The Sharpest Blade
Page 2

As I’m reaching for the mouse, goose bumps break out across my skin. This is the only warning I ever get when a fae fissures into this world, so I stiffen, waiting for a flash of light. Several seconds tick by without anyone appearing in the library. I frown. Then I hear the soft rumble of the air-conditioning unit.
“Are you going somewhere?” Judy asks as she pulls on her thin white sweater. She’s looking over the brim of her bifocals at me, and I realize my hands are braced on the edge of the desk like I’m about to rise.
I clear my throat, then say, “I’m going to take a quick restroom break.”
“Your regular break is in five minutes,” she says. “You can wait.”
If I really had to go, I’d get up anyway, but since I don’t, I bite my tongue and sink into my chair. I really hate working with Judy, but hey, at least I have a job. And at least she’s my biggest problem at the moment. It could be so much worse.
As if to confirm that last thought, my chest tightens as a new emotion surges over Kyol. It’s not quite fear. He isn’t hurt, and he’s not fissuring in and out of a fight, but there’s definitely some kind of tension running through his body. Maybe I was wrong about him being somewhere unsafe. He could just be sparring with someone or—
Kyol’s pain hits me. It’s so potent and solid, my chair flies back when I leap up. I try to build a wall between my emotions and his, but I’m disoriented—too off-balance to even stay on my feet—and he’s too hurt to shelter me from what he’s feeling. I stagger into an empty book cart, knocking it over and falling to the ground.
Someone hurts him again. It feels like someone’s just punched me in the chest.
My vision blurs. I blink to clear it, then focus on the industrial-grade carpet beneath me, staring at the specks of white scattered through the blue pattern. Instead of blocking out what Kyol’s feeling, I project what I’m feeling: the cool touch of the air-conditioned air and the solid, steady ground beneath my hands and knees. I don’t think it helps. He’s still hurting, and I’m a whole fucking world away from him.
“McKenzie?” Judy asks, standing over me.
I look up. Her face is blurry, but she sounds genuinely concerned.
“I’m okay.” I force out the lie. I am not okay. I can barely think. If I’m affected this much by what’s happening to Kyol, then he must be . . .
No, he can’t die. I won’t let him.
Kyol! I mentally scream. I’ve shouted his name in my head before, and even though he can’t hear it, he can feel it. He’s always sent a wave of reassurance in return, but there’s no reassurance now. He’s badly injured.
Another surge of pain washes through me. I squeeze my eyes shut as I reach up for the phone. My hand knocks the whole thing off the desk. I grab the receiver anyway, manage to hit “9” to dial out, but who do I call? Everyone who can help is in the Realm. How the hell am I going to get there?
After slamming the receiver down on its base, I look up. Kynlee and her two friends have shot to their feet and are staring at me.
The whole library is staring at me.
I don’t have time to worry about it. I have to help Kyol, and I’m already on my feet and moving toward the tor’um’s table.
Kynlee’s eyes widen as I stride toward her, but she doesn’t move until I reach out to grab her arm. I manage to catch her gloved wrist.
“Hey!” the sandy-haired boy standing next to her says.
“I need to get to the Realm,” I say. Kynlee’s dark gray eyes widen even farther.
“What?” she squeaks.
“There has to be someone you can call,” I say, taking my cell phone out of my pocket and shoving it into her hand. “Someone who can fissure.”
“You can see . . .” She fades off, obviously figuring out that, yes, I can see the pale lightning on her skin.
“Call someone,” I order, shaking her arm. She won’t take my phone. I hear Judy calling my name, but her voice sounds as distant as the voices of all the other patrons murmuring in the background. I don’t care that I’m acting like a freak; all I care about is getting to Kyol.
“I don’t know anyone—”
“You have to!” I’m trying not to panic, but Kyol’s fighting for his life right now. If she doesn’t know a fae who can fissure me to the Realm, I won’t be able to get to him in time to save his life.
I might not be able to save him anyway.
“You have to know someone,” I say again, desperation leaking into my voice.
The guy standing to Kynlee’s left—her boyfriend, maybe?—steps forward.
“I think you need to go,” he says. There’s a little too much uncertainty in his voice for me to really pay attention to him, probably because I’m a good decade older than he is. He’s just a kid. So is Kynlee, I’m pretty sure. I shouldn’t have a death grip on her wrist. I shouldn’t even consider dragging her outside with me and—
“Okay,” she says softly.
“Then call them now.”
“No, I mean”—she glances at the guy—“I can do it. I can take you there.”
My grip tightens on my phone. “But you’re—”
“I know what I am,” she interrupts. “But I can do it. Well, I can do it if you, uh, have an anchor. I’ve never been there before. Oh, and I don’t know where a . . .” She looks me up and down. “Well, you’re . . . you and I can’t just, you know.”
I’m human. She can’t just fissure me to the Realm. She has to take me through a gate.
Beside her, her maybe-boyfriend frowns, understandably confused. “Kynlee?”
“It’s fine,” she says, turning to him with a forced smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
She grabs her backpack.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
I don’t hear her response to that. Tears pool at the corner of my eyes when agony surges through the life-bond. All traces of reason vanish from my mind. The only thing that matters is getting to Kyol.
Without any thought to the consequences, I pull Kynlee toward the exit.
• • •
TEN minutes later, when I’m pulling over on a deserted stretch of highway, I’m still not thinking of the consequences. I reach across the car to open the glove box and grab the small, draw-stringed bag of anchor-stones I have stashed there. I overturn it on top of the dash, then shift through the stones. They’re all opaque, almost like quartz, but they have different tints and weights. I find one that has a hint of red on one jagged edge. Lena gave me it before I left the Realm. It will take us to a safe house in the Outer City of Corrist, the Realm’s capital. After that . . .
God, I don’t know what happens after that. I don’t know where Kyol is. I’ll be able to tell his direction when I get there, but how long will it take to get to him? Will he be in Corrist or in some province a hundred miles away?
“That will take us to the Realm?” Kynlee asks, eyeing the stone.
“Yes.” My answer is short, just like it was short with the other questions she asked on the way. I can’t focus on anything but Kyol. He’s weak and alone, and I swear he’s just figured out what I’m about to do. Anger sparks along our life-bond, and if emotions were words, his would be yelling, “Stay the hell away.”