“This is all that’s left of me, Harper,” he said, but his voice was faint. “What’s waiting for you farther on . . . that’s not me anymore.”

My eyes stung with unshed tears. I believed him, that this . . . vision or whatever it was of him was the last, dying remnants of the real David, saying good-bye. Maybe because he loved me, maybe because he didn’t want me stopping the Oracle.

Knowing David, it was probably a little bit of both.

“I can’t,” I said again. And then, firmer, “I won’t.”

With that, I bent to pick up my fallen sword, and then I stepped forward, moving through him as he faded from sight completely.

Head held high, I walked out of the open cave space and toward a narrow fissure in the back wall of the cave. The farther I went, the brighter the passageway got, and for a moment, I wondered if there was a hole in the ceiling, opening up to the sky, like it had in the other chamber. But then I realized that, no, the light wasn’t coming from above, but from out in front of me. And it wasn’t the soft yellow glow of the sun, but the bright, unnatural gold I’d seen spilling out of David’s eyes over and over again. I remembered the way he’d looked in the grips of a vision and tried to tell myself I was prepared for whatever it was I was going to see when I reached the end of this path.

I was wrong.

The narrow passage gave way to another, larger open chamber, so high the ceiling was lost in the gloom despite the light.

David—the real David—sat in the middle of this chamber. His clothes were ragged and dirty, with holes in his T-shirt and in the knees of his jeans. I had a feeling they were the same clothes he’d been wearing the night he left Pine Grove, and for some reason, that made me the saddest of all. What had he been through since that last night? What had happened to him?

“David,” I called, the name echoing around the cave, seeming to lodge in my heart as I said it.

Because it wasn’t David sitting in front of me. Despite the ragged clothes, the hair that still stuck up in weird tufts, the truly terrible footwear, the person in front of me wasn’t the boy I had loved. He was . . . a thing.

An Oracle.

And then his bright eyes turned to me, mouth opening.

For one heartbeat, stupid as it sounds, I thought maybe I was wrong. Maybe he wasn’t as far gone as I’d thought, and he was going call me “Pres,” and things would be okay. That the illusion he’d created was close to the real thing.

Instead, he looked at me with those blinding eyes and intoned, “Paladin.”

Chapter 34

I SWALLOWED HARD, my mouth dry.

“You used to have a different name for me,” I said, my voice sounding thin and tight. “Do you remember that? You called me Pres.”

David—or the thing that had been David—didn’t move, didn’t even give any sense that he’d heard me.

Cold sweat was dripping down my back, but I made myself step a little closer. “Of course, I’m sure there were other things you called me that weren’t nearly as nice, but you usually didn’t say those to my face.”

“Where is the Mage?” David asked, the words echoing, and I bit back a sigh.

“Which one? Ryan or Blythe? We have two, you know, and it’s a total—”

David flung out one hand, a bolt of golden light shooting from his palm and cracking against the rock behind me. Tiny pebbles and dust flew, and I flinched away.

“That’s a new trick,” I said, wishing I didn’t sound so shaky. “Where did you pick that up?”

“You know the Mage I’m speaking of,” David said, and I wondered if we’d spend these last moments like this, talking in circles around each other.

But then maybe these weren’t the last moments. Maybe there was a chance that I could actually find the David still inside him.

And if there wasn’t . . .

I shifted my grip on the sword. The metal was cold despite my sweaty palms, the little grooves on the hilt biting into my skin. That was good, though. The discomfort made me feel grounded and aware, the same way I’d always liked my ponytail just a little too tight at cheerleading practice. Minor pain kept you from focusing on major pain. In cheerleading, that had been the stretch and burn of muscles.

Now the pain was all in my heart.

“Blythe isn’t here,” I said to him. “We left her behind when we realized what she wanted to do to you. David, we’re here to help you.”

He tilted his head just a little to the left, like he was trying to hear something from a distance. “We?” he repeated.

“Bee and I. And Ryan, too, he . . . he helped us before we left. David, there are people who care about you, people who want to save you.”

A little smile twisted his mouth, but there was nothing David-like in it. “Save me? From what?”

I faltered, my sneakers skidding a little on the damp rock. “From . . . this. From hurting people, from not being who you really are. David, there aren’t any more Ephors. There’s no one to use you or who wants to control you, and if we could find some way to help you get rid of your powers—”

Another bolt of light, another crack, and a showering of little rocks.

“This is who I am,” he intoned, the voice his and not his all at the same time. “This is what I am.”

I shook my head. “No. You’re a lot more than this, David, and you deserve an actual life.”

There was a low humming noise, and I wondered if it had been there the whole time. I could feel the hairs on my arms standing up, a chill slithering down my spine, and my hands tightened on the hilt of the sword.

“You saw this,” I said, my voice thick with tears. “I don’t know if you even remember it anymore, but that first day we met Blythe, you sat in my car and told me you used to have bad dreams about me.”

David didn’t move, didn’t give any sign of even hearing me. His eyes were nothing but glowing circles, and his whole body was lined in light. Still, I made myself keep going.

“You said we were fighting, but we weren’t angry. We were sad.”

Dropping one hand from the sword, I dashed at the tears on my face. “And you were right. I’m not angry. Not about any of it.”

“Then why are you holding a sword?”

David’s voice was still doing that echo thing, like there was more than one voice coming out of his mouth. I’d heard that before, of course. Whenever he had a vision, he tended to sound like that. But now, I wasn’t sure if it was the acoustics in the cave, or the power he’d developed, but it was like a chorus of voices now.

Still, that question . . . it hadn’t sounded like the Oracle. For all those voices making all that noise, there was a little edge, just the tiniest hint of snark, which sounded like David.

I tried not to let that make me too hopeful. So he sounded like himself. So there was still a part of him in there. I’d known that, right? It’s why he’d come here to hide himself, trying to stop this from happening. But I hadn’t been able to let that happen. I’d had to find him and see for myself, and now I was going to pay the price for that.

Both my hands were wrapped tight around the hilt of the sword again, but I made myself sound as light as I could as I called back, “Oh, you know me. Always have to make sure I have the right accessory. A sword just felt appropriate for visiting my magical ex-boyfriend in a cave. Although now I’m wondering if it isn’t a bit much.”