The Fire and the Sky (Book 3 of the... - Chapter 64: Chapter 64

Em floated with a sense of serenity that she knew at her core was a lie.
She knew she was in trouble. She knew she shouldn't have felt as peaceful as she did. But she didn't have control over either of those things, not so long as she was under water.
Under different circumstances, she would have welcomed the quiet the water provided; the way it cut her off from the constant noise of the universe. That was something she used to go to great lengths to attain. There was never a moment when Em wasn't aware of how her celestial lineage connected her to the unseen magic that permeated everything and everyone. When she was Audrey, the constant hum had been bearable. But once she was reborn and forced to carry two sets of memories inside of herself, it was as if she was living in an echo chamber and feeling everything twice as much. It was exhausting, but she managed.
For the most part, anyway.
And in the times when she couldn't manage, there was always the water.
That is, until she met May. Being in May's arms and on the receiving end of her smile, her kiss, Em had discovered that it was possible to find stillness and calm without depriving her senses. With May, she had finally found peace.
Em clung to those memories — of her and May and the steadiness they found in one another. She could feel everything else slipping away. For every whisper of her essence the Loyals siphoned from her, she forgot things. Their sudden absence was like air rushing out of her lungs through invisible punctures she had no way of patching, slipping through her grasp and out of reach before she even had a chance to register that a new fissure had formed. All she could do was watch the things that made her who she was vanish and wait to suffocate in the void they left behind.
So she had to prioritize. If there was anything she would be allowed to keep until the very end, she chose to remember that her name was Emanthy, she was Starborn, and she was desperately in love with May Alana.
She was repeating these three things in her mind like a mantra when she noticed the tableau outside her chamber change. The steady diligence of the researchers charged with stealing her essence became frantic and chaotic when someone hurried to Wyndam's side and whispered something in his ear. Em watched, curious, as he flew into a rage and barked orders she could not hear. His soldiers, the ones who stood watch in the room just in case Em somehow managed to escape, scrambled out the door.
Slowly, Em reached out and pressed her palms to the glass, drifting closer so she could get a better look. She was staring at the back of Wyndam's head when he whipped around to glare up at her. What, she wondered, could she have possibly done to anger him now? Wasn't she giving him everything he wanted?
The moment hung silently between them, thick as the glass that separated Em from the rest of the world.
And then he turned and left her there, with nothing but questions swirling in her ever-darkening mind.
Rue and Priva were waiting at the door, and it was hard to tell which of them was angrier.
"No. Absolutely not," Priva said, planting herself firmly at the threshold so no one could enter.
"C'mon, Priva," Connor sighed. He ran a hand through his hair and gazed at her dolefully. "Can we please talk about this inside where no one will see us?"
Priva cut him a dark and furious look. "There's nothing to discuss."
"For fuck's sake," May snarled with a roll of her eyes. She shoved past Priva, ducking under her outstretched arm and into the front room without pause. "We don't have time for your self-righteous bullshit."
Scandalized, Priva recoiled. "What do you think you're doing here?"
Meanwhile, Rue stormed up, golden eyes flashing and long hair flying. May couldn't help but notice how dramatically the druid's round face and soft features transformed when she was angry; rage didn't suit her at all.
"I cannot believe you," she hissed, blowing by May and heading straight for Jeremy. She jammed her finger into his chest hard enough that he winced. "As if it wasn't bad enough that you risked our lives by leaving, you just had to go to the one person we were explicitly told to stay away from. And then you have the audacity to bring her here? What is the matter with you?"
By now everyone was inside. Connor closed the door lightly behind him and turned the deadbolt. With a wave of his hands he ushered the group away from the entryway and flicked off the lights in the front room.
"Let's continue this in the kitchen, away from the windows. I don't want anyone to see us."
Jeremy clicked his tongue but did as he was told. "There's no one out here. Relax."
This set Priva off all over again. She whirled around and shoved him back so hard that he likely would have toppled over had May not been there to steady him.
"Don't you fucking dare," Priva snapped, her voice wavering. "You don't get to pull this shit and the breeze back in and act like we're being paranoid for taking this seriously!"
"Shh," Rue whispered. "Please keep your voices down. Gaten is sleeping."
But Priva wasn't listening.
"You are so selfish, Jeremy," she ranted, gesturing wildly while he stared mildly back at her and took her abuse in silence. "Did you even think about the rest of us when you took off? Did you stop to consider what might happen if the Loyals found out you directly disobeyed them, again? You're not the only person who is having a hard time with all of this, why can't you see that? Honestly, I can't believe I ever thought I was in love with—"
"Okay! Let's all take a breath," May exclaimed, jumping between them. "Before anyone else says something they can't take back." She looked to Jeremy, who kept his eyes cast downward. It was getting easier for her to read him, and she could tell Priva's words had struck a nerve. But he did what he did best, and masked his hurt with disgruntled impatience. With a huff, he threw himself down into one of the solid oak chairs that stood around the kitchen table and crossed his arms.
Slowly, and with about as much enthusiasm, the rest of the group did the same. Only May stayed standing. She planted her hands on her hips and cleared her throat.
"I'm here to collect on what you owe me," she said, firmly but still low enough so as not to wake Gaten. "I know you're afraid of the Loyals, but you're going to help me get Em back."
