CHAPTER 48

“What is he doing here?” Tovi asked, eyeing Eryx.

Silas took a long time, apparently trying to decide how much Tovi should know. Then he said, “Eryx followed us from the palace to the edge of the city. He saw everything. He saw the swords go through me, he saw the barrier go up, and he saw you collapse on the other side. He ran at the barrier at full speed, scooped you up, and brought you all the way here. The guards were irate. Knowing that Eryx was a Master, they didn’t try to stop him. They probably thought that he was trying to stop you and that he would be caught by the barrier.”

“Wait, Eryx brought me here? I thought you did.”

“I would have,” Silas said. “He just beat me to it. And Hesper helped.” Tovi looked out the window again. She didn’t know what to make of that man.

Tovi sat back against her pillows. Changing the subject, she asked, “Why does Ismene see you as an old man?”

“How old am I to you?”

“My age. You grew up with me.”

“And, how old is Ismene?”

“Ancient. Do we each see you as our own age?”

“Yes, but it’s more accurate to say that the only way you are able to understand me is through your own experiences. When you are a child, with simple wants and simple needs, you see me as a child. A friend and playmate. As you grow up, you get more complicated. Because you get more complicated, your understanding of me gets more complicated, too. But, there’s more to my appearance than that. Do you remember how Xanthe saw me in the mural?”

“Yes. Brown eyes, brown hair.”

“Here’s a hint: When Xanthe was born, her eyes and hair were brown. And someday, when she is loyal to me, they will return to that color.”

Tovi thought long and hard about this.

“Okay, let me give you some more clues. To Tali, whose deep-down allegiance has always been to me, even when he didn’t fully understand, I have blue hair and a purple star in my brown eyes.”

“Seriously? But how does it work? Does everyone see you differently?”

“Yes. When you were born, you were completely unique. You might have the same color eyes as someone, or a similar look to your hair. But, no one out there is exactly like you. I know that you and Xanthe theorized about how your colors work, and you were mostly right. When your deepest loyalties shift to someone other than me, you take on their colors. Jairus is still loyal to his sister, so he looks like her. In turn, Xanthe’s allegiance is to Jairus, and she looks like him. That’s how it works most of the time. But with me, it’s different. You see, when I sit in my studio and paint people into existence, I give them a piece of me. I know this will be hard to understand, but when you are in your true, intended colors, you reflect that part of me that I gave only to you. This shows up in your strengths, your passions, and even in how you look. It’s when you give your heart away to someone else that you lose that resemblance.”

“And I was always most loyal to my brother.”

“Yes.”

“And, that means Eryx was loyal to me?”

“For the past few months, yes.”

“But I want my allegiance to be to you. It took me a long time, but I’m sure of it now. When will my colors change to show that?”

“Take a look,” he said, handing her a small hand mirror from the top of her night stand.

She was astonished by what she saw. The thick make-up had been washed away, and astonishingly blue eyes blinked back at her. “When did it happen?” she asked in awe, combing her fingers through her light brown hair with thick golden streaks.

“When you were in the throne room with Damien.”

“Does Eryx have his true colors now, or does he have my new ones?”

Silas looked at Eryx as he spoke. “He still has yours. Be kind to him, Tovi. He doesn’t understand his own feelings or how to handle them. I hope he chooses to stay in Adia, and if he does, he will need some space. His pride is very wounded by his changing colors, which he sees as a sign of weakness. Be his friend if he allows you close enough. Otherwise, give him room to heal.”

Now that Silas was explaining everything to her, Tovi was hungry for every last bit of knowledge. “What about all the pale-skinned black-haired people on the mountain? Is it because they love Damien the most?”

“Sometimes. But those aren’t his real colors. Damien loves himself more than anything or anyone. He has lost his coloring because he has no one to reflect, not me or anyone else. So, when you see someone with those murky black eyes and matching hair with sickly white skin, they either love themselves most of all, or they are loyal to someone else who feels that way.”

“Okay, I have another question,” she said. “Why did you let Damien break my hand and cut into it? Couldn’t you have stopped him?”

“There was a lot going on right at that moment, things that I’m not going to share with you right now.”

“You were too busy with something else? You just decided not to help me?” she spat, getting back some of her old surliness.

“Tovi, I am not a one-thing-at-a-time type of guy. I’m always with you, whether you see me or not. What I meant was there were many dynamics right there on that patio. I always do what is best for you, even when that means I have to allow you to experience something painful.”

“You were trying to teach me some sort of lesson?”

Appalled, he shook his head. “No, that’s not how it works. I don’t sacrifice you to wicked lessons. I know countless creative ways to teach you, ways that don’t bring you harm. Like I said, there is a lot I’m choosing not to tell you, and I want you to trust me that keeping those things from you is truly best. But hear me say this: I knew that if I intervened in that room, it would have sent Damien into a frenzy. It would have set certain things in motion, and it just wasn’t time yet. It would have been much harder to get you to safety. And, it would have closed the opportunity to cast that barrier exactly where I did, which is exactly where it needs to be.”

They sat silent for a while as Tovi tried to decide which question to ask next. Finally, she went for the one that had been on her mind all morning, but she had been too scared to ask. “Silas,” she said tentatively. “The ugly marks on my back . . . how do I get rid of them?”

“They are already gone.”

She shook her head. “No, I can feel them. They still burn a little.”

Silas reached for her hand and held it between both of his. “Tovi, listen to me. They are gone. Remember how I told you Damien uses tricks to keep you from me? This is one of them. Your marks are not there anymore. They have not disappeared from the world, but they left you the same moment you decided to leave that prison with me. If we had a big enough mirror in here, I would show you. But for now, you’ll have to trust me until you’re a little stronger and can get a good look for yourself. Your back burns because Damien likes to remind you of your marks. He wants you to think that you carry them with you.”

“Where did they go?”

Silas released her hand and turned his back to her. He reached over his shoulder to grasp his tunic and tugged it up as far as it would go. Water welled in Tovi’s eyes as she looked at the circle of black designs imprinted deep in his skin. It didn’t look like hers or anyone’s that she had seen. Instead of the crisp, detailed pictures that had engraved so many backs, this looked like layers and layers of designs, all garbled together to make one big mess. If she didn’t know what she was looking at—this pattern of overlapping snakes, diamonds, crowns, and so on—she would have thought it was just a ring of jagged lines, like a wreath made of bramble or a crown made of thorns.

“Silas . . . ” she said, bringing her hand to her mouth in horror. “I’m so sorry . . . Does it hurt?”

He let go of the tunic and turned back to her. “Yes, and you are worth it.”