28

THEY BOTH STILL NEEDED HIM.

Jamie looked at Lottie in the center of the circle. Her hair was a tangled mess, hanging down her back from the heated room, and her left hand clasped her chest.

“She ran away,” Lottie whispered.

From the moment he’d seen his princess and her Portman kiss in the chocolate factory, he’d felt loneliness lingering within him. Whatever they shared he felt locked out of it, isolated from the strange bright magic Lottie held. They had each other; they didn’t need him.

“I need to go after her,” Lottie said, her eyes focused on Sayuri, not Haru.

“Yes, of course.” Sayuri gestured to the door.

It was cooler outside the dojo, and the heat of the day hadn’t had time to grow yet, the morning giving the grounds a dusty topaz coloring. Footprints in the dirt path and a knocked-over stack of boxes suggested Ellie had run up the steps toward the forest.

Lottie’s eyes were glued on the horizon. “This is very bad, Jamie.”

“I don’t think she’s gone far.”

“How can you know?”

“We can find her. It’s simple tracking, but it would be best if I came with you. It’s likely she went up the path into the forest and—”

Lottie shook her head, her cheeks flushed. “I’m not going; you need to go after her.”

Jamie faltered. “I very much doubt I’ll be of any help. You’re the one who’s good at—”

A strange sound pierced the air, shocking him enough to stop him talking, and it took him a minute to realize it had come from Lottie. It was halfway between a growl and an exasperated groan, and it caught him completely off guard.

“This is between you two! How are we ever supposed to take on Leviathan when you two can’t even look at each other?” Her hands curled into fists. “You barely speak anymore. Don’t you see? She blames herself for everything. You both do, and you’re both so . . . so . . . STUPID!” She was hardly able to look him in the eye, and he could have laughed if not for how much she was shaking. “You’ve snapped the rope in two, and it’s your responsibility to put it back together. We can’t let the vampire cat get her!” Jamie had absolutely no clue what she was talking about. “I can’t be the only one holding us up!”

Tears brimmed in her eyes, and he felt his hands awkward at his side, no idea what to do.

“You’re our Partizan,” she said, finally gaining control. “We need you.”

Her tears spilled over, and Jamie felt the breath build up in his chest.

Our Partizan, us, we.

The breath within him came out in one great sigh, dizzyingly relieved.

“Fine.”

“Really?” Lottie’s whole face lit up, an expression so shining and full of hope that it was like staring at the sun. He had to look away.

“Yes, but I can’t promise I’ll be of any help.” He wasn’t entirely sure why he agreed to it, maybe because it meant being useful, or because it made him feel responsible. Or maybe, possibly, it was because he knew Lottie was right.

It wasn’t hard to find Ellie.

The only problem was that Jamie had no idea what he was supposed to do when he caught up with her. Lingering on the edge of the treeline, where the morning light couldn’t penetrate, he conjured up images of when he’d followed Lottie into the Rose Wood. It had been the middle of winter and freezing, and he’d found her curled up under a giant oak tree. It had been so easy then, scarily so. He knew exactly what she required, and she’d understood so completely that he hadn’t needed to say anything at all.

The idea of him ever doing that now seemed unfathomable, so distant from where they were today, and yet hadn’t Lottie come to him? Out in the storm?

It’s just you. You’re the one causing all the problems. You and your princess are going to suck all the good out of the little pumpkin.

Pushing the voice away, Jamie stepped through the shadows of the forest.

The moment his feet touched the mossy ground a floating silence like a deep sleep surrounded him. All the sounds and smells of the school beyond filtered away, leaving him alone in the earthy grove of moss and bamboo. Strange foreign birds whistled in the trees, accompanied by a constant buzz of insects.

A sharp howl broke him from his thoughts. Ellie!

Every Partizan instinct came over him, and he took off at lightning speed farther into the woods. Feet floating above the roots and moss, he effortlessly avoided every obstacle, darting through the trees. “Ellie! Hold on!”

He could see movement in the dappled light of a clearing. And in the midst of it was Ellie, barefoot and dirty and . . . laughing.

Had his fever returned?

In front of him was a giant bamboo tree, so thick it seemed like the arm of a god reaching up out of the ground. But that was not the strangest thing. Propped up against the trunk was his princess . . . and she was surrounded by . . . cats.

“Jamie!” She looked up, and all the cats turned to him, shocked to see him there. They were all different shapes and sizes: a huge fat ginger cat with a grumpy face, a tiny pure white kitten, a set of mottled gray skinny things and a mishmash of tabbies. All of them were rubbing their heads against Ellie, pawing and scratching at her playfully. Off to the side, away from the others and licking its paw, was the biggest black cat Jamie had ever seen, fur so dark it looked like it was made of the night sky, with eyes the piercing yellow of stars.

“Silvervine,” Jamie said, unable to stop a surprised laugh as he gazed around. “This whole area is covered in silvervine. Cats love it.”

