I expected the girls to run, to rush for the door.
Take the chance. But they didn’t. Instead they ran toher. They chose her. They chose to stay. I didn’t understand. I couldn’t.
I hated how someone could be broken into choosing to stay in a cage.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
“What did youdoto her?”
The moon hung cold above us as we stepped out of the theatre.
“I… I don’t know.”
The words rang false, even to me. I did know. I knew exactly what I had done. I had felt her heart flutter in my mind, frantic and fragile. And I had crushed it. Not hard enough to stop it. Just enough to remind her she could bleed.
“That wasn’t anything like what you did in the alley,” Kalani argued, shaking her head. “That was… something else.” She looked at me. “What else can you do?”
I flinched at her question, but I realized it wasn’t interrogation. She wasn’t scared, she was intrigued. And I didn’t know what to do with it.
Theinterest.
"You should see the fire! Oh, and the glowy water thing she does!" Aran grinned wide, mimicking the flow of water with exaggerated circles of his hands. The knot inside me twisted tighter. It hadn’t just been another trick, another thing I could do. It had been too easy. All the grief and anger and hurt I had buried just waiting for a door to kick open. And I had opened it without even thinking.
“So…” Will started. “Norhavn. Anyone heard of it?” He glanced at Kalani, looking for anything useful, and her expression shifted. She folded her arms against herself, like a small shield.
“I remember Mother threatening to send us to ‘Hel’,” she said. “I didn’t think it was a real place. I thought it meant they’d kill us if we stepped out of line.” She swallowed. “This… this might be worse.”
“Worse than death?” Aran asked.
Kalani gave a small nod, her eyes fixed on the ground.
“Licia really ended up in the worst place on earth, huh?” Will muttered.
“We’re gonna need more knives,” Aran said, pulling one from his pocket.
I looked at all of them. Will’s jaw was clenched, as usual, his whole body coiled like he was one breath away from breaking. Kalani stood stiff, arms crossed so tight it had to hurt. And Aran just looked… spent. Bitter and hollow, like whatever fire was left in him had burned down to ash. The adrenaline was wearing off, and all that was left was the ache.
“Let’s go find somewhere to sleep,” Will said.
We found a small inn a few streets down. Warm light spilled through its windows. Out on the street, people walked in groups, laughing, dressed in beautiful clothes, under the glow of the lanterns.
For a moment, I wanted to join them. Slip into the light. Lose myself in the noise and pretend I was someone else. Forget about Licia. Forget about magic and monsters and the tight, cold knot living in my chest.
Just for one night.
But I didn’t get to pretend.
“This will do,” Will said, already pushing the door open. The innkeeper was an older woman with soft hands and quick eyes. She didn’t ask questions, just handed us two keys with a smile. Will and Aran took one room, Kalani and I took the other. There were two beds, one table, and a pair of chairs. Nothing special, but Kalani practically collapsed into the bed.
Outside, the world kept spinning. Voices still laughed out in the street, music drifted under the windows.
I couldn’t sleep. I wouldn’t sleep. I never took the moon drops because none of it felt right. Me sleeping in a warm bed, safe and sound, while girls were sold and abused just a couple of streets over. The sheets were suffocating, twisting around my legs like they wanted to keep me there. I shoved them off, but it didn’t help. My skin was hot, my chest tight. My mind wouldn’t stop, everything was just so loud inside me.
I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Kalani. She hadn’t moved, curled on her side like a question mark. She looked so different from earlier, in that alley. Almost peaceful in her sleep. I wished good dreams for her, before easing the door open. I made my way down the stairs, each step groaning under my weight like it wanted to rat me out. Not that I wasn't allowed to go outside. I was. Maybe it was all the years of constantly having to ask permission to go out, or the curfew put in place in Vestance, that made the act of being alone beneath the stars feel rebellious.
Like a silent act of war.
Golden light spilled from lanterns strung above the street and people moved through it like something out of a story, couples dancing beneath the moon, dresses swaying, hands held tight, and soft smiles. I stood there for a moment, then sank onto the stone steps just outsidethe door. Cold seeped into my hands as I curled my fingers against the edge of the step.
