Page 29 of Evermore

“I know.” He took a deep breath, speaking words I’d always known him to avoid. “My sister used to have a really special power. And one day a bad man took it because of something foolish I did. Ever since, I’ve hated using mine. It felt wrong, like I was betraying her somehow. But now she’s gone, and I’ve realized something. Harlow hated it when I held back because of what happened to her. She pushed me to embrace who I was, magic and all. She’d want me to use my gift to help others.” Archer gently took Quill’s hand, examining the small cut on her finger. “So maybe it’s time I start honoring her memory by doing what she always encouraged me to do.”

As Archer’s fingers traced over Quill’s paper cut, time appeared to slow, then stop completely. Dust motes hung suspended in shafts of morning light streaming through the windows. The pendulum of the grandfather clock in the hall froze mid-swing. Even the flames in the fireplace stood eerily still, frozen tongues of blue, orange and gold.

For a breathless moment, Archer, Quill and I were caught in a bubble outside of time. The cut on her finger remained unchanged, neither healing nor worsening. Archer’s eyes widened in shock, his fingers still hovering over Quill’s hand. Her curls were suspended in mid-bounce, her mouth open in shock, likely just like mine.

I watched in stunned silence. The binding marks on my wrists pulsed urgently, as if sensing the disturbance in the natural order of things. Then, as suddenly as it began, the moment shattered. Time lurched back into motion with an audible snap. The dust motes resumed their lazy dance. The clock ticked on, and the fire crackled merrily as if nothing had happened.

Archer jerked his hand back as if he’d been burned, staring at his fingers.

“What was that?” I asked.

“I… I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Hey, you fixed it. There’s no hurt at all now.” Quill held up her hand.

But neither of us looked away from each other. “Archer, correct me if I’m wrong, but you descend from a healing god of some kind, don’t you?”

He narrowed his eyes, looking at me like I’d grown a second head. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Because it’s time?” I whispered, as if Vesalia could hear me speak her name. “What was Harlow’s power? Before she lost it?”

“She could pause time. Holy shit. She could pause time. Is that what I just did?”

I opened my mouth to speak but couldn’t. Not for moments, as I replayed what had happened.

“I think the answer you’re looking for is yes,” said a voice from the porch.

Fucking Aeris.

I flung the door open. “When did you get here?”

“I knocked, no one answered.”

“Archer healed my finger,” Quill said, lifting her pointer finger as if Aeris could see the injury.

“Did he now?”

“You didn’t answer my question. When did you get here?”

“About three minutes ago, dear. Forgive me. I was caught off guard by the time halt.”

“You felt that?” Archer asked.

“I did, but don’t worry. Most wouldn’t have. Not unless they were close enough to you. Are we headed somewhere?”

Archer and I didn’t get to answer before Quill. “Yes. We’re going to see the orphans in the new city.”

“Oh,” Aeris said, that wrinkled smile on her face fooling only Quill as Archer and I exchanged a glance. “That’s lovely. I’m sure you’ll have quite the adventure.”

“You should come,” Quill said, bouncing on her toes as Aeris smoothed her hands down her brown apron.

“Gods probably have far more important things to do than follow mortals around the cities,” I tried, hoping Aeris would take the hint.

Though I’m sure she did, she still saw the opportunity and grabbed it. “Oh nonsense. I’d be happy to tag along. See what I can make of Stirling these days.”

“I’m pretty sure Stirling is fine without fancy makeovers and gilded streets,” I said, not bothering to hide the unamused tone in my voice.

“Don’t mind her.” Quill took Aeris’s hand. “She doesn’t trust you. She says we have to be careful with the gods. But I told her you were good, so Thea says she’ll come around.”