The huge black cat sauntered over to him, winding between his legs and pushing him toward Ellie and the tree, which he reluctantly allowed. His princess continued to stare up at him, anger and regret burning on her face.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was so full of rage that one of the tabby cats hissed. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating your perfect performance?”

“I’m your Partizan, Ellie.” He began walking around to the other side of the bamboo tree, the cat trailing his heels. They both slid down to the flower-covered grass. “It’s never going to be a fair fight.”

“Saskia let Ani get some hits in,” Ellie retorted. With the bamboo tree between them, their backs were mirrored but not touching, both of them looking out into opposite sides of the forest.

It had been so long since they’d really spoken to each other.

“Would you have wanted me to do that?”

She didn’t reply, but they both knew the answer was no. They sat with only the noise of the leaves and the cats around them, the eerie and evocative calm taking over. The cats settled comfortably into happy purring marshmallows, wriggling for attention.

“You don’t even like me, Jamie,” Ellie muttered, the words so quiet they almost got lost in the woods. “Why do you even want to protect me? I’m not worth it.”

Halfway through stroking the black cat, Jamie froze. He was ashamed. Lottie was right; in his obsession with not becoming obsolete, he’d hurt her in another way.

“Ellie, I do like you. The way I act, it’s all—”

“You hate me, Jamie. You hate me so much you barely even speak to me, and yet you’re always putting yourself in danger for me. I can’t take that responsibility—I hate it!” Her words echoed around them, causing a flock of birds to take flight. “I’m the stupid spoiled princess who’s reckless and good for nothing and bad at everything. It’s all my fault, always.”

Jamie couldn’t believe what she was saying. How could she not realize that the whole reason he’d become distant was because of how much she was growing—how clear it was that she would eventually not need him or Lottie anymore?

“How can you say that? You’ve come so far since starting at Rosewood.”

“No, you don’t understand, I . . . I’m scared all the time. I can’t get anything right, and just”—she went quiet again, a tired acceptance—“no matter what I do, Jamie, you’re always going to be better than me, and I’m always going to be the problem.” He could hear her take in a long breath before she let out the next words. “I’m holding you all back.”

Jamie couldn’t respond, the shame in his chest blooming through his body. For so long he’d prided himself on putting Ellie first, on not getting distracted by Lottie or anyone else, but when Ellie had actually started to flourish he had made her feel like a failure.

You’re the worst Partizan ever. He couldn’t silence the angry voice in his head, too overcome with his own inadequate self.

“It’s stupid,” Ellie continued, before he had a chance to speak. “You should be king. You and Lottie should get married and the two of you should rule Maradova together. That would be better for everyone.”

It was an attempt at a joke, he knew that, but her words shocked him. All his training, all his hard work, was to make sure that one day Ellie would take her rightful place on the throne. Not once in his whole life had he ever considered himself worthy to take on that role, and yet imagining it now made his mouth water, halfway between hunger and a convulsing need to be sick. It was nauseating, not because he hated it but because part of him—an awful, disgusting part of him—realized he liked the image.

King of Maradova, with Lottie as the real queen.

Thinking of her brought up her image, not the fake queen image, but the real Lottie, who had carried him when he was sick, who had helped Ellie be a better person, who had stared at him with furious resolve, demanding that he and Ellie must reconcile. How could he have gone all this time without realizing Ellie felt the same way he did?

“It’s true—you are very annoying.” He leaned back against the tree, and he felt Ellie tense behind him. “You’re brash and outspoken, not to mention constantly getting yourself into trouble.”

Ellie stayed silent, the cats looking up at her curiously.

“And I wish I was as brave as you.” Jamie sagged, and he could feel the earth shift as he said it, softening. “But I can never let you know that or it’ll go straight to your head.”

“Jamie, I’m not—”

Cutting her off with a long groan, he stroked under the big cat’s chin, letting it rub its face against his arm.

“Lottie was right,” he said. “You need to stop blaming yourself. You need to try, for her sake, even if you don’t believe it yet.”

“And what about you?”

“I’m not sure yet,” he admitted.

He reached out for her hands, so small compared to his. He knew she was crying. “I have to confess something.” He squeezed the hot flesh of her hand, the sensation transporting him back to when they were children.

“I saw you, Lottie and you, in the factory.” Ellie tensed, and even though she didn’t speak a word he knew they were both there, back in that sugar-dusted world, so sweet that it hurt his teeth. They were both thinking of the kiss.

“I think we all need to start being more honest with each other.” As soon as he said this, the cats stood up, possibly hearing a distant call. They vanished into the forest, leaving the princess and her Partizan alone.

He didn’t need to say any more. He knew Ellie understood what he was still unable to say, what he’d had to admit to himself after Lottie found him in the storm. Lottie was important to him, and not just because she was Ellie’s Portman, not because he was her Partizan. Like the sun itself, she was an unstoppable force casting light on everything she touched. He wanted to be in that light, to feel her warmth and protect it. He just wasn’t sure if anyone was worthy of it.

“Lottie’s waiting for you,” he whispered.

“No,” Ellie replied. “She’s waiting for us.”