I turn back to face him. “Finnley…” I question.
He doesn’t take his eyes off whatever he’s looking at. “Do you see what I’m seeing right now?” he asks so low that I can barely hear him. His eyes are wide and panicked.
This is the first time in the entire Asylamation I’ve seen this expression on his face.
Fear.
I turn my head to look again, but I don’t see anything. Just overgrowth and stone. I take careful steps back over to him, walking over broken fragments of rock and slippery moss. I pick up his hand, threading our fingers together.
“I don’t see anything. Are you feeling alright?” I ask, using the back of my other hand to feel his forehead.
“It’s looking right at us,” he whispers, still staring at whatever it is he thinks he sees. I don’t think he’s blinked this entire time.
I squeeze his hand tighter. “There’s nothing there, Finnley, it’s just this place messing with you.”
“Nori, get behind me, and whatever happens, protect your face.”
Protect your face.
I can feel the color drain from the very face he’s instructing me to protect.
I let my eyes roam over his, looking for any hint of a smile or indication he’s messing with me. There’s nothing. Not a single trace of his usual playful nature. It’s as if I’m looking at a version of Finnley I haven’t seen before. The one he hides under his mischievous guise. The one with secrets and suffering that he doesn’t share. TherealFinnley. And there’s only one thing in this realm he would instruct me specifically to protect my face from. The only thing I’d have to shield my mouth from… the thing that devours souls.
Wraiths.
I swallow down the saliva coating the inside of my mouth, drop his hands, and turn to stare back at the spot his determined glare is pinned to.
Nothing. There’s nothing there and certainly not a wraith.
A lump forms in my throat.
He’s losing his mind. Delirious possibly.
We haven’t had anything to drink or eat in I don’t know how long. There’s no sense of time in here. Maybe he’s just dehydrated.
“There’s nothing there, Finnley. I swear to you. You’re just not yourself right now.”
He moves his gaze toward me, his pale eyes narrowing. “I’m not crazy, Nori.”
I squeeze his arm. “I never said you were.”
He drags his eyes forward again, his mouth now pulled into a harsh line.
“I believe you,” I promise. And I do. If he thinks he sees something, then I believe he does in his own mind.
“We’re at a disadvantage without weapons, and fighting our way out on a narrow bridge isn’t going to be easy,” he warns.
I close my eyes and blow out a breath. Ambrose told me to hide the dagger and keep it a secret, but I can’t not tell Finnley. Especially right now when he thinks we’re in a dire situation about to fight for our lives. It feels wrong to keep it from him.
“Actually, we do have one weapon,” I offer, lifting my shoulders in a shrug.
He glances at me, brows drawn. “The academy hasn’t issued any yet. What are you talking about?”
“Well, yes, that’s technically corre—’’
“Nori, get behind me,” he orders while grabbing onto my sleeve and shoving me roughly behind his back. “It’s coming.” He spreads his feet wide and raises his arms, fists clenched in a fighting stance.
Cautiously, I peer around him.
