The Other Side of the Sky - Amie Kaufman Page 0,74
thing in your world. I can’t say I believe in it the way you do, but I don’t think you’re a fool. I definitely don’t think you’re a fool.”
His voice is always warmed by amusement, but just now, it doesn’t feel like he’s laughing. If anything, he’s more solemn than usual. When I fail to reply straightaway, he draws breath to speak, but then halts, meeting my eyes.
“The strangest thing,” he murmurs, scanning my features, intent. “Sitting here with you, I almost could believe in it. In all of it. There’s something about you I … can’t explain.”
My thoughts are racing, along with my pulse—I wish I had that scroll, I wish I could know he was divine, I wish I could know, so I could …
We’re closer than we were a few moments ago. Whether he’s drawn me nearer by the cup held between us or I pulled him closer, I cannot say. But as soon as I realize it, I flinch and release my grip with a gasp. That makes North recoil too, and the cup goes crashing down onto the stone.
North mutters something that must be a swear word in his land, whirling away from me to fetch one of the towels I’d used to dry myself. I haven’t the heart to tell him, as he begins sopping up the spilled wine, that the material is worth a small fortune and that the wine will stain.
I haven’t the heart, because my own heart is still racing.
North’s muttering to himself still, and I catch only fragments—clumsy as a fledgling—as I stare at him while he cleans up. It isn’t until he’s gotten most of the wine and sees my face that he stops.
“Nimh?”
“I can explain,” I manage.
His brow furrows. “Explain what?”
“You said there was something about me that you could not … I can explain it, North. I think … I believe … your coming here, to this land, was prophesied long ago. You and I did not meet by chance.”
His eyebrows shoot up, though for once he doesn’t seem to be dismissing me altogether. He is willing to wait, and to listen.
I manage a breath with an effort, drawing on all my training at diction and speech.
“I believe the prophecy brought us together. North, this is our destiny.”
SIXTEEN
NORTH
For a moment, the sounds of the party on the other side of the screen—music, distant laughter, the hum of conversation—fade away. I’m caught staring back at Nimh, no ready reply, too riveted by her serious dark eyes and her earnest expression to think.
“Destiny,” I echo, buying myself time. “Like … fate?”
She nods, and while I’m ready to laugh at the obvious joke, there’s no hint of a smile on her face. “Prophecy plays a great role among my people. I believe I was meant to be there that night and see you as you fell.”
My mind flashes to the cut lines on the Skysinger. My crash wasn’t destiny. It was sabotage.
“I–I’m certainly glad you were there,” I respond tentatively. “The thing is … you know I don’t believe in … This whole magic thing in general is … hard to swallow.”
Despite my efforts to keep my expression under control, Nimh’s face shows a flicker of hurt. “And you ask why I did not tell you who I was, out there in the ghostlands. Did I not heal your arm in front of your eyes?”
“You cauterized it with some kind of chemical reaction,” I reply.
“It was healing magic,” she insists, leaning forward, eyes alight. Though she speaks with fervent assurance, there’s a flicker in her gaze—some part of her is enjoying the argument.
“Okay,” I reply. I rise up onto my knees so I can discard my jacket, then reach for the hem of my shirt and draw it up over my head, letting the fabric gather around my arms. “You want to see it? It’s a burn—better than a bleeding gash, but still a burn, Nimh. Caused by a chemical reaction that …” I reach for the clean bandage that replaced my dirty one when I bathed, ready to show her the burned place—and instead, when the fabric falls away, there’s only a pink line there along my bicep, shiny with new skin.
Shock robs me of my indignation. I sink back on my heels, staring down at my arm. After a few moments, I glance up to find Nimh watching me. Her eyebrows rise.
“Some kind of … medicine,” I mutter, “an antibiotic, in the chemicals.”