Priva opened her mouth, but reconsidered whatever it was she was about to say. Rue pressed her lips into a tight line and looked to her husband, who ran his hands through his golden hair with a sigh.
"May, I'm sorry — we all are," he said, his voice catching with genuine remorse. "I know we said we'd keep you two safe when we dragged you into this—and we're seriously so grateful for everything you've done for us—but we didn't expect everything to go sideways the way it has. Our hands are tied."
May couldn't help herself; she let out a bark of a laugh that made everyone but Jeremy jump.
"No, having your hands tied is what you did to me back at the farmhouse." She leaned over the table, slamming her palms against its polished surface and looking him dead in the eyes. "Right now you're making a choice, and to be perfectly honest, it's a pretty shitty one."
Now Priva spoke. "May, it's not that simple. We have no power anymore. Don't you get it? It's not that we don't want to help you — it's that we can't. Even if we knew what to do right now, the Loyals will kill us all the moment we try something." She shot an amethyst-eyed glare at Jeremy. "We're lucky they haven't already."
Jeremy glowered back at her.
"Enough," he snapped, jumping to his feet. "I get it — I don't always make great decisions. But do you really think I'd leave without making sure you'd all be safe first?"
Priva folded her arms and raised a defiant eyebrow. "It wouldn't be the first time."
This dig at Jeremy's ill-fated attempt to steal away with Audrey hit its mark, and he flinched away as though he'd been stung. Still, he pressed on. "I've been working on a signal displacer — something to reroute the signal our devices transmit so they look like they're in one place while we're in another. It took a while to get it right, but I did it and it worked. The whole time I've been gone, the Loyals thought I was right here with you."
"That's what you've been tinkering with all this time?" Priva shouted, only to be hushed by Rue.
"Not that it matters anymore anyway, right, Jeremy?" May looked at him knowingly. She was finally starting to feel like they were on the same side. He replied with a turse nod.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Connor asked. He glanced between the two of them warily.
Jeremy gestured to May. "Show them."
May twisted the ring off her hand and held it over the table so everyone could see. "This is it — this is why I'm here. It's the wishing star."
The silence that filled the room was so heavy that it chased away every last bit of air and left May gasping for breath. Connor stood slowly and leaned forward to get a better look.
"You've had it this whole time?" he whispered in that tight way people do before they freak out.
"She didn't know," Jeremy cut in. "We only just figured it out."
Rue shook her head in disbelief. "No. That's not possible. Let me see that."
May jerked her hand back and clutched the ring protectively to her chest. "I don't think so. The only reason we're here is because we need your help getting this back to the Star council."
At this, Rue scoffed. "I'm not going to summon the Stars just because you think you've found the fallen wishing star."
"We don't think we've found it," May replied. "We know."
"How?" Connor demanded. There was something about the way he held himself now—the way he almost seemed to vibrate at attention—that told May he wanted to believe; he was ready to be convinced.
"I used it," Jeremy said, looking a little sheepish as he did so.
Priva's jaw fell open. "You did what?"
"Well, it's like Rue said — we had to be sure!"
"What did you wish for?" Rue asked breathlessly.
A thrill of excitement raced through May like electricity. She was excited for Jeremy — excited for him to speak his truth and release them all from the nightmare of having their every move controlled. When he hesitated, she thought he was being dramatic, baiting their suspense. But then his expression shifted and his brow furrowed.
"Hey." May gave him a nudge. "Tell them."
Sweat beaded on Jeremy's brow. His gaze was unfocused. He reached out and gently took the ring from May's hand, then held it out to Rue. "You need to summon the Star council, and you need to do it fast. This is the only way to put an end to all of this, and we're running out of time."
Rue laid a hand over his and stared him down with her golden eyes.
"Jeremy," she said quietly. "What did you wish for?"
He swallowed. "I destroyed our devices."
"When?" Rue asked. May was amazed by how she was able to imbue one syllable with so much emotion.
"Hours ago. You must have felt it."
The rest of WIND gaped up at him in disbelief.
"That's what that was?" Priva whispered, pressing her palm to her chest.
Connor's chair scraped back. May glanced around — she didn't understand what was happening, why everyone was behaving as though the sky was about to fall.
"What's going on?" she called after Connor as he stormed across the room. "Where are you going?"
He paused in the kitchen doorway and looked back over his shoulder. "Rue, love, you need to begin the summoning ritual," he said, ignoring May's question. "The rest of you need to arm yourselves and stand guard. Keep her safe while she works. I'm going to move Gaten somewhere safe and then I'll be back to help."
Everyone jumped into action, leaving May standing bewildered in the middle of the sudden chaos. Jeremy grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her to the back of the cottage, muttering under his breath.
"I'm so fucking stupid. Why didn't I think of this before I made that stupid wish?"
May planted her feet and wrenched her arm free. "Will you please tell me what is going on? Why do we need to stand guard?"
Jeremy turned to her with a crestfallen look. "I destroyed our devices, May. All of them."
"Yeah, I know. But isn't that a good thing?"
"The Loyals have been without their regular data feed from us for hours. I gave them a fucking head start."
What he was telling her—what everyone else had understood almost instinctively—bloomed in May like blood in water. Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach.
"They're going to want to know what happened," she whispered. "They're coming."