Page 2 of The Other Side

Osian turned his head. “Of course we will. Friends forever.”

Drum’s heart twisted. “But you don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

Drum widened his eyes. “How?”

“Because you’re mine.”

Drum’s smile disappeared, replaced by something softer. “Yours?”

“My best friend,” Osian explained. “The most important person in my world.”

Drum swallowed hard. He leaned closer until their heads rested together.

“If I have to go away someday,” he whispered, “will you remember me?”

“Why would you go away?” Osian pulled back, looking worried.

“I wouldn’t want to, but…will you?”

Osian looked almost offended. “I’d remember you if I lived to be a thousand.”

“What if you’re a thousand and one?”

“Ah, no. I’d probably forget you then.”

Drum laughed, though his eyes had gone shiny.

Osian squeezed his fingers. Their hands fit together easily, as though they had always belonged that way.

“You’re not getting rid of me,” Osian said.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

They sealed it with two thumbs pressed together. Then Drum rested his head against Osian’s shoulder. For a long time, neither spoke.

“You’re worrying,” Osian said.

Drum wanted to deny it, but that heavy feeling of not belonging rose up and choked him every now and again. Seeing how much Osian’s parents loved him and his brothers only made the cold disinterest of Drum’s own parents hurt more keenly.

“Stop it.” Osian stood and pulled Drum to his feet. “We’ll do the oath now. First one back to the tree house gets to use the knife first.”

Osian bolted off, and though Drum could have easily beaten him, he let Osian win.

By the time Drum climbed the wooden ladder, Osian was sitting on one of the cushions holding the knife. Drum had stolen it from his father two days ago. He’d been surprised not to be challenged about it, but he reasoned his father simply hadn’t noticed yet.

Drum sat on the cushion beside him. Osian dragged the blade across his palm and handed the knife over. With trembling fingers, Drum sliced his own hand, and they joined their bleeding palms.

“Your blood, my blood,” Osian whispered. “Osian and Drum. By thorn and moon, by seed and stone, I swear I will never forget you. When we are small, I will remember you. When we are grown, I will remember you. If you are lost, I will find you. This blood is my promise. Until the last star blinks out in the sky, I will remember you. I will always look for you. You are mine.”

Blood dripped from their joined hands, pooling onto the steel blade below.

“Your blood, my blood,” Drum said. “Drum and Osian. You are the only thing in the world that I love. You are the only reason I want to wake up in the morning. By heart and thorn, by moon and stars, I swear to love you always.”

As their palms pressed tight, magic flared—a sharp burst of silver and indigo light filling the little tree house. Both boys gasped in shock. The knife rose from the wooden floorboards, glowing bright, before tumbling out the open window.