. Its small body lands heavily on the ground, lying there motionless with a fabric bag beside it.
The raven gives a very un-ravenlike groan before shifting into Jack’s usual form. His eyes flutter open, and he gives a wide, goofy smile before promptly passing out. There’s blood on his bare torso, and Aster crouches down beside him, inspecting the wound.
Almost as though our heads are joined on a string, we all turn to look at Kit, who’s looking even more confused than ever.
“Is this what you need help with?”
Kit shakes his head with a wry smile. “Would you believe I had nothing to do with that? I’ve been having some, er, issues,” he rasps. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’ve not been around much recently.”
Aster snorts, grabbing the bag Jack dropped while Torin hefts Jack’s body into his arms.
“You’ve been busy,” I reply gently.