He must have fallen. He must be on his knees.
I can’t leave him like this.
Iris raged again, desperate to break away from Forest’s hold.
“Enough of this!” her brother growled. “It’s too late for him, Iris.”
“I can’t leave him,” she panted. “He’s my husband! I can’t leave him. Forest, let me go. Let me go!”
He wasn’t listening. He refused to release her. It felt like her fingers were about to fracture, but she fought him. She yanked and pulled and she didn’t care if it broke every bone in her hand. She finally slipped away from him.
She was free. The gas blew closer; she lurched toward it, defiant.
“KITT!” she screamed as she ran, her eyes searching the grass.
Where are you?
She thought she saw a shadow moving in the stalks just a few paces away. Hope sang through her until Forest’s hand found her neck, drawing her back to him. His thumb and fingers pressed down hard on her throat. Stars began to flare in her vision.
“Forest,” she wheezed, clawing at his ruthless grip. “Forest, please.”
A cold pang of terror shot through her. It was a fear she had never felt before, and her hands and feet began to go numb.
My brother is about to kill me.
The words reverberated through her. Echoed down her arms and legs as she flailed against him.
The light dimmed. The colors were melting. But she saw Roman rise from the grass. He was only five meters away. He could no longer run; he could hardly walk. Her heart broke when she realized he had crawled through the gold to reach her.
Blood dripped from his chin.
The wind swept the dark hair from his brow.
His eyes smoldered, burning a path to her. She had never seen such a fire within him, and it called to her, stirring her blood.
“Iris,” he said, his hand outstretched.
Four meters. He was almost to her, and she scrounged up the last of her strength.
Her hand was trembling, bruised and numb. But she reached for him, the silver ring on her finger catching the light. The ring that bound her to him. And she thought, I’m so close. Just a little farther …
She was suddenly hauled backward. Forest swore as the wind blew harder against them. The air began to sting her eyes, her lungs. The distance between her and Roman swelled again.
She tried to call his name, but her voice was gone.
She was fading.
The last thing she remembered seeing was the green cloud spin over the field, swallowing Roman Kitt whole.
{42}
All the Things I Never Said
Iris woke with a splitting headache.
Her eyes cracked open; late afternoon light played over her face. Branches swayed in the breeze above her. She watched them for a moment before realizing she was surrounded by trees and the air smelled like evergreen and moss and damp earth.
She had no idea where she was, and her hands reached out, passing over pine needles and leaves. The stained linen of her jumpsuit.
“Kitt?” she rasped. It hurt to speak, and she tried to swallow the splinter in her throat. “Attie?”
She heard someone shifting nearby. They came into her field of vision, hovering over her.
She blinked, recognizing the wavy chestnut brown hair, the wide-set hazel eyes, the dusting of freckles. They were so much like her own features. They could have been twins.
“Forest,” she whispered, and he reached for her hand, gently helping her sit forward. “Where are we?”
Her brother was silent, as if he didn’t know what to say. But then he brought a canteen to her mouth. “Drink, Iris.”
She took a few sips. As the water washed through her, she began to remember. She remembered mistaking her brother for Roman and how he had been determined to drag her away from town.
“Kitt,” she said, pushing the canteen aside. She was worried, hungry for answers. “Where is he? Where’s my husband?”
Forest glanced away. “I don’t know, Iris.”
It took everything within her to stay calm, stay calm as she stated through her teeth, “You saw him in the market. He was shouting for me then, wasn’t he?”
“Yes.” Forest’s tone was unapologetic. He held her eyes, his face emotionless.
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were, Forest? Why didn’t you let Kitt join us?”
“It was too much of a liability, Iris. My only plan was to get you out of there safely.”
She began to rise. Her legs were shaky.
“Sit down, Little Flower. You need to rest.”
“Don’t call me that!” she snarled, reaching out to balance herself on the nearest pine. She blinked and studied her surroundings. The woods stretched on and on, and the light looked older, richer. It must be late afternoon. She took a step toward the west.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Forest asked, standing.
“I’m going back to the field to find Kitt.”
“No you’re not. Iris, stop this!” He reached out to grasp her arm and Iris jerked away.
“Don’t touch me.” She leveled him with a glare.
Forest let his hand drop. “You can’t go back there, sister.”
“And I can’t abandon him. He could still be in the field.”
“Chances are, he’s not. Listen to me, Iris. Dacre will have stormed into Avalon Bluff by now. If he catches sight of us, he’ll take us as prisoners. Are you listening to me?”
She was walking toward the west. Her heart was pounding, aching with possibilities, when she tripped over something soft. She paused, glancing down at it. Two dash-packs. The two that Marisol had been missing.
So it had been him. Her brother had tromped through the garden and trespassed into the B and B, stealing two of the bags and Roman’s jumpsuit.
She felt betrayed. She felt so angry she wanted to strike her fists against him. She wanted to scream at him.
He appeared before her, holding his hands up in surrender.
“All right, I’ll make a deal with you,” he began. “I’ll take you back to the field to look for Kitt. But we can’t go beyond it; we can’t stray into the town. It’s too dangerous. And after we search the field, you will agree to let me take you somewhere safe. You’ll follow me home.”
Iris was silent, but her mind was reeling.
“Do you agree to my terms, Iris?” Forest prompted.
She nodded. She had every faith Roman was still in the field, waiting for her to come to him. “Yes. Take me there. Now.”
* * *
They reached the field by evening. Forest had been right; Dacre’s forces now ruled Avalon Bluff. Iris crouched in the grass, staring at the town. Fires were lit and music was pouring like a stream. Smoke still rose from the ashes, but Dacre was celebrating. His white flag with the red eithral eye was raised, flapping in the wind.
The gas was long gone by now. As if it had never been.
“We’ll have to crawl through the grass,” Forest said, his words clipped with tension. “It looks like Dacre isn’t expecting any retaliation from Enva’s forces. I don’t see any sentries, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t stationed as snipers. So move very slowly, and stay down. Do you hear me?”
She nodded. She didn’t spare her brother a glance. She was too focused on the sway of the grass as the wind raked over it. On the place she believed Roman to be.