Page 76 of Never Ever After

“We should also rest now. We need to ride out early tomorrow, back to the Iron Mountains.” Jin’s gaze is fixed on my hand, his brow furrowing.

“Not to Mist Island?” I ask, with both relief and a trace of disappointment.

“If we go there first, the Elders might refuse to let us leave again.” Dian hesitates then adds, “You don’t have a lot of time, Sister.”

My insides clench. As she sits down beside me, I flinch unthinkingly before I catch myself. Her expression clouds. “Are you afraid of me?”

“Everyone is afraid of you, Dian,” Jin replies with a sigh.

She glares at him. “In your case, Lord Jin-Yong, you’d be wise to hold on to your fear.”

As Jin scowls, stalking away to the trees on the far side, I try to explain to her. “You are my sister.” The word jars, tempering the flash of joy. “But we don’t really know each other yet. Just hours ago, you wanted to kill me, you loathed me… You’re terrifying.”

“That was before. Now we’re family.” She speaks without hesitation. “I’ll never hurt you, and I’ll kill anyone who does.”

Before I can reply, the pain in my head twists deeper. As I fumble through my herbs, Dian holds out a small, blue porcelain bottle. “This will give you some relief until we regain your ring. Take three drops for now—more, should your symptoms worsen.”

“Thank you.” I accept it gratefully, shaking out the dose and swallowing it. A sobering realization that I’m not doubting her anymore. As the pain subsides, I breathe easier.

“I’m sorry it took us so long to find you,” Dian says. “I couldn’t search for you until I was allowed to leave home. Since Mother and you were taken, more rules were enacted to keep our island safe—a heavy price imposed on all who leave.”

“What price?” I ask.

“I had to surrender the root of my ring—the key to our island. This way, if I’m caught, they can’t use me to find our home.” She brushes the ring on her hand. “Mother would have cut it from hers once she was taken, else the Iron Mountains would have already invaded us. She was able to hide yours because the root hadn’t fully formed yet, to bond with your ring.”

“Did it hurt?” I ask tentatively.

“Like a finger cut away.”

I shudder. “Is there any other risk to you for losing the root?”

“I must rely on another to bring me home,” she replies. “Fortunately, it doesn’t affect my magic. But if the root is cut before you’ve claimed your magic, the link to it will be irrevocably broken. It will be lost to you.”

It is a heavy price… and she did this for me.

“Tell me about your life here.” Though Dian still speaks like it’s a command, her tone is softer now.

“My aunt and uncle cared for me like family. We didn’t have much but were happy in our home. After they died, life became harder.”

“They aren’t your family; that wasn’t your home,” Dian says harshly, a glimpse of the fearsome witch.

I restrain the urge to snap at her. She’s not being spiteful; she’s hurt. “My aunt and uncle will always be my family—just as you are.”

Her throat convulses as she nods. “‘Yining’ is your childhood name; you must have remembered that, at least. Father will give you another, when we return. We are given our formal ones at our naming ceremonies once we turn sixteen.”

Her voice trails off. Maybe she realizes that my sixteenth has come and gone—that we spent it very differently. Dian probably had a grand celebration, while I spent mine with Mistress Henglan, not even realizing it was my birthday until it had passed.

“I’ll keep my name; it suits me.” There is a tug of resentment at everything I missed, the past too knotted to untangle in a day.

“If you like it, then it’s a good name,” she concedes.

Some of the tightness inside me loosens. “Tell me more about you, our family—anything.”

“I would share what I can, if you’d allow me.” When I nod, Dian rummages in her pouch to pull out a small leaf that’s more gray than green, purplish veins streaking its surface. “It’s a bond-leaf. It allows one to see into another’s mind briefly, if both are willing.”

Dian tears the leaf into two and chews one half, handing me the other. As I bite it, an excruciating bitterness floods my mouth. I gag, forcing it down despite wanting to spit it out. She leans forward to touch my forehead, and this time I don’t recoil. A tingling rush courses through me; it feels like falling as I sway on the ground.

Fragments of images rise like bubbles. I snatch at them, some slipping through my reach—each holding a shard of a memory. Dian’s face fills my mind, her hair in braids. Another girl appears beside her, smaller, with dark eyes. Is that me? The younger girl snatches a book from Dian, ripping a page. I wince as the Dian with braids—justifiably—yells at the younger me, then hurls the book at my head. A woman hurries into the room, pulling Dian away and scolding her. Resentment crowds me, maybe her own emotions—the simmering anger underscored by a stream of affection. The image blurs, another appearing… of Dian crying in bed, her cheeks wet with tears. Back then, I’d crawled beneath her covers and held her until her sobs eased as she wrapped an arm around my shoulders. More glimpses spill into my mind, of us through time: playing together, fighting, laughing—until everything stills, falling away, leaving just an image of Dian standing by the door. Alone. Waiting. No one returns, such emptiness in her chest, her eyes stinging like she’s wept herself dry. Night falls, then flees, the day rising once more. The anguish in her expression stabs me, a hollow gouged, the sense of never being whole again.