summoning something back. “What are you calling this one?”
“Incomplete.”
She blew out a breath. “Wow. Hell of a name.”
He chuckled. “No. I mean it’s not complete. The rest of the vision hasn’t come to me.”
Vision? What was he talking about?
He pointed to a small spot in the middle of the sculpture. “Right here. Something is supposed to go right here, but I don’t know who or what yet.”
Things finally clicked into place. How he’d known where she was going to be the night before, if not why. How he’d known who she was even before she set foot on his father’s land. “You have seer’s blood in you.” It was rare to find, rarer still not to find an accompanying madness underneath. Her mother’s people hadn’t exactly been prolific before they were wiped away in the war that split the Courts.
Those sapphire eyes, bloodshot though they were, pierced through her. “Where, and on what side, I don’t know, but yeah.” He shoved a filthy hand through his hair, dislodging what had to be more glass dust. “I finished the ball one last night, but this one has been plaguing me for a while now. Until I know what goes in the center, it remains incomplete.”
She turned her attention back to the glass and metal ball. “What do you call that one?”
“What would you call it?”
Dear gods, she did not want to name who it was. Shane didn’t just create art. He created people, their essence flowing through the piece with shattering results . “Please don’t make me.”
His hand reached out to her, but he pulled back. “You know, Akane.”
She walked back to the jagged ball. “Do you know who she is?”
“Are you so sure it’s a she? It could be Oberon.”
She shook her head. “I know who this is, and I know what that figure represents. It’s a she.” She pointed back to the forlorn figure. “Just like I know who that is.” She shivered. “You’re playing with dangerous visions, Shane.”
“Playing? Like I have a choice in this? Unlike you, I don’t get to pick and choose what visions come to me. I just get to watch them come alive under my hands.” The water in his tiny bathroom started up, and it wasn’t long before a pair of damp arms circled her waist. “Akane. Do you know what happens if the figure falls?”
She closed her eyes, but when she opened them, somehow Shane had toppled the figure. Thanks to the way he’d constructed the ball, now the inside only reflected the jagged edges of the outside over and over until there was nothing left but chaos and death. The position of the figure’s arms when standing were perfect for a figure lying on the ground as well, and if that happened the world itself would be in danger. “Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“We should tell Robin.”
He turned her around, his big hands gentle. “Can you take a look for me? Maybe I’m missing something.” His eyes strayed back to the fallen figure before spearing into her once more. “If this can be avoided, it has to be.”
She sighed. “Do you know what happened the last time I tried to get a look at him ?”
“No, what?”
She leaned against him, trusting him with her weight, for once not caring that her clothes would be covered in grime. She needed his strength after seeing those two pieces of art. “Once, a long time ago, I saw my mother talking to a pretty, pretty man.” His arms tightened and she wriggled in protest, turning once more to study the jagged ball. “So I wondered who that pretty man was, but my mother refused to tell me. So I opened my vision, because damn if someone was going to tell me that I couldn’t know something.” She ignored his belly laugh. “When I woke up, Robin Goodfellow—”
“Who was the pretty man, I presume?”
“Yup. He offered me a job.”
“Because he likes that kind of crazy, huh?”
She elbowed him, pleased when he gave a soft grunt. “Do you know who she is?”
“No, and that scares the shit out of me.”
“Why?”
“We
“Incomplete.”
She blew out a breath. “Wow. Hell of a name.”
He chuckled. “No. I mean it’s not complete. The rest of the vision hasn’t come to me.”
Vision? What was he talking about?
He pointed to a small spot in the middle of the sculpture. “Right here. Something is supposed to go right here, but I don’t know who or what yet.”
Things finally clicked into place. How he’d known where she was going to be the night before, if not why. How he’d known who she was even before she set foot on his father’s land. “You have seer’s blood in you.” It was rare to find, rarer still not to find an accompanying madness underneath. Her mother’s people hadn’t exactly been prolific before they were wiped away in the war that split the Courts.
Those sapphire eyes, bloodshot though they were, pierced through her. “Where, and on what side, I don’t know, but yeah.” He shoved a filthy hand through his hair, dislodging what had to be more glass dust. “I finished the ball one last night, but this one has been plaguing me for a while now. Until I know what goes in the center, it remains incomplete.”
She turned her attention back to the glass and metal ball. “What do you call that one?”
“What would you call it?”
Dear gods, she did not want to name who it was. Shane didn’t just create art. He created people, their essence flowing through the piece with shattering results . “Please don’t make me.”
His hand reached out to her, but he pulled back. “You know, Akane.”
She walked back to the jagged ball. “Do you know who she is?”
“Are you so sure it’s a she? It could be Oberon.”
She shook her head. “I know who this is, and I know what that figure represents. It’s a she.” She pointed back to the forlorn figure. “Just like I know who that is.” She shivered. “You’re playing with dangerous visions, Shane.”
“Playing? Like I have a choice in this? Unlike you, I don’t get to pick and choose what visions come to me. I just get to watch them come alive under my hands.” The water in his tiny bathroom started up, and it wasn’t long before a pair of damp arms circled her waist. “Akane. Do you know what happens if the figure falls?”
She closed her eyes, but when she opened them, somehow Shane had toppled the figure. Thanks to the way he’d constructed the ball, now the inside only reflected the jagged edges of the outside over and over until there was nothing left but chaos and death. The position of the figure’s arms when standing were perfect for a figure lying on the ground as well, and if that happened the world itself would be in danger. “Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“We should tell Robin.”
He turned her around, his big hands gentle. “Can you take a look for me? Maybe I’m missing something.” His eyes strayed back to the fallen figure before spearing into her once more. “If this can be avoided, it has to be.”
She sighed. “Do you know what happened the last time I tried to get a look at him ?”
“No, what?”
She leaned against him, trusting him with her weight, for once not caring that her clothes would be covered in grime. She needed his strength after seeing those two pieces of art. “Once, a long time ago, I saw my mother talking to a pretty, pretty man.” His arms tightened and she wriggled in protest, turning once more to study the jagged ball. “So I wondered who that pretty man was, but my mother refused to tell me. So I opened my vision, because damn if someone was going to tell me that I couldn’t know something.” She ignored his belly laugh. “When I woke up, Robin Goodfellow—”
“Who was the pretty man, I presume?”
“Yup. He offered me a job.”
“Because he likes that kind of crazy, huh?”
She elbowed him, pleased when he gave a soft grunt. “Do you know who she is?”
“No, and that scares the shit out of me.”
“Why?”
“We
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