Ezzy’s white-blonde brows furrow. “Hey! It’s not boring.”
“You know what I—” Neeve starts, but stops herself as she spots Darren up ahead, leaning against a support pole outside one of the smaller storage tents.
He’s been gone for a few days and exhaustion clings to his face, but the second he spots her his whole expression shifts. His tired eyes brighten and a slow smirk tugs at his mouth as he throws her a wink before tipping his head toward the empty tent behind him.
“Sorry, uh,” Neeve mutters, not taking her attention off him. “I’ll catch you both up in five, no make that ten minutes.”
Before I get the chance to tease her, she’s already moving. Ever since she told Darren she wasn’t entering Blood Moon, something between them has eased. Less fighting, and definitely a lot more sex.
I still hear her waking in the middle of the night, though; the dreams must be getting worse now that the ceremony is only six days away. She tries to hide it, but I know she’s suffering, I know she must be in pain.
Darren’s hands settle around her waist the second she reaches him, and he doesn’t waste a minute, turning and pulling her into the tent before letting the canvas flap fall shut behind them.
Jealousy rises hot and fast as I catch myself wishing it was Talen dragging me away instead and I bite down on my bottom lip as I think about his note from this morning, about his hands, those beautiful fucking hands, but the thought is cut short as beside me Ezzy lets out a long sigh.
“He looks so much like Rowan.” Her voice cracks around the name.
Taking her cold hand, I give it a small squeeze.
“I know.” I reply gently.
She squeezes back. “I miss him.”
“Me too.”
After another few breaths she lets go and we continue walking toward the Food Tent.
Moments later, a blur of brown shoots between us followed by a flash of green as Ahria darts after Nex, Darren’s dragon, both of them beelining for the tent only to slam to a stop in front of the canvas flap Magda and I tied shut last night. The smug, satisfied feeling that flows over me lasts all of five seconds before Ahria opens her mouth and blasts the rope with fire. It drops tothe ground in a smoking heap and both dragons shove their way inside.
For fuck’s sake.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I turn back to Ezzy. Her sparkly hairpin catches the rising sun as she walks with her head down, nudging a small pebble along the ground with the toe of her boot.
Last night I gave her the letter Rowan wrote to me, so she could read it too, the one where he admitted he was a Loomreader, and I still can’t stop wondering if she already knew.
“Did you know?” I murmur cautiously. Over the last few days she’s been talking more and the last thing I want is for her to disappear back into herself again. “Did you know Rowan was a Loomreader?”
For a few more steps she continues knocking the stone, and I start to regret even opening my mouth, but then she lets the stone roll away and looks up.
“No.” She shakes her head slowly. “But looking back now, when I was younger and my magic was less stable, I think he used to test it on me sometimes. It’s hard to be a Loomreader without people noticing eventually. Reading someone’s Threads like that...” She trails off for a second. “It doesn’t only exhaust the Loomreader. The person being read feels it too, especially if their magic is trained. You’d notice something.”
“Probably why I didn’t notice,” I snort. “He read my Threads when I first arrived at the Citadel, back when my magic was still completely feral.” Exhaling through my nose, my breath mists in the icy air. “Honestly, he probably saw my entire future and regretted touching me immediately. Poor guy.”
Beside me, Ezzy’s lip twitches. Not quite a smile, but close enough that despite the cold biting at my cheeks, warmth still spreads through my chest.
Every day it feels like she’s getting a little better, but this morning Finn’s duck was gone. I think she must have hidden it, tired of seeing it beside her bed all the time, tired of the reminder. I can’t blame her.
Stepping over the charred remains of the failed rope, I lift the canvas flap to the Food Tent and turn back to her. “We’ll find him... Finn. I promise.”
She nods once before slipping inside.
That night,when I finally get back to the tent, I grab the pencil and notebook and reply to Talen.
“It’s hard being away from you. I miss those hands. — L x”
After burning the note away, I sit there for a while longer, staring at the dim glow of the Letter-threader, half expecting another reply to come immediately, but nothing does. Makes sense; he’s probably already asleep.
The next morning I check before the birds have even woken but the fire doesn’t return anything.
