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“She shares everything with you.” Her voice is tinged with jealousy.
“Not that.” Lily and I have a don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy. It’s a safety measure for situations just like this.
Lily is one of Natalie’s closest friends but they’d become distant over the summer. If I had to guess, I’d say that’s when her relationship with the human began. Lily probably didn’t want to face Natalie’s judgment.
“It isn’t like I could have kept her from seeing him, anyway.”
“She should have known better.”
“And you wonder why Lily won’t talk to you? The righteous prophet.”
“Don’t be an asshole, Shy. You know the rules just as well as me. This is serious.”
I know it’s serious, but you can’t tell me Lily’s the first Valryn to mess around with a human. She just got caught. Now she’ll have to face the Elites and her father, who is a Commander like mine. She will be questioned about the relationship and forced to give details that will only add to her shame. The “severity” of her “disobedience” will determine her punishment, which will range anywhere from probation to exile.
The embarrassment of having her relationship advertised on Roundtable is all extra.
The details of Lily’s relationship aren’t for me to speculate, and I’m not going to be the one to ask Lily how far things went. She is going to get enough of that just as soon as the Order becomes aware of her...transgressions.
Just using that word feels like a betrayal in itself.
Entering Covington is like stepping back in time. The walls alternate between dark wood panels and white stucco. The ceilings are arched, exposing decorative woodwork. As I top the stairs leading to the first floor, I turn to the right and head downstairs. The girl’s restroom is directly to the left of the stairwell. I knock on the door and call, “Lily! It’s Shy. Open up!”
I pause for a moment, giving her a chance to answer. Just as I start to knock again, the door opens and Lily appears. Her eyes are watery and swollen. Her usually clear skin is red and patchy, and she holds a shaky hand over her mouth and nose.
Seeing her like this makes everything in my chest hurt—my heart, lungs and throat.
“Shy—” her voice breaks, and I pull her to me, turning so her back is to Natalie, who stands aside, hugging herself, looking very much alone.
“It’s going to be okay.”
Lily buries her head in my chest and my shirt soaks through with tears and snot and saliva.
We stand like this for a long while and when Lily finally pulls away, Natalie has left.
“I should go,” she says quietly, not meeting my gaze as she wipes her swollen face with the back of her hands. She takes a deep breath that trembles as she exhales and then says, “I didn’t sleep with him.”
“I wouldn’t care if you did.”
She smiles but it doesn’t touch her eyes. “Sometimes I don’t want to be what we are.”
I nod. “I know.”
There are definitely days when I hate what I am—yesterday was one of them.
Lily takes a deep breath and retrieves her bag.
I offer to walk her to class, but she insists on going alone. As I approach Emerson, Vera’s empty noose remains overhead and I’m reminded of my reason for arriving early today: Vera is not present over the doors of the building. Her rounds are like clockwork—she hangs until ten and then wanders until school ends at three. I turn and move toward the woods nearest Emerson, sliding my backpack off my shoulder, I shift into my raven form, flying the path Vera takes through the woods, straying from time to time to check thicker brush, but do not find her.
Not that I expected to—I’ve mostly been hoping. A missing soul isn’t good, but there are a number of reasons she might be gone. It is no secret Vera is an old spirit, and her energy attracts all sorts of creatures—what if she summoned a darkling beyond the power of our barrier? Or a death-speaker decided to harness her energy for some dark purpose of their own? There is a third possibility, but with Roth so close to becoming Luminary, I don’t want to consider it. Not yet.
I’m not looking forward to my next move. I’m going to have to ask Natalie if she noticed Vera missing, and whether she reported it to the Order, something that is going to open the floor for interrogation—she’s going to want to know where I was last night. When I pulled up this morning to find Natalie waiting for me in the parking lot, that’s what I expected.
At lunch, I get my answer. Natalie and I are called to the Compound. There are a plethora of reasons we might be summoned—all things that happened in the timespan of the last twenty-four hours. All things the Order would only know about because Natalie reported them. I drive with the windows rolled down because the air in the cabin of my Jeep is stretched and suffocating, plus, the wind keeps conversation at bay for as long as possible, until Natalie takes the liberty of rolling the windows up.
She inhales a few times—the beginning of a sentence poised on the tip of her tongue. She’s working up courage. When the words finally come out, they rasp, as if lodge at the back of her throat.
“Where were you last night?” Natalie asks.
