“No. This is good,” I tell Kiah. She nods and gives Raul a thumbs up. The helicopter tilts to the right and we move in a slow arc around the tiny island.
According to the report I read about twenty times last night, the atoll we’re circling is, as Karl claimed, basically uninhabited. It’s used as a stopping station for cruise ships filled with travelers seeking the allure of a lagoon, and for modern day pirates, but for the most part, its wide, empty beaches are left alone to bake in the sun. It’s beautiful, in a stark, barren sort of way. I can’t help but wonder at the memories created on these shores, of the people that fell in love or laughed or cried or smuggled or dreamed or did countless other things that helped shape the history of every grain of sand and coral.
I want to ask Kiah again if she’s sure nobody is there. But I’ve already done that several times this morning only to get the same answer—if anyone is, then they’re idiots, considering the lagoon has been destroyed by volcanic activity.
A big hand squeezes my arm. Karl knows me too well. I match his smile before he resumes talking to Raul.
I lean forward to see the atoll better, the thick straps holding me into the helicopter snug against my chest. Wind whips through my long hair; I can’t help but wish I’d tied it back in a ponytail. But that’s a stupid wish when I’m getting ready to destroy something beautiful.
Something that exists in this moment will no longer exist in a matter of moments, thanks to me. It’s a sobering thought.
My friends in the helicopter seem so much more comfortable with their roles and actions as Magicals. But then, they’ve been working on missions for years now; they’ve had plenty of time to come to terms with whatever havoc or beauty they wreak upon the worlds. This is probably nothing to them. They’ll go to sleep tonight, not even thinking of what will happen.
I wonder if I’ll ever be like that.
I let go of the breath I’ve been holding in. The atoll in the distance is still for one shining moment and then begins to crack into pieces. Raul pulls the helicopter toward the left; as we fly away, I crane my neck around to watch what was once beautiful sink into bubbling waters.
The calendar in front of me says it’s September first.
I’ve been living in Annar for nearly four months—four good months. Four of the best months of my life. I am, without a doubt, the happiest I’ve been in . . . well, forever.
Everything is perfect, except for one tiny thing. And, okay, it really isn’t tiny—not to me, in any case. Because, Kellan isn’t in Annar yet.
He was supposed to be back by late July, or, at least, that’s what I’d overheard. I’ve been too chicken to actually ask Jonah outright about it. The one sore spot in our relationship, the one thing that mars our otherwise dreamy, perfect existence together, has been the fact that I am also Connected to his twin brother.
Which is insane and difficult for me to deal with on good days, so I’ve gotten pretty good at pretending the Connection to Kellan doesn’t exist; this is made easier by the fact that Kellan has gotten pretty good at pretending I don’t exist.
He and I dated in high school, and I’m not going to lie—he’s a phenomenal guy. Only, he isn’t Jonah, and that was the problem, or maybe the solution, but to make a long story short, because of a Connection that neither of us were aware of, Kellan and I were serious for a couple of months shortly after he and Jonah first moved to town. It was . . . complicated. And messy. And painful. Because I was supposed to be with Jonah, because he is my Connection, the person I’ve loved my entire life, and we’d dreamed about each other since we were little, and he’d manipulated his family into moving to California for the sole purpose of being near me. And yet, I was drawn to Kellan, and he to me, and we hurt Jonah and ourselves in the process, and now Kellan doesn’t speak to me. At all.
Logically, I understand his reasoning. But it doesn’t mean that I don’t think about him far too often, thanks to being the only woman alive Connected to two guys, let alone brothers. They also have two Connections apiece, the only others in existence, but the secondary ones are to each other since they are twins.
So, like I said, nightmarishly messy. Actually, I can think of a bunch of other words to describe it, but it’ll only lead me to another round of self-pity that I’ve tried my hardest to stay away from since moving to Annar.