“Ever, Lyle’s been banished,” Kyra states. “It’s not that easy.”
“It is. I thought she’d fight with me. For me. Like she did before.” Lyle’s eyes lock on Kalan’s and fill with a hatred I’m used to seeing from my father. “I thought it would be different now I’m back. Seems I’m wrong. Again.” Ever glances at Kalan, which is the flame to Lyle’s temper, ready to burn just as hot as Ever’s.
“Don’t you dare look at him. He is the reason we are all here. His lies, his deception, spouting his loyalties to you as if he has the right to claim you as his own. He,” she steps forward, wielding a metal spoon in his direction, “could have told us the truth. We could have prepared. We could?—”
“Stop!” Ever slams her hands on the table, and as she does, shadows bloom from her hands as if wisps of dark were trapped under them, now seeking to banish the light as they snuff out the candles dotted around the room.
Darkness closes in around us, as if every drop of light is ripe for picking by Ever’s shadows.
I inch my hand closer to hers on the table, brushing it with my thumb, willing her to release the hold on her rage and take a beat.
My own power caresses against hers, as if trying to calm her.
Slowly, the light returns. Not from the candles, but the gloom of the night, filtering back in from outside, and giving us the shadowy outline of our bodies standing motionless in the kitchen.
“I’m… I’m going to go to bed.” Ever rushes from the kitchen as Kyra strikes a match, dousing the room with a soft glow from the bright flame and banishing what’s left of the dark.
“What was that?” Calix asks, looking right for me.
“I don’t know.” It’s the truth.
We all turn to Kalan, as if he can provide an explanation. He might not know Ever, but he is the only one who knew her parents. And he’s spent plenty of time with Fenix and the Usher.
“We don’t know what’s happening with Ever. She’s a Fifth. Their magic is often restless, and after what happened, maybe only Ever really knows.”
“What. Does. That. Mean?” Lyle throws her words as if they were knives at Kalan, emphasising each one.
“It means that there’s a reason the Court and the Chamber have always feared Fifths. There’s a reason the Usher has been syphoning off the history texts, and there’s a reason why he’s waited until there are the firstborn twin Fifth’s in our histories. I’d reason that Ever’s stronger than she knows, and that night…” he looks at me, “we still don’t know what happened.”
“What aren’t you telling us?” Calix asks.
“Nothing. We don’t know what happened, I promise.”
“Fine. But you have an idea, a theory?” He turns to Kalan. “Come on, man. You’ve held onto all the secrets. All the information. My sister died, and you’re still fucking with us. Times up.” Calix stands, his own chair grating on the stone floor.
“War is coming.” His voice booms over us all, but Calix doesn’t flinch. “We’ll need Ever to realise her capabilities before the end, so let’s focus on getting her back to Kirrasia and let her have that talk with the Maker.” Kalan shoves past Calix and leaves the kitchen.
Seconds tick on, but the weight of those words doesn’t lessen. One by one, we all disband for the night, and I’m glad to retreat to find Ever.
She’s already in bed when I reach her room, and I’m happy to close the door behind me and lock us away. The mood is a shift from just a few hours ago, and now I’m glad we took our opportunity to be us—even if it was for only a few hours.
I don’t care where the others will sleep, we need this. Ever needs this.
“Did you hear much of that?” I ask.
“A little. I don’t want to talk about it.”
I toe off my boots and pull the shirt from my head, before shoving my trousers down.
I lie on my side and slide one hand under the pillow and face her.
“Where’s your knife?” She gestures to my hands, and I’m shot back into the memory of the first time we spent the night together, back in my room at my parents’ apartment. Now we’re on the switch side. Her room. Her parent, or the closest thing she has to one.
Despite what’s happened between us, there’s no space for simply being us. The air is stained, thick with grief and hardships, a testament to the hard-won freedom we have right this second.
“I left it with Crimson before we burned her body.”
“Why?” She looks up at me with questions in her eyes.
