Page 24 of Carousel

I’ve failed.

“Ara.”

“I’m fine.”

But tears are falling freely now. I scrub at my eyes like I could scratch them right out for their betrayal.

“I just don’t know how my brother and my grandmother will cope with me being gone. Especially if it ends up being a long time. And if there are bombings.”

“We may be home in a matter of weeks. It could even be days.” His voice is so firm. Full of authority. I could listen to it all day. But…

“I don’t think so,” I say. “Everyone knows the people who go into the sky don’t come back. My friend—” I leave the sentence unfinished. I can’t seem to form Cosmer’s name right now.

“The weapon Rhavna has will change the war. Almost undoubtably end it. We will be home soon, Ara.”

Home.

Of course he means Rhavna.

But it’s my home here in Hevalla I’m thinking of.

“Do you really think that?”

“I do,” he says. He gives me a look that reminds me of the one he’d given me when he held the gun up to my head. The look that convinced me he was going to kill me. “Trust me.”

I decide he’s too close to me. I shuffle back a step.

And, from this angle, under the harsh light, I’m more certain than ever that I know him from somewhere. Even though I have no recollection of him. Old Mother might tell me I knew him in another life.

I don’t believe in souls or multiple lives.

Yet I do feel like I could close my eyes and draw him from memory.

“You are unsettled,” he states.

“You are…” Intense. “Unsettling.”

“Am I?” he asks – surprised, yet not.

“It’s odd. It’s like I want to run from you. Or hold your hand again. But I can’t choose which.” I blush. “Sorry. That sounds utterly ridiculous. Forget I said anything.”

His fingers twitch. He takes a step towards me, slipping his hand into mine.

We stand there like that, connected, like we’re one person, one entity. The shooting that begins within the skin of my palm and rises up my forearms is set off. But now that it no longer comes as a shock, I embrace it.

It feels pleasant. Like touching warm bathwater before you get into it.

“Do you still want to run?” he asks, steadily.

“No,” is my decision.

A loud voice startles me.

“Where are you?” Dezeeves is shouting from the ship. “I’ve known magicians who have disappeared less.”

Something about those words make me straighten, and my hand, still in Drake’s, clams up. I strain to hear the faint words coming through the headband Dezeeves is now wearing, but I can’t.

“And was she happy to see you? Ah. Never mind. It would probably have been quite a shock for her, after all this time.” A pause. More muffled words are spoken. “We’re all at the ship,” Dezeeves continues. “Yes. Ara, too.”