My breath catches in my chest.
Valerian and I knew each other as kids. In Mom’s memories, I played with him a lot.
I suppose I should’ve anticipated that this could be the case. He’s from Soma. I’ve been suspecting that I’m from Soma. The possibility of us knowing each other in the past was there.
I turn to the grown Valerian, who’s staring at the scene openmouthed. “The first time we met, I thought you looked familiar.”
He nods, still looking stunned. “I felt the same. I even told you, remember?” He shifts his gaze to the little me. “I must’ve recognized you even with the black window blocking the memories.”
I also look at our younger selves.
Why can’t I remember this?
I glance at my mom for answers, but that’s useless. Like in her version of this event, she’s just holding my father’s hand.
I turn my attention to the other adults in the room. One man looks particularly familiar, just as he did when I first saw this in Mom’s window.
Now I understand why that is.
“That’s your father, isn’t it?” I point at the man. “Davu?”
Valerian nods, his jaw tight. “That’s him.”
“I’m sorry, Davu. I don’t think there’s a choice,” my father is saying as I tune in to the adults’ conversation. “The prophecy—”
“Was vague,” Davu says dismissively. “If—”
Little Valerian pulls on his sleeve. “Dad, can Bailey and I go to the garden?”
Davu nods, and little me and the boy race out of the room, ending the memory.
This new memory is of a birthday party.
Valerian, Kojo, my twin, and I are playing together with another dozen children.
I’m barely following the events, in part because I’m still reeling from what I’ve just learned, and in part because the memory is replaying even faster.
“I thought you were older than me,” I say to grown Valerian as a new memory starts, one where he loses his front tooth and puts it in a little box, like treasure.
“Time runs faster on Soma than on Gomorrah,” he says. “Since I stayed there longer than you, I’ve lived longer.”
Yet another memory starts, now with everyone moving comically fast. In it, Kojo, Valerian, Asha, and I are playing hide-and-seek and yelling in sped-up, chipmunky voices.
Then a memory of a funeral whizzes by. “My parents,” Valerian explains when I look at him questioningly. “The only thing I was allowed to remember about my family was the name of the group responsible for their deaths.” His voice roughens. “Icelus.”
The next memory passes in an eyeblink, showing Kojo, Valerian, Asha, and me running barefoot outside.
“The window is about to break,” Valerian says, and two memories flash by in the time it takes him to finish that sentence. In one, his father is chastising him for something, and in the other, he and Kojo are playing a sport the rules of which are impossible to figure out at this speed.
The next dozen memories go by so quickly I only make out snapshots. In one, he kisses my five-year-old self on the cheek; in another, he’s holding her hand.
No wonder I react to him as I do. He was probably my first crush—
The world explodes around us, jolting me awake.
I open my eyes in the real world. I must’ve slept for a while. It was still daytime when I fell asleep, but it’s sunrise now.
Recalling what I’ve just discovered, I leap to my feet.
Valerian is already coming toward me, hair disheveled and eyes wild. “I remember everything.”
Something about his eyes stops me dead in my tracks.
He’s got droplets of red moisture near his tear ducts.
Blood tears.
I want to scream, but no sound comes out of my lips.
Valerian’s face goes ashen.
Can he see the terrible news on my face?
But no. He points at my eyes, and I know what he’s looking at without him saying anything.
I rub at the moisture gathering in the corners and look at my trembling hand.
There’s blood on my fingers. Like Valerian, I have bloody tears.
The scream that I’m suppressing grows louder.
Valerian pivots to face the other side of the platform. “Dylan!”
She rushes over, then notices our eyes and freezes. “The massive viral load,” she whispers. “I was hoping I was wrong about the implications.”
“The cure,” Valerian barks. “Do you know how to make it?”
She cringes. “Maxwell says they’re close but not yet.”
“Go back to sleep and tell him to have a vampire meet us at the nearby world,” Valerian orders. “That or a person with a jar of vampire blood.”
Dylan bites her lip. “I think I know where you’re going with that, and I have bad news. The experts on Gomorrah have done a lot of testing on animals infected with Maxwell’s virus. When given vampire blood before any symptoms, the symptom onset is delayed. But if taken after the symptoms show up, vampire blood actually accelerates the progression of the disease. There’s a reason they have extremely expensive healers keeping Maxwell alive.”