Page 118 of Forsaken Secrets

"That's ridiculous, and you know it." He scoffed. "He's dead, Kaiya. Dead." He grabbed my chin and forced me to meet his eyes. "Promises to the dead don't matter. Trust me on that one. And until you can get past this damned guilt trip, you'll just be the helpless child you've always been."

I pulled away and glared at him. Helpless child? He was wrong. Completely wrong! I'd done everything I could to save us.

An image of Eli's face, telling me we should wait for Lynk, popped into my mind, and I grimaced. That wasn't what he meant, though, was it?

"Your uncle's death was not your fault, Kaiya," Lynk continued, stepping closer, his voice softer than before. "It was an unfortunate circumstance, nothing more."

My aunt had said the same dozens of times, but somehow it felt different coming from him. I gritted my teeth and looked up at him. It hurt to speak the words, but he needed to know — to understand. "I was the one who went to town that day. I had to explore that damn cove and see if it really was the Druid's shrine. I wasn't ready for the gremlyns, though.” I rubbed that scar above my eye. “And I was taken to Ellesmere, to the medical tent there. It was me who brought back the plague. We were all fine until then! First my uncle caught it, then my aunt. I was able to get money in time to save Aunt Grace, but the doctors were too late to do anything for him."

I dropped my gaze to my hands, now clutching the front of my shirt — coated in dirt and blood. "It should have been me."

"Kaiya." My name on his lips sounded so perfect, that gravelly voice making something melt inside me. He stepped closer, so I had to look up. "It wasn't your fault. Sometimes, bad things just happen."

I pushed away the strange feelings and looked up to his narrowed eyes. "It doesn't matter. I promised him! Aunt Grace deserves more than this shitty life."

His mouth tightened, and he ran a finger down my cheek. "Have you ever thought that the gods might have had a plan for you, and that's why they kept you alive?"

The intensity in his eyes made my heart slam against my ribs.

"I — why would they do that?"

He stared into my eyes, as though he were debating something, then dropped his hand and turned away. He stalked to a nearby tree and when he turned around, he carried a small book.

He walked close and passed it to me. "When you're ready to let go of this stupid self-sacrificing shit, open it."

Well, that was not what I expected. Still, I looked down to see several sets of locks holding the leather-bound volume closed. "Wait. What is this? And how am I supposed to open it? What does this have to do with anything?"

He just shrugged. "You'll figure it out."

More riddles.

Grimacing, I pushed it back at him. "No. No, and no. I'm not taking some weird book from you because you feel bad for me and want to teach me a lesson!"

His jaw pulsed, and he nodded, then grabbed it from my hands. "Fine. There are … things … I must take care of. Things I don't want you and the lordling tangled up in, so I may not be around for a while."

I wanted to argue, to ask where he'd been and say that I could help — but could I? I'd failed to help, yet again. And if it was something that he was struggling with, it must be pretty bad.

"Be safe, Lynk. I — I wouldn't want to see you hurt."

His eyes softened as he stared down at me. He lifted a hand and moved a piece of hair behind my ear, then dropped it back to his side, lips tightening. "You too, little thief. You, too."

Then he was gone, and I was alone — again — staring at the blank space where he'd been standing just moments before.

Why did it feel so much lonelier this time?

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