Chapter 81

"I WAS ATLAS."

"What do you mean?" Pyra asked. Silas sat next to her, staring down at his small hands on the table. "Did you have a bad dream?"

"It was like a dream," Silas said. "I knew it was real, though. I wasn't thinking like me anymore. I was mad and scared, and I was hurt. I wanted to kiss Sal, but I knew she didn't like me that way, whatever that means."

"Sounds like a nightmare to me," said Pyra, gently ruffling his hair. "Sometimes, when we're scared in real life, our dreams can be scary, too. That's all."

"I died," Silas's face was pinched, like he was trying to separate complex mathematical formulae in his head. "Or Atlas did. He was hurt really bad, Pyra. But he was happy. I don't understand."

"Are you sick?" Pyra felt the boy's forehead. His temperature was nothing out of the ordinary. "Atlas is fine. See?"