IMOGEN
Nonsense. All of it.
Vasterias, this plan, everything that had happened.
I wasn’t going to look back.
Our boat flew across the water, already a half mile from shore. The small vessel bounced over the waves, Jack steering, Finn lying in the bottom of the boat, Beckett near the front, me in the back.
Behind us, that bloody island grew smaller and smaller. Everything I’d known for the last two months dissolved in the gray humidity of the morning.
And good riddance.
I crossed my arms and clenched my teeth together. I would not look back at that island again.
Yes, you heard me. Good riddance.
I felt tears forming and held my eyes open in the wind so they would dry before anyone saw.
Why couldn’t I push it all away? Why couldn’t I push him away?
Caesar.
He was supposed to be in this boat with us. And he’d died back there on that island, with that modwrog, in that cell.
Caesar had loved Jack like a brother.
Caesar had loved me, too.
Someone had actually loved me. I don’t know how, or why. But he did, and he told me so, and now he was gone.
I knew it probably hurt Jack to think about it, but he didn’t show it, so I wasn’t going to show it either.
I buried that pain deep, deep inside me. No one would find it. No one would ever see it on the outside.
I turned my attention to Finn’s unconscious body and occupied myself with making sure the wrap around his arm held tight.
This would help me stop feeling all the pain. It would distract me from the terrifying feelings stirring deep inside. Feelings of wrath and revenge didn’t scare me—those were my constant companions. But pain? Pain is not controllable.
My hand rested on Finn’s arm. Distraction.
This boy Finn would not die, not if I had anything to say about it. I could focus on that. Just nothing, nothing else.