“He only sleeps lightly, when he sleeps. But he fell asleep in the carriage with you. He trusted you enough for that.”
“He was wounded,” I said quietly. “And Yue was driving the carriage. You were outside.”
“Do you think I’d give you a compliment you hadn’t earned?”
I opened my mouth, closed it again. “Not even at swordpoint.”
Galen nodded. “Then take the compliment and keep it in mind. Put him and her in the same situation, and I think he’d have kept his eyes open, one way or the other. So be careful, Fox. If not for you, then for him.”
He walked away.
I stood staring, shocked that Galen had admitted that to me, flattered to learn of the prince’s trust, and wondering what the hell I was supposed to do about it.
I was losing faith that I’d find a secret trove of Aetheric answers in the library. But maybe I could find the answers—and the practitioner—another way.
The practitioner and I had both opened doorways into the Aetheric. Maybe, if I could manage to open a doorway again, I could find himthroughthe Aetheric. I didn’t think the odds were good, but trying was better than sitting around.
It was warm, so I opened the window and stood for a moment in the breeze. I was a little worried the Aetheric might put me on the floor again, so I started off there. I sat cross-legged and closed my eyes. I thought of Luna, of the River of Souls, of the endless stars and the gentle, persistent heartbeat. And Ithought of the corridor that links our realms, and tried to imagine reaching it, unlocking it, revealing it.
I hadn’t felt pain since Luna’s last visit. But the warmth in my chest—that hidden ember—flared now, bringing with it a soft, insistent pain that tried to drag away my attention. I ignored it, thought of the corridor again, opened myself to the possibility of the Aetheric.
And somehow, despite my lack of skill, the Aetheric responded.
“Hi,” I said quietly, in case anyone could hear me. “I’m looking for the Aetheric practitioner. If you can tell me where he is, maybe we can stop him, and he won’t hurt Anima anymore.”
I waited, hoping one of the stars I’d seen in the Aether might respond. But I saw nothing and heard nothing other than the Aetheric’s heartbeat.
Maybe if I stretched a bit further…I concentrated, imagining myself traveling down the bridge between our worlds. Through darkness to a suddenly brilliant light, strong as the sun and dazzling as cut glass. I shielded my eyes, and the light faded. And when I looked around again, I was standing in a field with darkness arcing above me. Not the kind of darkness that hid nightmares, but that held stars firm in the sky. It was scattered with the light of a thousand spirits not yet ready for Oblivion. The collected souls of those who’d lived and died in Carethia and beyond, now gathered amid tall and waving grass that glimmered with frost and stretched to infinity.
I exhaled, and my breath froze in the air. But there was no air in the Aetheric. No grass. No sky. Just…awareness.
“This is the image your mind has created,” said a voice beside me.
I looked over and found a man in a cloak the same blue-black as the sky, his face shielded from view.
“How am I here?” I asked.
“Your body is in your realm. Your soul is visiting. A good trick.”
“Thank you, but it wasn’t on purpose. I was trying to find someone. Are you an Anima?”
“No. I’m not so lucky.”
“How are you here if you aren’t an Anima?”
“I’m not entirely sure. What’s your name?”
“Fox. What’s your name?”
“I’m not sure I have one.”
“I have to call you something.”
“Then make one for me.”
“How about…Lochryn. That’s a good name. Old-fashioned, but solid.”
“Very well.”
