Neeve seems to take that as enough, the corner of her mouth lifting just enough to crease the skin around her gold nose ring. Then she gives my arm a quick squeeze and turns to walk off.
“Oh—hey, Neeve.” I quickly call after her. She slows, her long braid swaying as she glances back. “About Darren, the position... It wasn't me, Merrin?—”
“Look, it’s okay.” She cuts in gently, but her smile’s gone now. “Don’t worry about that right now. Let’s get Ezzy settled.” Then before I can respond, she slips around the corner and disappears.
Back in the tent, Ezzy’s lying down facing away from me now. The duck and Rowan’s letter rest beside her on the upturned crate.
Careful not to disturb her, I lower myself onto my mattress opposite as Ahria lets out a low rumble. I glance over to where she’s curling herself up in Talen’s jacket, but my attention quickly falls back to Ezzy.
God, it’s not only Finn and Rowan she’s lost, it’s her family, her home, her little sister, her whole identity.
My chest locks up, breath catching, and a tear lands on the back of my hand before I even register I'm crying.
“Hey Bloom,” My head jerks around to see Lucien peeking through the tent flap. “Time for another ride before I head back?”
Reacting fast, I drag my sleeve across my face and force the ache back down. “Sure... I’ll be out in a minute.”
Lucien nods, disappearing from view, and I lean down, reaching for my pack beneath the bed, but my hand latches around something else instead.
The Letter-threader.
Talen would be back at the Citadel by now and all I have to do is pick it up, talk to him, like I said I would. Like I wanted to.
But I don’t move. Can’t.
I thought I was ready, that I could finally let everything go. Accept his choices. Mine.
Squeezing my eyes shut, my grip around the device tightens.
Stupid.
I deserve this.I need this.The silence, the way Ezzy won’t even look at me, the guilt sitting heavy on my chest—I need itbecause if I let it all go, then what? Ezzy stays here in pieces and I get to move on? Like none of my actions cost anything?
No, I can’t let that happen.
And he messes with that—Talen messes with that.
Because the second I talk to him, really talk to him, I don’t get to keep it simple anymore. I'll understand him. I’ll accept the things he’s done—and then I’ll have to look at myself the same way, and if I do that the anger cracks, the guilt softens and suddenly Rowan’s death cost me nothing.
Lifting my head, I open my eyes, finding the steady rise and fall of Ezzy’s chest across from me, then I let go of the Letter-threader, grab my pack instead, and push out of the tent to find Lucien.
“Okay, everyone,”Magda calls out the following morning, clapping her hands once, and the Briefing Tent falls silent. “This is Lyra, a second year cadet from the Citadel, and the lead for all you new recruits.”
She looms at my side, tall enough to command the space on her own, but not a single pair of eyes stays on her. Instead, the attention of about twenty dismissive Innerlanders—and one unimpressed rat-sized green dragon—slides right past her and lands squarely on me.
Shit. I’m not going to lie, I thought about staying in bed this morning, I’m so out of my depth and I know Darren would be way better at leading than me. But that’s exactly why I can’t step back, because if I do, nothing changes. I stay exactly where I am, and when the time comes to face Serrane, I won’t be ready—and then what? More people die because of me.
No. I can’t let that happen.
At the front, Neeve flashes me an optimistic, encouraging smile that doesn’t even touch the edges of my nerves, while beside her, Ezzy sits motionless, staring straight ahead.
I’m surprised she came. I want to say I convinced her, but that’s not true. Convincing means she had a say in it, and she still hasn’t spoken, hasn’t even looked at me since she woke yesterday. She just does whatever I ask, like it doesn’t matter either way.
“Now, some of you arrived this week,” Magda continues, “others have been here for months and Lyra may be from the Outerlands—but all of you have something to learn from her.”
Outerlands.
The word hits the room like a stone through glass and the dismissive looks already aimed my way harden. Murmurs ripple between the benches as recruits exchange glances, disbelief quickly giving way to outrage.
