their happiness.” My tone came out hotter than I would have expected. I couldn’t help but think about what I’d seen in Silas’s memories. The training that Keen put them through at the academy had been far better than what Silas experienced at the orphanage, but it had still been brutal, focused on turning powerful children into tools for the rebellion. “I thought you only cared about the mission.”
And Silas had deserved better.
“Mission first,” she said. Wow, my least-favorite phrase in the universe continued to haunt me. Then she said, “But happiness is important too. Later.”
“He hasn’t had time to be happy.” We’d been fighting for the fate of the world for a year.
We all needed a vacation, come to think about it.
But when I’d said that Silas never had time to be happy, then I wondered if I was lying. Because I remembered all the times he’d smiled or laughed, not just when he and I were close, but also when Penn was wisecracking or Jensen delivered some joke in his deadpan voice or we were all play-fighting with each other. That handsome face with his sharp cheekbones, swelling even more dramatically when he grinned, his tousled blond hair over those green eyes… the memory of his face made my heart lurch.
I thought maybe he’d been happy sometimes. With us. With me.
“He always worried about you all,” I said. “He wanted to come back and rescue you from the beginning, but he thought you’d be disappointed…”
“I would have,” she said, even though that would have saved her life. “Your mission is too important, Maddie. And his mission is to protect you.”
I scoffed, shifting uncomfortably; the feeling of fabric against my body hurt, and I was still standing by her bedside despite the invitation to sit. “Maybe. But we protect each other.”
I’d done what it took to keep Silas from journeying all the way to Elegiah just to watch a friend die.
“Silas makes me happy,” I said softly, because it was true. “And that seems to make him happy.”
“If only he could finish his mission and let himself be happy,” she said. “Instead of being incredible.”
I tilted his head to one side. “And who made him… incredible?”
We both knew what incredible really meant.
Reckless. Confident. Fierce. Focused to a fault.
And as ever changing as a chameleon.
And yet… I still felt like I knew the real Silas.
“I have regrets,” she said, and then as if that were the end of the conversation, she fell back into the pillows.
Now Silas didn’t ever let himself have regrets.
“Indulge an old woman and tell her about the Fae world,” she said.
I tried, but I couldn’t help being distracted by Sebastian and Isabelle arguing. She called him a traitor; he returned that she was the traitor, using her power to set up shop instead of helping all the Rebels.
“How?” she demanded. “If there’s a way for us to escape without damning everyone, Seb, you have to know I’m willing. But I won’t ever be responsible for all that death ever again.”
“You have so much power!” he retorted. “You’re the only one who can defeat the runes! And you’re wasting it on mushrooms!”
Genuine horror washed over Isabelle’s face. She started to slap him, but Sebastian grabbed her wrist, stopping her. “It’s not a waste!” she cried.
The two of them glowered at each other.
“Have you even used all your abilities to talk to Frederick?” Sebastian growled.
“He’s a far worse traitor than you are.”
“He’s trying to help us! You know Fred.’
“What if he’s not?” she demanded, and her voice was haughty, but her eyes made me think of someone who was afraid.
“You keep calling everyone a traitor,” he said, his voice soft and dangerous. “But how can you be loyal to anyone when you seem so determined to convince yourself we’re all terrible?”
Her chin rose. “I’m loyal to Keen.”
Keen scoffed. “Please.”
Isabelle turned to face her, lips parting. “I am!”
“I know you are, but what’s the use?” Keen asked. “I’m going to die here.”
She sounded calm, resolute.
Isabelle started to protest, but Keen cut her off. “Please. I don’t care. As long as the rebellion—and with it, the Greyworld—doesn’t die with me.”
“It won’t,” Isabelle promised. She gave Sebastian a look before pulling her wrist back. He shrugged; apparently she wasn’t going to apologize for trying to slap him.
“Then you need to make up with your friends,” Keen said. “You’re all on the same side, no matter how much it feels you’re on different ones. You always will be.”
Her words seemed to hang