Unspoken: The Lynburn Legacy (26 page)

K
ami’s eyes opened and she stretched, both reflexive moves that woke her up a good deal faster than usual. The stretch brought her body into contact with Jared’s, lightly touching all along one side. It was very strange to be so fiercely aware of one edge of your body.

Jared was lying propped up on one arm, looking down at her.
Good morning
, he said silently, and the two things fused together, the voice in her head and the boy in her bed. They almost seemed natural.

Good morning
, said Kami.
You look better
. She should have spoken aloud. It was too intimate, morning sunlight and rumpled sheets and silence. It made Jared think—or perhaps she was the one who thought it—of when they were fourteen.

There were thoughts you couldn’t help having at fourteen, thoughts they couldn’t help sharing. Kami thought of them now and felt the blood wash hot into her face.

He was real now, and looking down at her, lying close beside her. The mattress dipped under his weight, so her body inclined naturally toward his. She touched his mind and saw his intense focus on her, their minds mirrors reflecting back
on each other. The shape of him was encompassable, potentially knowable, and yet terrifying and strange. She could map out the muscles and planes of his shoulders under her palms. It was possible.

Kami thought she could reach up and slide her palm up the nape of his neck, and as she thought that, she heard his breath catch.

On that sound, the door opened, and Jared threw himself backward off the bed.

“What the hell is going on?” demanded Kami’s dad, advancing with his black eyes snapping.

Jared blurted, “My intentions are honorable.”

Kami sat up straight in her bed and stared in Jared’s direction. “Are you completely crazy?” she wanted to know. “This isn’t the eighteenth century. How do you think that’s going to help?”

“Well, I mean,” Jared said, back against the wall like a cornered animal. “When we’re older. I mean—”

“Please shut up,” Kami begged.

“I agree with Kami,” said Dad. “When you’re in an abyss-like hole, quit digging.” He did look marginally amused now, rather than homicidal. “Ash Lynburn, I presume.”

Jared made a face. “I’m the other one.”

“Oh,” said Kami’s father. “The one with the motorcycle? In my daughter’s bedroom. At an ungodly hour of the morning. Fantastic. What was that about your intentions again?”

“I’m just going to go,” Jared decided.

“Might be best,” said Dad.

“She isn’t seeing Ash.”

“She talks for herself,” Kami announced loudly. “Or
rather, she doesn’t talk about things like that with her father, ever, at any time. And neither should anyone else.”

“So, I really must be going,” Jared resumed. “I have to be … somewhere else.”

That was when Kami realized something that should have been obvious before. Jared really was completely better. He looked uncomfortable, but other than that he was his normal color, not holding himself with any trace of pain. His thoughts hummed along hers unchecked, not hiding any pain.

People didn’t get sick like that, or recover like this, but her mother had said the Lynburns were not people.

Jared glanced at Dad, then back at Kami, and said, “I’ll call you later.”

You have never called me once in the entirety of your life
, said Kami.
I’ll talk to you in a few minutes
.

Jared nodded to her dad, who watched him with narrowed eyes as he went past. Kami heard Jared’s steps going down the stairs before her father shut the door and cut the sound off.

“So, I know what the ladies like,” Dad said. “I used to be a bad boy myself.”

Kami raised her eyebrows. “Oh, you were?”

“I won’t go into it, because I know you honor and respect me as your parent, and I don’t want to spoil your illusions,” said Dad. “Also I don’t want to give you any ideas. Let’s just say there were fires.”

“Dad! You set
fires
?”

“Fires happened,” said Dad. “And then there was your
mother. She had no time for any of that. She didn’t try to reform me. She wasn’t allured by my wiles.”

“You had wiles?” Kami inquired, with even more disbelief than she’d shown regarding the fires.

“Damn good wiles,” said Dad. “And I was smoother than that sullen blond kid too. Way smoother.” There was a glint in his eye.

“You were saying about Mum?” Kami asked hastily.

