“Like earlier. Do it.” His voice has taken on a desperate edge to it. “Just listen.”
“All right.” I sit on the edge of my bed and close my eyes. It takes time, though not as long as before, for me to settle down and focus on Valen. I imagine a ribbon of red between us, some sort of a conduit like an old game of telephone with plastic cups and string.
Are you there? I think the words as if I’m speaking to him.
Silence.
I try again.
Then again.
The line, if there ever was one, is quiet. But there issomethingthere. Like a low current of static, one with a rhythmic pulse to it. Like a … like a heartbeat.
I open my eyes.
“Anything?” Druin asks.
“He’s alive.” I know that’s true somehow. “But I couldn’t get anything else. I’m not sure if?—”
“Fuck!” He turns and slams his fist into the wall, cracking the stone.
“Druin!” I stand quickly.
“Sorry.” He rests his forearm on the wall and hangs his head. “Sorry, Georgia.”
“It’s all right.” I pad over to him and put my hand on his back between his wings. Muscles—ones that don’t exist in human anatomy—ripple beneath my palm. “I get it. But if Valen’s still alive, then there’s a solid chance he’s found Coal. We just have to wait out the day, okay?”
He takes a deep breath and sighs it out.
“You should rest.”
“Can’t.” He shakes his head. “He’s the only family I have left. Without him, Gregor will crush Corvidion as traitors. Coal’s the only thing that’s stopped that from happening.”
“Just try to get some sleep. You’ll need it for when Coal gets back.”
He turns around, his shoulders drooping as he meets my gaze. “I’ll be around, and …”
“What?”
“Your sister—” He groans, the seems to wrestle with what he wants to say. “Look, I don’t like her.” He holds up a hand in a ‘don’t get the wrong idea’ way. “Not even a little. I actually think she’s awful.”
I blink at him. “Okay?”
“But when I would go feed her when she was still in her cell, she asked about you. Every time. Every night I went down there, you were the first thing she’d check on. Wanting to know if you were all right. She’d ask more, trying to think of ways to help you. She helped Melody figure out what food you’d eat, what clothes to get you. She’s insane, don’t get me wrong, but I just wanted you to know you were on her mind. Such as it is.”
I cross my arms over my stomach. He’s not attacking me, not judging me at all, but I still feel defensive. Unsure, too.
“I don’t know if that means anything to you, but I figured … well, she’s the only family you have, so … Anyway.” He glances at the cracked stone. “I’ll fix it later.” Then he leaves, his words about Juno still hanging heavily in the air.
Eyes watering, I grapple with a million unwanted feelings. Nothing is simple. Not even family.Especiallynot family. Running myself a shower, I step into the cold spray as a tiny self-punishment, then wait in the freezing flow until it warms. I can’t fall apart like this, can’t let my emotions get the better of me when I need to keep a level head. But Juno, this new iteration of her, brings out the worst in me. And what I said merely scratched the surface of everything I feel toward her, toward what she’s done. It doesn’t matter if she asked about me every day, I tell myself. It doesn’t change anything, doesn’t fix anything.
What did Melody make of her, I wonder. I wish I could ask her, could get some guidance, could sit with her while she pours me tea and I get irrationally jealous of her gorgeous style.
I rest my forehead against the cold tile and close my eyes. For a brief fraction of a second, I miss the times when I didn’t know Juno had survived. Mourning her was easier when I thought she was gone, when whatever recriminations I had for her would go unspoken, unrequited. A selfish thought, but one that’s there all the same.
Once I’ve sulked for long enough, the steam of the shower hiding me from everything except my thoughts, I get out and wrap my hair in a towel. I swipe the fog from the mirror over the sink, then study my face. Blue circles under my eyes, freckles faded, skin pale—I’m a ghost of my old self. A husk like the creatures trapped several floors below. I let the glass fog again.
“Ugh.” I dig out my clothes and get dressed, then plop down on my bed.
