Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

Shy and the Past Life

By morning, I haven’t slept a wink.

I stayed out with Anora another hour until the sun peeked over the edge of the horizon. Then I returned her home with the promise that I’d see her in a few hours so we could retrace Lily’s steps, but I’m already eager to be near her again.

We sat by the lake and talked about everything. She told me about what it was like living in New York with her poppa and the times he’d take her into the country to watch the stars.

“What about your dad?” I asked, because in all honesty, I was curious.

“He left when I was two,” she says. “Mom says he was on drugs. It’s probably good he didn’t stick around. After, we moved in with Poppa.”

I told her about what it was like growing up in this small town.

“My dad knows everyone,” I said.

“He can’t know everyone.”

“You wanna bet? I can’t do anything without it getting back to him. Right after I got my Jeep, Jacobi and I skipped school to go backroading. Dad found out, and I got grounded.”

Sitting there beneath the willow trees, I never felt so…normal, and it was intoxicating.

As I come downstairs for breakfast, the television blares, interrupting my thoughts. It puts me on edge. This isn’t like Mom. She despises technology, especially around mealtimes.

“Mom!” I call, reaching for the remote, about to turn the TV off, when I see what’s being reported: the deaths of at least seventy-four people in a London apartment block set ablaze in the early hours of the morning. An anchor describes the horrific scene as trapped residents screamed from inside the building while the fire raged. The number of fatalities cannot be confirmed due to the scale of the building, but the death toll is expected to be high. There is no word on what caused the fire, but foul play isn’t being ruled out.

“It’s getting worse,” Mom says from behind me. The segment on the fire feeds into a report on the unusual number of earthquakes we’ve experienced in the last year and an update on the mental health of the pilot who took down the plane in Switzerland.

Influence, again.

“It’s getting stronger,” I say.

And nothing—no one—is off-limits, as evidenced by the range of conflict it controls: Gage and Sean, the weather, the fire, the plane crash, and that’s just the beginning. Influence knows no boundaries. It will stop at nothing to ensure complete chaos, utter darkness, a world where it consumes, feeding off the dead. Last night, I finally discovered our only hope for destroying it—the Eurydice.

Anora Silby.

She is flesh and blood and human and something other.

She used the Thread of Fate like it was an extension of her emotions, lashing out at the cercatore in anger, taking revenge. She was beautiful and strong, and I find I feel just as terrified as I do hopeful.

What if she doesn’t choose our side?

What if she gives in to grief and, subsequently, Influence?

I push that thought away, but another, equally depressing thought replaces it—I have to tell the Order about Anora soon. Which means all the fantasies I had about spending every night after patrol talking to her by the lake are just that.

I turn the television off.

“Shy.” Mom’s voice is low. “Where were you?”

“What do you mean?”

She levels her gaze with mine. “When I came home last night, you weren’t in your room. You weren’t in this house.”

“I was with Natalie and Jacobi,” I say. It mostly isn’t a lie.

She watches me for a long moment, long enough that I know I’m not fooling her.

“Elite Cain excused you from patrol, Shy,” she says. I’m just relieved she assumes I was on patrol. “Have you stopped to consider he might have a very good reason?”

They certainly feel they have a good reason. “They never thought I was ready to be a tracker.”

“Or maybe they’re worried about your well-being, like I am.”

I don’t mean to laugh, but I can’t help it, and Mom pales. “I really doubt that, Mom. The only thing Elite Cain or Dad will manage to say if I’m killed on patrol is that I should have trained harder.”

“That is ridiculous, Shy.” Her voice shakes, and I realize I shouldn’t talk about my death in front of her. One of our own just died. This is as real for her as it is for me. “This is hard enough!”

“Don’t you think I know that?” I snap. Mom flinches, and then her eyes harden. My only motivation for getting out of bed each day is finding Lily’s killer and now Anora’s coin, and it pisses me off to think the Order would imply she might have been suicidal. It pisses me off that half the school thinks it, that they will always communicate it that way—Remember that girl? The one who killed herself on campus? It was because of Roundtable.

Fuck Roundtable and fuck the Order.

I stare at my mom. Fighting her will do no good, and after a moment, I hang my head in my hands and scrub my face.

“I’m sorry.”

She exhales and wraps her arms around me. I don’t hug her back. When she pulls away, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and find two messages:

The first one was just sent: I’m coming back. Meet me at June’s tonight.

It’s Roth.

I should text back, notifying him of Elite Cain’s decision to excuse me from my duties. I assume that also includes my obligation as Roth’s errand boy.

I haven’t had time to decide how I’m going to approach the subject of the Eurydice with him. There’s no way to avoid it, since that’s the only reason Roth’s keeping me around. Still, I’d like to have the advantage walking into this and figure out why Roth wants Anora, because I’m still certain it isn’t for the same reason the Order does.

The second message is from Jacobi and was sent around four in the morning when I was with Anora. All it says is When you wake up, come over. I found something.

Those words settle in my stomach like a stone.

“What’s wrong, Shy?” Mom asks.

I shove my phone in my pocket and clear my throat. Suddenly, I have a headache. “Nothing. I’m…uh…just going to head to Jacobi’s.”

