know how.”
“What was that thing everyone was fighting for?”
“A new soul.”
“I didn’t realize they made new souls.”
“Very rarely. Too rare to even hope for.”
We’re far away now, but even from this distance, I hear the continued agony. The shouts and cries. I’m shivering in his arms, and he grips me tighter. Then, like before, we’re somewhere else. Not the tiny pond where we washed off before — my face heats at the memory — but an endless beach. It’s sunset, and the air is warm but not hot. He sets me down on the sand and I turn away to hide my disappointment. I’m pretty sure every emotion I have shines through on my face. I’m afraid he’ll see the storm that rages inside every time he touches me.
I focus on the surroundings. The ocean, glowing purple and red as the sun dips low in the sky.
“Do you dream of this place often?” I ask. His presence is warm at my back, but he doesn’t touch me again. I keep myself from leaning into him, but just barely. Caleb’s hands on mine earlier today were warm and strong. His arms around me just now were like a drug. I can see myself becoming addicted.
“No, we’re back in your dream. I cannot walk my own the way I can with others.” He touches my shoulder, and a quiver of excitement ripples through me. I step out of his grasp out of pure self-preservation.
“This isn’t mine. I’ve never dreamed anything like this.” I shake my head. All the good things that exist in the world seem perpetually beyond my grasp or come only for a short time. I had three hours and forty-six minutes today without seeing the dead, and then they were back.
My dreams I can handle. My life, I’m used to. What I can’t handle are someone else’s happy dreams rattling around in my head. You can’t miss what you don’t know, right? “Take me to my regular dream, to the hospital. Wake me up. Something.”
He walks around to face me, lifting my chin. His fingers singe my skin.
“Why? Why would you want to go back to that?”
“Because it’s real to me. That’s what my reality is. I won’t ever have someone risking everything for me. I’m not Genna. I don’t get the knight coming in on horseback asking for a piece of my soul. My soul is dark … that’s the way my dreams should be. It all fits.”
I wrench my chin from his grip and take off running down the beach. The wind picks up and I imagine it lifting me off my feet, letting me fly through the air, free for a moment. But what I told him is true. This isn’t mine and I can’t allow myself to get used to it. I don’t even want to dream about it.
When I run out of breath, he’s behind me. He gathers me close, pressing his nose into the top of my head. “I’m so sorry, Maia,” he whispers into my hair.
I don’t know when I started crying, but my chest rises shakily against the bar of his arm, trapping me in place. I don’t deserve his comfort, don’t want his pity, but I’m tired of fighting. I relax in his arms for just a moment.
When I open my eyes, I’m in bed. Genna sleeps soundly across the room. It’s dark, but not too dark to see Caleb’s head as he disappears through the door.
Chapter Ten
“ W ant anything from the vending machines?” Genna asks brightly, standing up from her spot on her bed, where she’s surrounded by swatches of fabric. I look up from the book I’ve been pretending to read and shake my head. She casts a glance across the room at Maia’s bowed head before leaving. As soon as the door closes, Maia looks up. Her dark-rimmed eyes are full of pain.
“Can’t you guys go somewhere else?” she hisses. “This is my room too.”
I look at the door, then back to her before standing up. She holds her book against her chest like a shield.
“What are you doing? Get back over there!” she says as I cross to her.
“You have bruises under your eyes.” I crouch before her and stroke the tender skin there with my thumb. Her scent is all around me.
Elizabeth Adler
Karen Schwabach
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Shannon Wendtland
Anna Gavalda
Sarah Waters
Brandi Johnson
Ken Fite
Roy Johansen
Drew Sinclair