Page 97 of Alchemy of Souls

“If this were literally any other moment in time, I’d kick you,” I reply.

He laughs, and I feel relief at the sound. I had no idea how much pain he carries.

We stop five feet down the branch and I feel a noticeable pop. A second later Grayson turns to face me.

“What was that?” I ask.

“We just left the wards,” he says, and I stare at him like he can’t be serious.

“We just—no, Grayson,what? There’s no way we left the wards because that would mean…”

“There’s a tear?” he says. “There is.”

My eyes double in size. “But—” I start and stop, my mind spinning. “That’s dangerous. Who put it here? What if the Lawless—oh, god, we have to tell someone, Gray.”

“One thing at a time, Claws,” he says. “I didn’t bring you out here to debate why the tear is here or even to tell you what I know about it.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“I brought you out here to ask if you want to run,” he says, and the shock is so intense I almost stumble and prove him right.

“Run? What are you even—”

“My uncle gave us two days to call the Key. Forty-seven hours now before hetakes over. What he did to you today? That was only a preview. He’ll put you through hell and back to pull that Key from you.”

My gut twists. “But if we call the Key—”

He shakes his head. “Even if we do manage to call it in two days, I’d die before I let that man have it. Giving him access to the Archive Room and whatever it contains is not something I can justify, no matter the consequences.”

I stare at Grayson, warring with my emotions, with my logic, and even with my sense of right and wrong. Yesterday, not giving the Key to the Chancellor seemed impossible, and today I can’t help but agree that handing it over would be wrong.

“But just because I’m willing to put my life on the line, doesn’t mean I’ll risk yours,” he continues. “So again, I ask you, do you want to make a run for it?”

“Gray,” I say, struggling to make sense of it all. “I can’t run. And even if I could, even if you have some way for me to live outside the wards without the Lawless finding me, my family would be in danger. I’d never get to them before the Chancellor.” There is a part of me that still believes his uncle hurt them, that I’ll never hear my mother’s laugh again or have her smooth the flyaways around my face.

“Okay, then… here,” he says, and pulls a cell phone out of his boot, not the one he texts his friends on, one I’ve never seen before.

CHAPTER 47Grayson

It’s a strange feeling trusting someone, a bit like hanging off a cliff by my fingertips. My pulse races and my hands feel unsteady as I turn on the phone I swore I’d never reveal to anyone.

“Outside the wards, my uncle won’t be able to trace your call,” I explain.

Eloise holds the phone like it’s fragile, her large eyes tearing. “Thank you. Seriously. You don’t know what this—”

“It’s fine,” I say, and she swallows.

Then she types in a number and presses the speaker button, which throws me. I wouldn’t think she’d want to share this moment with anyone. But maybe that’s what trust is—sharing the impossible.

The phone rings twice and a woman says, “Hello?” with a half laugh, which is immediately explained by a young girl’s voice in the background singing: “Marshmallows feel like jelly. Marshmallows get in my belly!”

Eloise clasps her hand over her mouth.

“Hello? Hello?” Eloise’s mom says again in a cheerful tone.

But instead of responding Eloise presses the end button. And the moment she does, she starts bawling. Big heavy tears pour down her cheeks and her shoulders shake.

Before I can think not to, I pull her into a hug, and she sobs against my chest. I brush her hair from her face and rub her back.