“For the love of...” I grumble, irritated. “I don’t know, Jenna.”
“I wonder where he is,” she stage-whispers. “Bet he’s with Cano for new-kid stuff. Look, if this guy’s our year he has to be in Bio next period. You can make your next move then!”
“Will you stop with the plotting?” I stare at the practice quiz, ignoring her attempts to get my attention and silently hoping that she’s right—that he’ll be in class next period.
But Jenna is wrong. Lo isn’t in Bio. I know I shouldn’t care but I feel responsible, as if I’m the cause of him not being there. It seems as if I have an unerring, magic ability to ruin the lives of everyone around me. Even people I don’t know.
Some queen I’d be.
Beating myself up for the rest of the day and feeling more and more guilty with each passing second, I’m literally out the door before the last bell has stopped ringing. Ignoring Jenna’s reminder that we have hockey practice, I mumble something about having an appointment and race to the south parking lot.
There’s someone leaning against my Jeep. My stomach sours.
“What do you want, Speio?”
“So who was that guy you were talking to at lunch?”
I stare at him. “A new kid. A transfer.”
“From where?”
Speio’s twenty questions undermine my rapidly failing composure. “What, are you my keeper now?” I snap, moving to unlock my door. Speio blocks my way.
“No, Nerissa, I’m your Handler, right?”
I freeze at the sarcastic accusation in his voice, recalling my command for him to speak with Echlios. “No, Speio, you’re not,” I say gently. “Your parents are. What did Echlios say?”
“That we were stuck here forever. When did you decide?”
“A year ago,” I say tiredly, not wanting to bring up my father, how everything had changed since then. “Speio, can we talk about this later? I can’t do this right now.”
“It’s never a good time, is it?” he shoots back. “No, Nerissa, let’s talk about this now. I knew something was wrong when you started devoting all your time to hockey practice. We were supposed to go back, and my father just kept telling me to be patient, that we would return in due time, when you were ready. That was all a lie, wasn’t it?”
I swallow and lean against the car door. “I’m sorry, Speio. What do you want me to say? That it’s true? That I can’t face Ehmora? I can’t be who everyone wants me to be. My father was king, not me.”
“So what?” Speio spits, eyes flashing. “You’re the heir. It’s your duty to protect your people. The whole kingdom is falling to pieces without you.”
“You don’t get it. She makes a better queen than I ever could.”
His expression at my clipped words goes from frustrated to furious. “So you give up, just like that? Let the person who killed your father take your place? What about our families, Nerissa? They’re still there.”
I think about saying that he has family there, that mine—at least my immediate family—is gone. But I can’t get the words out of my mouth.
“You know what Ehmora is capable of, and yet you turn your head the other way. She cares about power, not the people. Anyone loyal to your father has gone into hiding, hoping that you will come back to help them,” Speio seethes, digging his fingers into the metal bars of the Jeep so deeply that it buckles beneath them. “But we’ve stayed here and done nothing while so many died, and all you want to do is forget about who you are, to become like these insipid humans. You’re stupid and blind. And selfish.”
“Don’t you speak to me like that!” I hiss. “I am your—”
“My nothing,” Speio says dully, his eyes wet with tears, gesturing to the landscape around us. “You are a princess of nothing. A princess of rocks and mud and death.”
My hand cracks across his face, and not even the angry red mark tempers my rage. I shove at his chest, my speech becoming more formal and clipped in my native language. “Shut up! You don’t know anything, you stupid boy.”
Speio’s fingers slide along the imprint of my fingers on his face. “Better a stupid boy than a coward.”
“You are out of line,” I whisper, sliding down against the side of my car. But Speio’s right. I can hear my own voice breaking, as his words strike more deeply than my hand did against his face. I am a coward, because I’ve done nothing to avenge my father, to protect my people or, for that matter, the ocean I love. I’ve hidden here with my head stuck in the ground like one of those ridiculous giant birds, refusing to accept the legacy I was born into. “You don’t know anything!”
He stares at me. “You’re right, I don’t. I’m bound to you here on land by your command and your cowardice. No one bothered to tell me that we would never be going home. Or that we didn’t have a home. I can’t do this anymore.” Speio turns and walks away. He stops at his car at the edge of the parking lot, his fists clenched, before turning around. “You think you’re safe here? That she isn’t coming after you? She will. She wants you dead, just like she wanted your father dead. And she’ll kill us all when she’s done with you. I’m not sticking around here for that.”
“Who told you that? Your parents—”
“—are trusting fools,” Speio finishes. “Isn’t that why you didn’t tell me in the first place? Because you knew I’d call you out on it?”
“No. I did it to protect you.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Speio seethes. “You and I both know why you wanted to keep this from me, because you knew I’d never let you. You’re a coward, plain and simple, and that’s the truth. Well, I’m not going to die here. Unlike you, I’d rather take my chances where I belong. Down there. And if I get that chance, I’m taking it. With or without you.”
I don’t even notice when it starts raining or how long I’ve sat against the side of my car. But when I open my eyes, mine is the only car in the lot. I can feel pain tearing its way through me like lightning bolts. I’ve known Speio pretty much my whole life. He’s been my confidant, my best friend, the one who’d never desert me in a million years, and now he’s going to do exactly that.
The rain mixes in with the salt of my tears, running like a salve on my molten emotions. The cool water soaks into my skin and I turn my face upward, watching the darkened clouds move across the sky, fading in and out and being ripped into jagged edges by streaks of lightning. The storm is an echo of the one inside of me...because of what I am.
A monster.
I glance upward as a jagged streak of lightning rips the sky to pieces. The storm will only get worse if I don’t do something to banish the tornado brewing inside of me. Brushing my wet hair from my face, I stand. My mind races from the keys in my hand to the thick brush of woods beyond. I need to move, to run, to scream. It’s the only way the storm will subside.
Without a second thought, I throw my bag into the car and race into a nearby thicket, following a running path strewn with leaves. I don’t stop until I come to an open spot, my chest pounding and my breath catching in my throat. The storm is still raging above, but I stand in the middle of the glade with my arms lifted toward it, embracing the bulletlike drops of rain pelting down on me. I spin, my arms out wide, sending the rain in the reverse direction back up toward the skies until the air around me shimmers with suspended droplets. Slowly, I pull the drops into me, like the arc of a fountain, feeling them pass over and inside my flesh, and out to the ground below.
Water is cleansing.
But not as forgiving or forgetful.
The