Page 94 of The Last Hope

I laugh. “How can you be sure I wouldn’t want to fling myself off and die and go meet the gods instead? Beingpressed up against youmight have that effect on me.”

He smiles wider. “It might. Should we test it, then?” He holds out his hand again.

I take it this time, and he guides me forward.

I sense Court.

Body stiff, his rigid grip tightens on theMythsbook. I can imagine his stern narrowed eyes. Reading in bed, he pauses on a page. I can’t control our link or where my mind wanders, but I shouldn’t be dwelling on their disapproval or approval. I’m my own person.

This is my body. Not theirs, but these are just words. Whatever I do, they’ll experience faintly.

Court tries to blink, and his breathing deepens and emotions grow determined in a way that tells me he’s trying to focus on his book, less on me. But he must still sense me in a frozen standstill because he mouths,Franny.

I know.

This past month, I’ve struggled with letting myself desireanything outside of training. Who would’ve thought Court, of all people, would chastise me for working hard?

Mykal said I was scared of confronting what I’ve been feeling.

I laughed too loud at him and ended up snorting. And then shrugging. Maybe he’s right, and as my mind fixates on Mykal, I sense him more strongly.

He whittles a flute, his thumb pressed hard to the dull side of the blade while he chips wood. His nose flares, battling warmth and desires that veer toward Court. Since uncoupling, they haven’t slept in the same bed. The powerful urge to crawl to each other and embrace keeps them wide-awake at night.

They’ve slept terribly. Just when Court had been sleeping well on theLucretziatoo, barely tossing and turning. Even without medicine.

“Your feet go here.” Stork’s voice brings me back to the moment, and I try to forget the lurch of my stomach and my spiraling pulse.

Stork helps me balance while I plant one foot inside his. He holds my hip and places his other palm on the small of my back. “One more step,” he tells me.

And then I’m off the ground. Where I could die—I shut my eyes, knocking myself for thinking too much. Bad thoughts be gone.

Clutching onto his back, I put my other foot outside of his. Our legs interlace, and before I can speak—we shoot across the room. Zipping at rapid speed to the door, my lungs catapult to my throat.

“Wait.” I panic, my body screamingabort.My grip tightens on him, cheek smashing into his chest.Pressed up against him most certainly.

“Relax, dove—”

I shift my weight, and the hoverboard screeches, jerking forward and back.

No, no, no.

Stork holds me harder against his chest. “Relax, I have you—” He cuts himself off as the board tilts backward and slips out from under our feet. His spine thuds to the ground, and I crash on top of him.

He erupts in full-bodied laughs, the noise thundering against my belly. My lips upturn as my Fast-Tracker heart sings forgotten songs of thrill and joy. Stork may have never stepped foot on a Saltarian planet, but he’s somehow reminding me of home. Of the Franny Bluecastle who delighted in simple pleasures, who never wasted time on fear.

And he’s a reminder that I’ve changed.

I’m different.Court once said that I can still be a Fast-Tracker, but I’m more. I’m my good-natured mother. I’m my long-lost friends, and I know I’m human too—but gods, what does that even mean?

My lips fall. “I wish I were Saltarian.” I whisper a sad truth while lying along his muscular build. I’m about to sit up, but his arm curves around my lower back.

“Don’t wish that,” he says softly, almost achingly. “Your humanity is one of the best parts of you.”

My breath slows. Overwhelming feelings bear against me.

The door suddenlywhooshesopen.

Zimmer emerges and then skids to a halt. He smiles wryly like he caught Stork and me lip-locked. But I’mchastelyon top of Stork, and quickly, I slide from beneath his arm and fumble to my knees.