I left him standing alone in the library, his gaze fixated on the hand I’d been holding.
Eighteen
Moonlight peeked through a slit in my curtains, and I turned on my side to stare at the pale shaft illuminating the dark layout of my room. It’d been hours since I retired, and sleep had been fitful. Anxiety had crept back into my blood, and with it came thoughts that refused to be stymied. I was stuck in an endless loop of what-ifs: What if my brothers hated me for going to the fete? What if I couldn’t find the blade? What if I endangered Seville or the others? What if I couldn’t defeat Death? What if Rorik refused to help? What if he truly hated me deep down? My stomach tightened at that last thought, and I dragged a pillow over my face. I had half a mind to leap out of bed and storm down the hall, right to his room, and bang on his door until he opened up. Because there was absolutely no way this endless, chest-tightening unease was all my doing.
I slipped in and out of dreams fraught with ants marching in a perpetual loop across blight-ridden ground. They’d sink into yellow loam and black tar only for their brethren to stomp right over them. Never faltering. Always lost. I stood in the center of the mill, unable to move or find a way out. And my brothers stood by on the side. They watched with disapproving eyes and tight grimaces, while Amalyss and Tasia stood across from them and sobbed.
I couldn’t make anyone happy. Least of all Rorik. He crouched before me with his arms pressed against his knees and his fingers braided together. He was saying something, but I couldn’t make out the words. They were lost in a rattling, wheezing wind, and I realized it was my breath. My hand had flown to my chest at the same time my nightmare shifted.
Death.
My heart hammered in my throat at the sight of the cloaked visage. There was nothing where his face should have been, just an endless void of black shrouded by a cloak. He stood alone on an island made of glass, with inky water lapping against the jagged shoreline. He didn’t move. But somehow, I knew he was watching. Somehow, I knew I held his stare.
Edira.The rasp lingered for far too long in my ears, and I’d jolted awake for the final time. There was no going back to sleep after that.
Clesian left at first light with Lydia by his side to meet with his emissary friend, and the rest of us met for breakfast as soon as they activated the ley line and disappeared. The dining hall was mostly quiet, save for a murmured conversation—punctuated by the occasional giggle—between Noam and Lysa. Nohr sat beside them, his fork dawdling above scrambled eggs. Seville had a small platter of assorted fruits in front of her and was pondering a few different selections of fabric in her lap. Apparently, she already had plans on visiting Mrs. Marlow to make adjustments to our garments. Tasia and Amalyss sat beside her, offering their own inputs whenever Seville permitted, and then there was Rorik.
He sat at the head of the table, his locks glossy, and chewed on bacon while silently studying the table. When his gaze found mine, he lowered his brows.
You look tired,his thoughts pushed into my mind, and I resisted the urge to sigh out loud.
You know, no one likes being told they look tired.
His lips curled slightly.What would you have me say, then?
Preferably something nice.I brushed my thumb against my lips to swipe away stray crumbs from my toast.
Nice?He bit into his food, never once breaking eye contact with me.Hm. I could tell you how nice it looks to see your mouth—
“You two aren’t even speaking and I’m somehow disgusted,” Nohr grumbled as he shoved his plate away from him. Noam and Lysa immediately stopped whispering, and all gazes bounced from Rorik to me.
“Nohr,” I exclaimed. “Was that really necessary?”
“I don’t know, Edira, is any of this necessary?” He gestured lamely at the house and leveled me with a withering look. “I guess thishomefar outshines ours.”
Slamming my hands on the table, I stood up. “What has gotten into you?”
“Call it a rude awakening.” He shook his head. “I just thought you’d come back for good, but now you’ve dragged us here.”
“It’s only for a short while. For yoursafety,” I said.
“And after?” His grin was sharp enough to make an Ever proud. “When things are settled and we don’t have to worry about yet another Ever threat, will you finally come home?”
Words faltered on my tongue, and my gaze flicked to Rorik. His expression was carefully blank, and his entire body stilled.
Nohr grimaced. “I didn’t realize your life with us was so horrid.”
Rage began to fester within me. “What would you have me do, Nohr? Stay behind and take care of you forever? What if I wanted to take care of myself for once?” My voice cracked as heat pricked at the backs of my eyes. “My time is limited.”
“And you’re supposed to spend that time with us!” He stood up and kicked the chair out from behind him. Lysa gasped as Noam reached for his brother. Nohr shoved his hand away. “We’reyour family, Edira. No one else.”
A suffocating weight settled in my chest as I watched him storm out of the dining room. “Nohr,” I whispered. A tear slipped from my eye.
“It’s all right, Edira. I’ll talk to him.” Noam stood and wrapped me in a hug. “He’s just worried. He doesn’t want to lose you. None of us do.” Lysa came around the table and wound her arms around me, too. After a breath, they both released me.
“Why don’t we have a picnic today?” Tasia said. She glanced at Amalyss, who nodded her fervent agreement, and Tasia tilted her chin in the direction of the front lawns. “Nohr likes horses, right? We don’t have those, exactly, but some really wonderful stags. Maybe their presence will help remind him of home a bit?”
Lysa beamed. “That’s a wonderful idea.”
