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CHAPTER THIRTY – SHY & THE AFTERMATH
I’ve seen the inside of Elite Cain’s office more times in the last month than I have since I took an Oath to become a Shadow Knight at twelve. The marble presses into my skin, and my arms sting where Lily’s nails pierced it.
I am in so much trouble.
We all are—me, Natalie, Jacobi, and he’s not even conscious.
An innocent kid died tonight and Lily’s corpse was reanimated with her soul—a soul that was subsequently shattered. Anora was trying to help, but her ignorance about her powers means Lily is tethered to this world in pieces, pieces that can never be reclaimed. Someone’s going to have to tell Lily’s father. How many people in the world have to experience the death of their daughter twice? My chest hurts.
I sag against the cold marble. It’s an awkward angle, but I don’t care because it’s the only thing I feel at the moment, and it’s the only thing grounding me to this spot.
Beside me, Natalie leans forward, elbows on her knees. Her eyes glisten. I haven’t seen her cry often, but tonight did us all in. There are things we’d seen on our patrols—monsters and soul stealing and dead bodies, but never the horror of this night, and we weren’t trained enough to handle any of it. We fumbled about like idiots trying to take down a resurrected Valryn. Lily had the memory of her training from her time as a Knight but she had none of the humanity.
Jacobi was taken to the infirmary barely breathing. He looked dead.
Please, Charon, don’t take another one of my friends.
Elite Cain bangs into his office, throwing open the doors. Natalie and I get to our feet and salute.
“Probation!” he yells. “All of you, including the unconscious one! Probation until I say otherwise and I’ll tell you it isn’t looking like you’ll get off in the next year.”
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I try not to flinch. I’ve never seen Elite Cain angry.
“What the hell were you all thinking? As soon as you saw the situation you should have alerted your superiors. None of you were equipped to handle this. Now we have a dead kid and I have to tell Commander Martin his daughter will never know Spirit. Careless!”
We keep our heads bowed, feeling lower than low. Worse is, we both know he’s right.
God, my chest hurts. It’s like it’s split in two—one side pounds with anxiety, the other with fear.
“Who wants to tell me what happened first?” Cain asks, but it’s not a question, it’s a demand.
It’s not often I’m unable to speak, but I’m ashamed and afraid. I keep my jaw pressed tight so my chin doesn’t tremble.
“We learned Anora Silby was kidnapped. When we finally found her, she was fighting a resurrected Lily,” Natalie says. “The boy—Jake—was already dead. We just wanted to get Anora out of there.”
“Was that before or after you learned she was the Eurydice?”
Neither of us speak. As far as Elite Cain is concerned, we all learned Anora was the Eurydice tonight. If he finds out it happened any other way, probation could turn into suspension, and I don’t think Anora’s safe among the Order with Roth as Luminary.
“Before tonight I’d have said you were both the best of your class. Now, I realize my mistake. You have so much to learn. I’m releasing you to your parents. Go.”
Our gazes shift toward the door where both of our fathers stand still and at attention. Natalie moves first, her dad gestures to have her exit in front of him. Then I’m left under my father’s cold gaze.
“Infirmary,” he says.
The medic cleans and bandages the scratches on my arm and a set on my face I didn’t noticed until she starts spraying my cheek with sanitizer. Dad has stepped out to make a phone call. I can hear the timbre of his voice through the curtain. He’s talking to Mom, describing the scene—one human dead, Jacobi injured and unconscious, Natalie and I bruised up but okay, and Anora. He doesn’t mention our punishments, just says we’re all okay. While he doesn’t indicate when he’ll be home, he does say in the sincerest voice that he loves her.
As the call ends, the medic finishes up and switches places with my father. His presence fills the small, curtained compartment to bursting.
Before, I always thought my father never gave me the benefit of the doubt, but now I feel like maybe he’s been right all along. Maybe I am just an idiot.
“How long have you known Anora Silby was the Eurydice?” he asks.
I look at my wrist, pretending to read the time and say, “Three hours.”
“Don’t you dare lie to me,” he says, and the threat in his voice makes me cold.
