I gently pry his fingers apart. Sharp points poke my skin. Warm, smooth glass weighs heavy in my hand as I take the object from him. I lift it up. In my open palm is a crystal spix, exactly like the one I’d rescued from Charisma’s collection of Crystal Clear Moments. The inanimate equine sparkles in the firelight.
“So you’re like me?” I ask him. “A genetically engineered freak?”
“I like to think of myself as exceptional.”
I gather a few strands of his hair in my hand. Using the sharp edge of the crystal spix’s horns, I cut his hair. The severed pieces shrivel to ashes while new hair regrows in an instant. I blow the ash from my palm. It floats toward the glowing logs.
“He doesn’t know, does he?” I ask.
“I never would’ve survived if Excelsior knew.”
“How did you keep your gifts a secret from him?” I ask.
“My mother shielded me at first. When I inherited her gift, I was able to do it for myself.”
“What was your mother’s gift?” I ask.
“She could influence others to believe any lie. It made your mother her instant friend. Farling couldn’t lie to Arissa effectively. Which forced my mother to respect yours.”
My fingers close around the crystal spix and I draw it close to my heart. “You lie to me without me knowing, don’t you?”
“Sometimes.”
“How do you make me believe you?”
“I’m stronger than you. I’ve been doing it longer.”
I think about something he said to me. It was at our first dinner at the Palace in Rafe. “You once told me that you weren’t like me—that you weren’t born with the gifts that I was given.”
“It’s only half a lie. I have different gifts than you. I had to see if you knew that I was special,” he says. “I influenced you then to believe I was telling you the truth. If I hadn’t, I ran the risk of you exposing me to everyone in the room. It was a risk I was unwilling to take.”
I feel betrayed. “You knew I was a soothsayer even before I caught Em Nark in his lies.”
“I did. Your mother told my mother you’d have the gift. It was a secret she only shared with me when she made me promise to find you. Arissa had said she would gift it to her strongest daughter. She said it would help her to rule Ethar.”
“Is it fun for you? Lying to me?”
“Sometimes. But, lately you see through them. It’s frustrating. It was so much easier when you didn’t know me.”
“Do I know you, Kyon?” I ask.
“More than anyone ever has.”
“Are you lying to me now?”
“I’ve never loved another like I love you, Kricket.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You know it’s true.”
“How do I know?”
“I’m there—in the future you project into—if there’s danger, I’m there to defend you. I’ve hung my happiness on what we could be. I won’t kill you to keep my secret. That’s not something I’d normally let go. Only one other person knows it.”
“Fulton?” I ask.
“Yes. It’s against the law here for me to exist. If anyone should find out about me, I could be executed. I would have no protection under the law.”
“Tell me what else you can do.”
“I can read things—objects—things someone has held. Objects carry memories.”
“Like my spix?”
“Yes.”
“And you can, what? See these memories?”
“I can walk through them. This spix was in your pocket when I brought you to the island. It’s a curious object. It whispers secrets to me.”
“What kind of secrets?”
“Your secrets,” he murmurs. “It used to belong to Charisma Sandersault. It was given to her when she won a Biequine competition. She shot every target with near perfect accuracy . . . all while mounted on a spix. Her memories of it are clear. Concise. Unguarded. Probably like her. But she gave it to you because you asked her to.”
“Did it share other memories?”
“It did. But the ones of you are murky and shrouded. You’re very guarded.”
“Do you plan to share them with me?” I ask.
“I don’t. No.”
“Why not?”
“They’re memories filled with fear of me. I’d rather make new ones with you.” He lowers his mouth to mine. His lips are coaxing as he kisses me. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”
“I believe you once told me that you were okay with me fearing you as long as I obeyed you.”
“You’ve changed me. I want to be the favorite taste that touches your lips.” His tongue caresses mine; the sharp pleasure of it cuts through me. It steals my