“I’m sorry.”
His head cants to one side. “Whyever are you sorry?”
“I know how badly you wanted to catch him. To make him pay for all he did to us at Fyremas.”
“My issue with my stepbrother long predates what happened in Caeldera. I should’ve killed him a century ago, when I had the chance. At the time, banishment seemed a more humane option.” His voice is light; his eyes are not. “In the years since, whatever merciful instincts I possessed back then have been whittled away. When next I find occasion to wrap my hands around his throat, I will not squander it.”
“Are you very different, then?” I cannot help asking. “From who you once were?”
“Far more handsome.”
I cast my eyes heavenward. “I’m being serious.”
“As am I.” He smirks at my scowl. “Truthfully? I barely remember the man I was a hundred years ago.”
“I doubt that.”
“Oh?”
“You remember everything.” There is an accusation in my voice. “You just do not want to tell me.”
“I have always been honest with you. Since the first day we met.”
“There is a difference between honesty and transparency.”
“Yes. One is expected, the other earned. I will always tell you the truth when you ask for it. But I’m afraid you have not yet earned my secrets, skylark.”
Skies, I had forgotten the vertiginous nature of conversing with him. How he uses conversation like another battle tactic, to disorient and disarm his opponent. How he talks in circles until you can no longer remember what you asked in the first place.
“It’s late,” Soren announces, eyes flickering to the archeddoorway where a gauzy white curtain flutters in the night breeze. “We can talk more in the morning.”
With that, his fingers—which are still looped around my wrist like shackles—slide down the length of my hand and intertwine with mine. He walks toward the archway, dragging me along after him. My thin boot soles slip uselessly against the glowing floor when I attempt to dig in my heels, finding no purchase on the smooth white crystal.
“Wait!”
He halts, half turning to look back at me. For the first time, I notice the deep shadows beneath his eyes. “For…?”
“I cannot stay here. I have to get back.”
“To Caeldera.”
I nod.
“Because your last journey through the portal was such a stunning success?”
Heat steals over my cheeks. “I was thinking…”
“I could see where that would be exhausting for you,” he says drolly when I trail off.
“Ithought,” I restart, annoyed, “you might be a friend and take me back through.”
“A friend?” His tone is wry. “Is that what we are?”
“I suppose that depends on whether you help me.”
“Ah. Yes.Blackmail.The bedrock of all true fidelity.”
“Are you going to take me back or not?”