“Claire was working in a restaurant and taking classes in business management when we were fifteen years old,” said Dad. “She knew what she wanted. There was no reason for her to bother with me. Unless I made myself less of a bother. What I’m trying to say is, you can’t change a guy. Concentrate on your own life. Someone whose hobbies include trying to break his neck on a motorcycle and slipping into a girl’s bedroom first thing in the morning isn’t worth bothering about.”

“He’s actually been here since last night.”

Dad’s fingers tightened on the doorknob even though his voice stayed light. “I really need to buy that shotgun.”

“He was sick and needed to lie down,” said Kami.

“Uh-huh,” said Dad.

“He was literally unconscious, and Mum and I had to carry him up the stairs.”

“Oldest trick in the book,” grumbled Dad, but his brow cleared. “Claire didn’t mention anything about this.”

“Maybe because she thought you’d go out and buy a shotgun?”

“Maybe,” Dad conceded. He left the doorway and went
over to Kami, sinking onto the mattress beside her and sliding an arm around her shoulders.

“It’s not what it looked like,” Kami said. “We’re not like that. He’s my friend, that’s all.” Except that wasn’t all. He was always part of her thoughts, and now that he was real, he was inescapably part of her life, but it was as she had told her mother: saying he was part of her or that they were more than friends sounded like love, but it seemed like loss as well. All the words she knew to describe what he was to her were from love stories and love songs, but those were not words anyone truly meant.

They were like Jared, in a way. If they were real, they would be terrifying.

Kami did not know what Jared wanted. Kami didn’t know what she wanted either, except that she was scared all the limits she’d set would be burned away, all control lost, and she would be lost too. And she was scared to want anything. It felt as if their parents had traded away so much of their children and so many of their choices on that night long ago.

“I want you safe, that’s all,” said her father into the silence of her thoughts, and the shadow in his voice let Kami know he was thinking of Nicola. “I want you safe in every way.”

Her mother had wanted to keep them all safe. Her father didn’t know anything. Kami leaned her head against his shoulder and shut her eyes. “I know.”

Which was when she became aware of the current of Jared’s thoughts turning cold. He was alone in the woods as he followed her memories of what her mother had told her last night.

Jared went stumbling through the undergrowth, twigs pulling at his clothes. He made for the Crying Pools. He dreamed of these lakes every night, two wide eyes reflecting the sky and hiding secrets. He didn’t know why he wanted to be near them, but he did. When he reached them, he threw himself down on the mossy bank beside the pool on the left and bowed his head over his clenched hands.

Kami had been right, and he had been wrong. The link was not some undeserved but beautiful gift sent to redeem the rest of his life. His and Kami’s connection was the ugly side effect of his mother threatening and terrifying hers. A shadow falling on his clenched hands and turning the lake black made him look up at the sky. There were clouds that had not been there when the sun was streaming through Kami’s window, black rags like tatters of mourning cloth hiding the sun.

The skin at the back of Jared’s neck crawled. He looked around, the air chill as if he was underwater. There was someone leaning toward him—a girl, her translucent green body bowing out of the heart of a tree. Jared held still, feeling like a startled animal, staring into her face.

Her eyes were hollows, green as the woods. Her hair swayed, moving like willow leaves in the wind. She leaned in close and kissed his cheek, soft as rain.

Jared shuddered, then panic exploded through him. He wanted to go back to Kami. Instead he wrenched himself up from the bank and away through the woods, up to the manor house. The double doors, above which blazed the legend
YOU ARE NOT SAFE
, crashed open. Jared hadn’t touched them.
He strode into the echoing dark hall and came face to face with Ash at the bottom of the stairs.

“A green girl in the woods just kissed me,” he announced furiously. “What is wrong with the world?”

Ash stared at him, and to Jared’s amazement a look of stunned joy shone in his eyes. “You woke the woods?”

“God damn it,” said Jared, and punched Ash in the face.

