Hollow City

The others considered this. Finally Millard said, “Very wisely put, Miss Bloom.”

“Miss Peregrine knows best!” cheered Olive.

“Miss Peregrine knows best!” echoed Hugh.

“I don’t care what Miss Peregrine says,” said Horace. “I’ll fight.”

Enoch choked back a laugh. “You?”

“Everyone thinks I’m a coward. This is my chance to prove them wrong.”

“Don’t throw your life away because of a few jokes made at your expense,” said Hugh. “Who gives a whit what anyone else thinks?”

“It isn’t just that,” said Horace. “Remember the vision I had back on Cairnholm? I caught a glimpse of where the ymbrynes are being kept. I couldn’t show you on a map, but I’m sure of this—I’ll know it when I see it.” He tapped his forehead with his index finger.

“What I’ve got up here might just save those chaps a heap of trouble. And save those other ymbrynes, too.”

“If some fight and some stay behind,” said Bronwyn, “I’ll protect whoever stays. Protecting’s always been my vocation.”

And then Hugh turned to me and said, “What about you, Jacob?” and my mouth went instantly dry.

“Yeah,” said Enoch. “What about you?”

“Well,” I said, “I …”

“Let’s take a walk,” Emma said, hooking her arm around mine. “You and I need to have a chat.”

*   *   *

We walked slowly down the stairs, saying nothing to each other until we’d reached the bottom and the curved wall of ice where Althea had frozen shut the exit tunnel. We sat together and looked into the ice for a long while, at the forms trapped there, blurred and distorted in the darkening light, suspended like ancient eggs in blue amber. We sat, and I could tell from the silence collecting between us that this was going to be a hard conversation—one neither of us wanted to start.

Finally Emma said, “Well?”

I said, “I’m like the others—I want to know what you think.”

She laughed in the way people do when something’s not funny but awkward, and said, “I’m not entirely sure you do.”

She was right, but I prodded her to speak anyway. “Come on.”

Emma laid a hand on my knee, then retracted it. She fidgeted. My chest tightened.

“I think it’s time you went home,” she said finally.

I blinked. It took a moment to convince myself she’d really said it. “I don’t understand,” I mumbled.

“You said yourself you were sent here for a reason,” she said quickly, staring into her lap, “and that was to help Miss Peregrine. Now it seems she may be saved. If you owed her any debts, they’re paid. You helped us more than you’ll ever realize. And now it’s time for you to go home.” Her words came all in a rush, like they were a painful thing she’d been carrying a long time, and it was a relief to finally be rid of them.

“This is my home,” I said.

“No, it isn’t,” she insisted, looking at me now. “Peculiardom is dying, Jacob. It’s a lost dream. And even if somehow, by some miracle, we were to take up arms against the corrupted and prevail, we’d be left with a shadow of what we once had; a shattered mess. You have a home—one that isn’t ruined—and parents who are alive, and who love you, in some measure.”

“I told you. I don’t want those things. I chose this.”

“You made a promise, and you’ve kept it. And now that’s over, and it’s time for you to go home.”

“Quit saying that!” I shouted. “Why are you pushing me away?”

“Because you have a real home and a real family, and if you think any of us would’ve chosen this world over those things—wouldn’t have given up our loops and longevity and peculiar powers long ago for even a taste of what you have—then you really are living in a fantasy world. It makes me absolutely ill to think you might throw that all away—and for what?”

“For you, you idiot! I love you!”

I couldn’t believe I’d said it. Neither could Emma—her mouth had fallen open. “No,” she said, shaking her head like she could erase my words. “No, that’s not going to help anything.”

“But it’s true!” I said. “Why do you think I stayed instead of going home? It wasn’t because of my grandfather or some stupid sense of duty—not really—or because I hated my parents or didn’t appreciate my home and all the nice things we had. I stayed because of you!”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, just nodded and then looked away and ran her hands through her hair, revealing a streak of white concrete dust I hadn’t noticed before, which made her look suddenly older. “It’s my own fault,” she said finally. “I should never have kissed you. Perhaps I made you believe something that wasn’t true.”

That stung me, and I recoiled instinctively, as if to protect myself. “Don’t say that to me if you don’t mean it,” I said. “I may not have a lot of dating experience, but don’t treat me like some pathetic loser who’s powerless in the face of a pretty girl. You didn’t make me stay. I stayed because I wanted to—and because what I feel for you is as real as anything I’ve ever felt.” I let that hang in the air between us for a moment, feeling the truth of it. “You feel it too,” I said. “I know you do.”