Page 92 of The Never List
My heart expands in my chest as I finish with the sails. “You’ll see.”
27
Axl
“Axl.” Rylee gasps my name as I dock the ship. “I…I’ve never…”
After we disembark, I interlace our fingers, guiding her along the shoreline toward a bank of pristine marble steps that rest on a plateau ahead.
“I’ve never brought anyone here,” I say when she can’t finish her sentence. “It’s open to the public, of course.” I motion to the few people who climb the stairs and enter the wide-open building held up by smooth stone pillars evenly spaced around the entire rectangular structure. “But I’ve never brought a potential here.”
Rylee’s blue eyes glisten beneath the torches that flicker from sconces lining the building. The sun has fully set behind the horizon, leaving the sky an inky shade of black with the moon high enough to coat everything in silver.
We clear the stairs and walk between the pillars that are so tall and wide, they seem to touch the sky. I guide her across the sleek marble floors, the salty air crisp and warm in a way that shouldn’t be possible with an open-air structure.
The few of my people visiting dip their heads low and casually leave us alone, heading down the steps and out ofthe building with ease.
“She’s magnificent,” Rylee says, swallowing hard as she tips her head back to fully survey the structure before her.
The giant statue is made of nonporous stone. It’s a smooth, polished sapphire color with veins of the richest, deepest greens. A woman stands in a tall, proud position. One hand holds the folds of a long gown that has movement even among the stone, and the other hand is outstretched toward the high ceiling. The strands of her hair flow all around her heart-shaped face like she’s submerged in water, and a necklace of leaves hugs her bare neck.
A low power radiates from the statue, one that’s the same as mine—all earth and water and tangible connections to the world around us. It dances with mine, the soft humming like a lullaby I can’t quite remember. The old familiar longing pricks my chest, and I take a deep breath to soothe it as I look up at where my mother sleeps. Instinct beckons me to give a drop of my power, but I’ve given this year’s offering already.
“I come here when I feel lost,” I explain, cracking myself wide open for Rylee. We only have a week left, and I’ve made my decision. I want her in a way I’ve never wanted anyone before. It goes beyond the fundamental need for it… Ilovethis woman, even though it’s way too early to say as much.
“Are you feeling lost now?” she asks gently, tearing her eyes from my mother’s likeness to me.
“I actually feel a lot clearer than I have in months. This place is sacred to me, special in a way I can’t put words to, and I wanted you to be a part of it.”
She opens her lips a few times but fails to respond.
I grin down at her, holding up our intertwined fingers to my mother’s statue. “Mom,” I say, my voice raw. “This is Rylee Gray.” Rylee’s eyes go wide, her smile bright. I continue, “She means a lot to me, and I wanted you to meet her.”
Rylee scrambles for a second but quickly bows deep at the waist. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Goddess Tareena.”
“Please.” I urge her to stand up. “Call her Tareena. She wouldn’t mind.” The few recollections I have of my mother play across my memory—a caring, untamable woman who loved to play games. A fearless woman who taught me about nature and power and how to work with it instead of trying to control it. I remember her being a constant warmth and source of unconditional love before she was ripped from my life.
Rylee shakes her head, leaning into me when I release her hand and wrap an arm around her shoulders instead.
“Can you feel her?” I ask, looking down at Rylee.
She closes her eyes. “Yes.”
Anticipation tightens my chest. I’ve seen my people here before. I’ve spoken to many on separate occasions, and there are few who can sense the power like I can. I’m not testing Rylee, but I’m not wasting this moment, either. Maybe here, she’ll open up to me more.
“Describe it to me,” I gently push, my voice softening.
Rylee keeps her eyes closed, her brow furrowed slightly. “She’s warm,” she says, taking a deep breath before smiling wide. “And…mischievous.” Rylee opens her eyes, nudging her body against mine. “She feels like you. All games and constant movement, like the ocean you love so much.”
Emotion clogs my throat, my senses soaring with heraccurate description. Another piece of the puzzle—Rylee is something different than the norm. What, exactly? I’m not sure, but I’m dying to find out.
“You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” I ask.
“You just cursed in front of your mother,” she whispers, like Mom can really hear me.
Another sting pricks my chest as I look up at her statue. “I don’t think she can hear me.”
“Why not?” Rylee asks.
