I nod. We both breathe raggedly, watching each other.
“Don’t let go,” he says, the words more prayer than command.
“I won’t.”
His eyes are full of some unrecognizable thing—not the usual anger he carries, but something fragile. Delicate.
Then he guides my head onto his shoulder, and I wrap myself around him as tightly as possible. I wonder if he can feel my heartbeat through my chest, if he can sense that this is the biggest adventure I’ve ever been on.
“Take a deep breath,” he says, and I do.
Then we’re sucked into a vortex of water, and the only thing I can think about is not drowning. The current brings us into its center, swirling us around and around as if we’re leaves in the wind. I feel Wolfe’s arms tighten around my waist, holding me firmly against him.
We’re pulled away from the western shore, but I can’t tell what direction we’re going. Water churns all around us, rolling over my head and into my nose, forcing me onto my side and back up again.
I gasp for air and swallow water instead, choking. My impulse is to push away from Wolfe, to kick my legs and thrash my arms and get out of the hungry current. But he is steady, holding me close, letting the current carry us. I feel myself shaking in his arms, feel when his hand drifts to the back of my head.
Another wave swallows us, and all I can hear is the churn of the water. It whips us around, and we tumble through the sea, clinging to each other.
Then something changes. The current slows, pulling us along at a rate that doesn’t make me fear for my life. We surface, and Wolfe’s rough voice reaches me, his wet lips brushing against my ear. “Breathe,” he says.
I do as I’m told, drinking in the briny sea air, filling my lungs with it. But I don’t dare let go, keeping my arms and legs wrapped firmly around him, knowing with absolute certainly that I feel safe here.
That I am safe here.
The water pulls us along, and my ragged breaths slow down. Deepen. I try to forge it into my memory, the way it feels to be carried by the sea, the way it feels to be wrapped around this mystifying boy in the waters I love so much.
“Almost there,” he says, and I feel him start to kick. He moves as if I’m not even here, light in the water even though I’m weighing him down. It isn’t until his feet touch the ground that I slowly unwrap myself from him.
My back is to the shore, and I watch in amazement as the current swirls away from us. The water is smooth and calm again, and I feel Wolfe graze my hand.
“Ready?” he asks.
I’m suddenly afraid of what I’ll see when I turn around. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, then slowly rotate in the water.
I think about my parents and Ivy and the Eldons asleep in their beds, think of all they’ve given up and continue to give up to secure our place in the world. I think about how carefully constructed it is, how even one misstep could obliterate the whole thing.
I think about the moonflower and the lie and how grand a deceit it is.
I find Wolfe’s hand beneath the water, lacing my fingers through his.
Then I take a deep breath and open my eyes.
twenty-two
I see nothing but forest, dense trees stretching almost all the way to the beach, same as the rest of the western coast. I look to Wolfe, confused.
“Our home is spelled,” he says. “Only those who have been invited to see it are able. To everyone else, it looks like a continuation of the woods.” He pauses, and his fingers tighten around mine, the only indication he’s nervous. “Let her see,” he whispers, such a simple sentence that couldn’t possibly lift such a powerful spell.
But it does. I blink several times and gasp.
The trees slowly fade, revealing a large brick manor sitting atop a long sloping lawn. There is just enough moonlight to see a silhouette of a steep roofline and multiple spires reaching toward the sky, looming over us. Tall trees surround the manor on both sides, shrouding it in darkness.
“Where are we?” I ask, staring in wonder at the size of the house, completely awed that it has been here, hidden, all these years.
“We’re about three miles south of where you do the rush, on the southwestern shore of the island. You were practically in our backyard the night I found you harvesting.”
“I had no idea,” I whisper, more to myself than Wolfe.
“Yeah, that’s kind of the point.”
Wolfe leads me out of the water and onto the rocky beach. Three stone steps put us on the lawn, and we follow the path that leads to the main house. “Dry,” he whispers, our clothes drying in an instant.