Mom studies me a moment. I bite back the instinct to ask when she decided she didn’t trust what I say.

“Be safe,” she says as I make my way to the door.

I head to Jacobi’s and send a quick text when I’m in his driveway.

“Shy!”

I look up to see Jacobi’s little sister, Lydia, run from the house.

“Hey, little one!” I climb out of my Jeep and capture her in a hug, spinning her around. She giggles, and I place her on her feet. She grabs onto my shirt and pulls.

“Come play with me!”

Jacobi saves me from disappointing my number one fan.

“He’s not here to play, Lydia.” Jacobi emerges from the house, dressed in a pair of jeans and a school hoodie. “Mom says come inside.”

“But—” she tries to argue.

“Not now, Lydia.” Jacobi’s annoyed, and Lydia turns her gaze to me.

“I’ll come back soon,” I assure her.

She narrows her eyes and puts her tiny hands on her hips. “Pinkie promise?”

I smile and hold out my pinkie. “Pinkie promise.”

She accepts and bounces off toward the house, sticking her tongue out at Jacobi as she goes. He tries not to laugh as he climbs into the passenger side of my Jeep.

“She’s smitten with you.”

“She’s five. She loves anyone who will play with her.”

“I don’t know, man. You have a gift.”

I drive aimlessly, and for a while, neither one of us talk. I think we both miss this—the ease of a ride down country roads—but this sense of freedom doesn’t last long, and soon the realities of the last few days creep back in. I need to tell him about my strange connection with Anora, but I’m not sure how to start.

“Roth’s coming back,” I say instead.

“What are you going to tell him?”

“I don’t know. Some version of the truth. He won’t believe me if I say I haven’t found anything at all.”

Jacobi moves uncomfortably in his seat.

“What?”

“Look, man,” he says. “Just…be careful with this. Roth might be playing you.”

He sounds like Natalie. After I was promoted to tracker, she’d told me to consider why Roth had asked me. The promotion couldn’t be based on talent.

I scoff to myself. Even I don’t believe that.

“Have you been talking to Natalie?” I ask.

“No…no…just…what if Roth already knows who the Eurydice is?”

I want to shoot this down, claim there is no way Roth’s observant enough to guess. And the Order wouldn’t likely be reporting on what’s been happening here over the past few days. They try to keep Roth out of things as much as possible. But he may know something anyway. Why else would he have me searching for her? There’s something in Jacobi’s face that’s telling me he knows more than he’s letting on.

“What did you find?” I ask tightly, my impatience growing.

He looks away, opening and closing his mouth.

“Jacobi…”

“I did some research on the Eurydice…on her past lives. In the process, I discovered she’s always incarnated with another person. A protector…a lover.”

This is new information. I know a lot about the Eurydice’s past lives, mostly how she was killed, which is super depressing.

I wait. He waits. My heart beats so hard in my chest, it hurts.

“I hacked the records.” The records are a restricted part of the archive that track reincarnations from the beginning of time. There are a few missing pieces, strands Valryn have missed, but for the most part, they’re comprehensive. And they’re only accessible by the records keeper, a designated shadow knight who apparently has the ability to see and read the threads of Valryn past lives.

He continues. “I followed the threads.”

I know what he’s going to say before he continues, know it like I know the feel of my blades in my hands, but it still somehow manages to cut right through me.

“It’s you.”

He says it like he’s delivering a death sentence, and from what we know about the Eurydice, I guess he sort of is.

“In your last incarnation, you were captured and murdered. Whoever did it sent the Eurydice clues to your whereabouts, and once she got there, they attacked her too.”

So I’d been the trap that ended her life—and that would prevent her from incarnating for seventy years. All those annoying questions from Roth about whether I have a girlfriend make sense now. He’s guessing I’ll be attracted to the Eurydice. Problem is, he is right.

“The other lifetimes aren’t any better,” Jacobi says, his voice gritty and unfamiliar. Whatever he’d read must have been horrible. “I got suspicious when Roth appointed you as tracker. I mean…you’re talented but…”

“No one gets promoted before training,” I finish. “Roth knows.”

We’re silent for a long moment. Then Jacobi says, “At least you know why you like her so much now. You can just…stop.”

“What?”

“Come on, Shy. She’s still human. You can’t have a relationship with her anyway.”

I haven’t been able to sort out my feelings for Anora, between the incessant pull and all the drama surrounding her, but being told I can’t like her—being told I can just stop—infuriates me.

“I don’t need a reminder from you, Jacobi. Natalie does that enough.”

He looks a little pale. “All I’m saying is it’s bad for both of you!”

I’m quiet for a moment. “Don’t tell anyone what you found, Jacobi. Do you understand? The fewer people who know, the better.”

He nods. “Okay, fair enough, but what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “Keep it to myself. The longer Roth goes without realizing we’ve caught on to him, the better chance we have of figuring out what he really wants with the Eurydice.”

I take a deep breath, mostly to ensure the next thing out of my mouth doesn’t sound bitter. Maybe this is why I didn’t want to tell Jacobi about the pull between me and Anora in the first place.

“Thanks, Jacobi.”