Ash fell back, grabbing the banister to support himself. Jared wheeled away and the doors of the library hit the walls. Inside, his mother sat by an empty fire, she and Aunt Lillian on each side of the grate like matching statues. His uncle Rob leaned against the mantel exactly between them.

“I want to know what the hell is going on,” Jared demanded. “The manor, the woods, dreaming about the lakes. I know what you did to Kami’s mother. I want to know what kind of monsters you people are.”

Aunt Lillian broke up the tableau, rising to her feet and walking toward him with a click of heels. She raised a hand, and Jared heard the doors of Aurimere close behind him. Aunt Lillian smiled.

“We’re sorcerers,” she said. She reached up and laid her hand against his cheek, nails sharp against his skin. “And so are you.”

“S
o, now I know what kind of monster I am, what does that mean?” Jared asked. He pulled away from Aunt Lillian’s hand and stalked toward the window. Black clouds were still blotting out the sun. “Did I do this?”

“I think so,” said Aunt Lillian. “That’s what sorcerers do, bend the natural world to their will. You caused the storm last week. We could feel it in the rain. We wondered if the one who created the storm was doing the killing.”

Breath felt stolen from Jared. His lungs burned. “I didn’t kill that girl,” he rasped. He turned and looked at his family. Ash was at the door now, blood on his mouth. Jared’s whole family watched him back in silence.

“I didn’t,” Jared repeated, louder. “Why would I?”

“Sometimes a sorcerer makes mistakes,” Aunt Lillian said. “We’re sorcerers. That means we need sources. That’s what this town was built for, for sorcerers to be safe.”

We neither drown nor burn
, said Kami in his mind, as if this made sense to her.
They used to drown and burn witches
.

“Sorry-in-the-Vale was designed for sorcerers to live in and feed off the woods, the animals, all the life surrounding
us, in a place that does not change.” Aunt Lillian looked at Jared, her gaze intent but remote, as if she wanted to see right through his skin to the blood in his veins. “You must have noticed that you’re not getting sick this year, when the summer dies. When you always did before. The cities make you sick.”

When the summer dies?
Jared thought at Kami.
This is ridiculous
.

Kami said,
Stay calm, I want to know more
.

“I’m not a timid woodland creature,” Jared snapped. “I don’t need to be kept on a nature preserve.”

“We’re not making this up to upset you, son,” Uncle Rob said. “None of us chose to be what we are. We just live with it.”

“We didn’t even know if you
would
be a sorcerer,” said Ash from the door, speaking carefully; nobody had mentioned his cut mouth. “Your father wasn’t.”

Jared’s eyes met Ash’s. The word “half-breed” hung in the air between them. All his life, he’d thought of his father’s blood as the poison in his veins, violence and fury. But his mother’s blood was poison too. Jared could not help but think of the two bloods mingling, of what strange terrible brew they had made.

Outside the window, storm clouds boiled.

“We are not the only sorcerers in Sorry-in-the-Vale,” said Aunt Lillian, and Jared thought of Henry Thornton’s pale face in London, sick with the city. “We’re the founders, the leaders. And we are the ones who have intermarried, so more of our children are sorcerers. We can’t know which of the
descendants of sorcerers in this town have power. We don’t know which is the one killing for it.”

“You weren’t searching,” Jared stated, “because you thought it was me.”

“Ours is hungry magic,” said Aunt Lillian. “There’s power to be taken from life. From the woods, from animals. We take tokens of life, blood or hair or belongings, to focus or strengthen a spell. We can take power from certain living humans, more power than anything else, though we don’t do that anymore. There is also power to be gained from death: more power, though it lasts a very short time. You wouldn’t be the first sorcerer to think death was the only road to power and try for the greatest power by making a human sacrifice. All the Lynburns used to do it. The town used to let them. Every year, the sorcerers would take a death from the town to use as a source, and in return the town prospered. But we stopped accepting sacrifices before I was born.”