“But we do. Vita saw it. It’s the only way.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. Whatever Vita had seen must have been terrifying for her to hold back telling us everything.
“Maybe,” I conceded slowly. “But we need a proper plan. I’m not going tearing off into the jungle again. It would be suicide.”
“We’ll make a plan,” Phoenix reassured me. “We won’t do anything stupid. But I’m sick of waiting around in this house. I’m fine to have a few more sessions on how to access our visions, but after that, we need to take action. We’ll get home somehow, Serena, I promise you that.”
I smiled at my brother, knowing he was trying to make me feel better. He was always so determined, like he could bend the whole world to his will. He was a bit like Jovi in that respect—both totally optimistic that they could fight and overcome whatever obstacles were thrown our way. It didn’t matter that I didn’t believe him, and I wasn’t even sure if he entirely believed himself.
“Okay, I’m going to read. Speak to Draven about the tree, okay?”
Phoenix nodded, looking out of the window.
“Don’t worry, I will.”
Aida
After Vita went off to lie down, my brother left me dozing in the grass—after telling me about a million times not to go anywhere near the edge of the boundary.
Yeah, right.
Like I’d do that by myself in a million years. I wasn’t stupid. I knew what lay in wait for us outside of the house’s protection, perhaps better than he did. I was perfectly content lying in the sunshine now that it was past its midday blaze. Plus, thanks to the Druid’s unhealthy obsession with fire, the house managed to get hotter than it did out here. I’d moved over to the shade of a tree so my skin didn’t burn and peel, wishing I had my phone to listen to music—or a book, a magazine, or anything to take my mind off the visions. The house was full of books, but I didn’t figure they’d have anything that would hold my interest, even if I did manage to find something in English. Sadly, it looked like it would be just me and my whirring head, trying to battle off the feeling of the damp tunnels, the cries of that tortured Druid and the downcast, disappointed face of the incubus. And the Destroyer. I wouldn’t be forgetting those black eyes in a hurry, nor its snarling, hissing voice.
I had just managed to doze off when I heard the familiar sound of wings flapping overhead. I opened my eyes, shielding them from the sun with my hand, and squinted at Field, watching him land softly in the grass next to me.
“Hey,” he said, greeting me.
There was a lot running through my mind, so it was a testament to the effect Field had on me that all my thoughts switched entirely to him. I sat up quickly, feeling awkward.
“Hey,” I replied, as casually as I could.
“Mind if I sit?” he asked.
Unable to trust myself to talk, I shifted over so that we could share the shade. Never in my life had Field asked to sit with me—not once. It wasn’t that I was bitter about it or anything, but the request took me by surprise. He sat down, close enough that I could smell his skin—a mixture of smoke from the fires that roared in the house, and the fresh smell of outdoors. He kept his aquamarine eyes on the house, and I was grateful that I didn’t have to meet his gaze. I always felt with Field that if he looked close enough, all my feelings would be laid bare for him to see.
“What’s up?” I asked, looking at the ground.
“I wanted to apologize for the snake thing earlier,” he replied, his voice going down a notch. “I know that the Destroyers are nothing like that—I shouldn’t have made light of it. Sorry.”
“What?” I replied, genuinely aghast. “I really wasn’t offended—it was just a joke. I’d forgotten that had even happened.”
“Yeah, it was a long time ago,” he replied. When I glanced up at him, I could see that his hand was resting on the back of his neck, a sign that he felt awkward. I had actually been referring to the joke, not the original event with the snake, which, come to think of it, I was kind of amazed that he could remember something so irrelevant that far back.
“You have a good memory,” I replied, clearing my throat.
“Yeah.”
He sighed a moment later. “Maura panicked as well. She made me check under the bed and in all the wardrobes. You weren’t alone.”
Of course he remembered because of Maura—idiot.
“Right,” I replied, suddenly wishing for the conversation to end. I wasn’t sure if he was bringing up Maura because he wanted to talk about it—but why would he speak to me anyway? I remembered that no one was supposed to know they had broken up. Serena had told me that she’d overheard the conversation. It would be inappropriate and downright weird for me to say anything.