“Just … be careful,” he says. “There’s still so much for us to do, and I can’t do it without you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I promise him softly.

Silence falls between us, affording me a moment to realize that my relationship with Kael is … complicated. Mostly because my relationship with Ward is complicated. Despite having done little but wander aimlessly around the catacombs for the last few days, I still haven’t had a chance to gather my thoughts about him. All I know is, Ward cared for me when no one else did. He kept me safe and brought my broken spirit back to life. He protected me. But … then he turned cold and unfeeling when I learned that everything he’d said and done was to get me to reveal my Speaking ability. That had crushed me. The betrayal I’d felt … It still hurts, regardless that I’ve since discovered Ward was playing a role in order to remain close to me, to keep protecting me. He was on my side all along. But I don’t know where it leaves us. I don’t know who he is— and who he is to me.

That uncertainty is keeping a wall between me and Kael, who I respect, even admire. And not that it matters, but there’s no denying he’s attractive. I know that if I allowed myself, what I feel for Kael could easily turn into more.

But … Ward …

Right now, I can’t think of Kael as anything other than a friend. Not until I know where I stand with everything else. With everyone else.

“What are you thinking about?”

I focus again to see Kael watching me closely.

I clear my throat and search for something to say, anything but the truth. “Just wondering what’s going on with you and Cami.”

Immediately, I know I’ve said the wrong thing. Kael’s face shuts down, his eyes growing guarded as he turns to look out at the brightly lit Opera House as we sail by.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says flatly.

Hesitant now, I say, “There’s this … tension between you.”

“There’s no tension.”

Quietly, I admonish, “Kael.” I wait until he pulls his gaze back to me before I gently say, “You can talk to me, you know. Two and a half years without speaking means I’ve become a pretty good listener.” The irony is not lost on me that, for most of those two and a half years, I was locked in a cell where I had no one to listen to.

His mouth tips up at the edges, but then he clenches his jaw, considering. Finally, his stiff posture eases—slightly—and he says, “Cami was there ten years ago, that day when all those people died in Vanik’s lab because my dad couldn’t save them.”

I remember him telling me this, but I stay silent, waiting to see why he’s bringing it up again now.

“I just—I feel guilty, I guess,” he admits in a whisper, staring at the floating orb rather than looking at me. “It’s irrational, I know. It’s not like I had anything to do with that accident. But if my dad—if he’d been able to save them …” His throat bobs. “I don’t have the same problem with Keeda, but she wasn’t there that day, she didn’t have to stand there and—and watch her parents die. But Cami … every time I look at her, I remember what happened that day … and everything that came afterward.”