Mildly disgruntled, I sigh.
One would think that you would have learned to say no by this point in life, I hear Nolan’s voice say in my head.
Michael Darling is quite persistent. You only say that because you don’t know him, I whisper back.
“In ages past, there were three Sisters,” I say.
“One, two, three,” says Michael, sounding content.
My mind stands still. “One, two, three,” I whisper back, staring off into the nothingness.
Michael elbows me in the ribcage. Like clockwork, my mouth spouts out the story without me having to think of the words.
All the while, my mind spins.
“The eldest two loved one another dearly, though they never seemed to find a connection with the Youngest. She had been created well after her Sisters and lacked the camaraderie the eldest two shared so deeply. Still, the love the eldest two Sisters shared for one another was enough, and they paid it no mind that the Youngest always lingered outside their exclusive ring of trust and devotion.”
My heart is racing, so hard Michael places his palm on my chest.
“Thu-thump. Thu-thump,” he says.
I put my hand over his and intertwine our fingers.
“It was a pleasant life, if not a dull one, so the three Sisters found ways to entertain themselves. A favored pastime included weaving their own stories into the Fabric. While it started innocently, they soon found their stories reflected in the lives of the beings who lived in the various realms. Fascination sparked in the hearts of the three Sisters, though the Youngest was skeptical. She warned that, should they allow themselves to be swept away, there would be dire consequences to meddling in the lives of fae and mortals.”
I tell Michael of the love the eldest two sisters had for each other. But that’s not the part of the story that’s making my heart beat wildly.
“The Youngest Sister was the most practical of them all and sensed that meddling in the lives of those below would end in great tragedy. She vowed to keep watch on her elder Sisters, to steer them away from great trouble, for she knew the elder twowould not dare dissuade one another from the musings of their hearts, misguided as their hearts may be.”
And then I’m back in the Den, telling the story to a group of Lost Boys huddled at my feet, and they’re all alive. Freckles staring up at me, the firelight dancing off his vibrant red hair. Joel, looking guilty, but enraptured by my story all the same. Simon and Nettle.
John.
It’s Peter’s voice that I hear, after I tell of the curse the Eldest Sister placed on the Middle.
“And the Youngest Sister?” he’d asked me from the back of the room.
I hear my voice, clear as day as it wades to the present through a thousand things that have since molded me into a different person entirely. “It’s said that she minds her own business, occasionally cleaning up messes made by the other two.”
My heart stops.
“There are three of them,” I say, hardly able to contain the excitement in my chest. “Michael, there are three of them. And the third cleans up the others’ messes.”
CHAPTER 8
I’m running down the hallway of the ship, Michael’s arms wrapped around my neck as he counts, “One, two, three.”
My brother is significantly heavier than I remember, but he has grown a year’s worth since the last time I picked him up. I can’t bring myself to care, though. Not when adrenaline is rushing through me at my new discovery.
Minutes ago, I rushed out the door of my and Nolan’s room. Maddox has started stationing multiple guards in the hall, just in case I need to call for help in the middle of the night. That way, one can assist and the other can run to alert Maddox. I’d asked one of the guards to keep a watch on Nolan while I was gone, to which he’d promptly agreed.
I’m about to burst through Charlie’s door, when I hear voices on the other side.
I immediately recognize them as belonging to Charlie and Maddox. They’re speaking in hushed, urgent tones. Both sound less than happy with the other.
“It was a mistake,” says Maddox.
“Oh, just what a girl loves to hear.”
