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“You forget yourself, Shadow Knight. You are still on training. Despite what Successor Roth may think, you are not ready for ranks.”
That’s a blow I didn't see coming.
“Does Successor Roth know you are revoking my rank?”
“Successor Roth has no jurisdiction here until he becomes Luminary, Shadow Knight. Besides, what progress have you made in locating the Eurydice? Perhaps if you had been more prepared when offered your rank, Lily Martin might not be dead.”
The accusation tears through my chest like a scythe—if I'd found the Eurydice sooner, Lily would still be alive.
Problem is, I'm not so sure they're wrong.
I never considered Roth's attention might damn me after graduation, but the fact that I'm only nine months away from placement and I've failed so publicly at this means my goal of becoming a Commander is dead.
I place my fist to my chest and bow my head.
“I accept time to grieve. Thank you, Elite Cain.”
Those are the hardest words I've ever spoken. I turn and leave.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – ANORA & THE FUNERAL
Two days after Lily's death, a memorial is held at Nacoma Knight Academy. A bruised sky emits a constant film of rain. I walk beneath it, uncovered, heels sinking into the Earth.
I didn't go to Chase's funeral, a fact that wasn't received well by anyone at my old school. I succeeded only in appearing insensitive. I knew it would happen but couldn't bring myself to mourn for the boy who had tried to kill me.
But I mourn for Lily. For the friendship we could have had, for the role I played in her death, though I don't understand it. I mourn for her friends, who gather here today, red-eyed and pale.
When I reach the auditorium, my clothes feel like they are glued to my skin. Though the hall is filled with people, it's oddly quiet, and the air smells like must, made stronger by wet feet dampening the carpet. Large bouquets of flowers are positioned at each of the auditorium's two entrances, along with an easel holding a large picture of Lily. I stare at her for a long time, attempting to reconcile the Lily who attacked me two days ago with the one in the picture, but I know they’re not the same.
The one who attacked me was Vera.
I shiver, wondering if something like this can happen again.
“Hey.” Lennon comes up beside me. Her sudden appearance sets me on edge, but I manage to keep a lock on my instinctual reaction to defend myself—that means keeping the thread at bay.
“Hey,” I say.
“This sucks,” Lennon says. “We were just getting to know her.”
“Yeah.”
We're quiet for a moment. I glance at Lennon, and find she's searching the crowd of mourners, too. After a few moments, she elbows me to get my attention. I'm going to have to talk to her about that habit—it's getting on my nerves.
“I think that’s the boy Lily was talking to,” she says, nodding to a guy with two long, black braids. He has high cheekbones and bronzed skin. His full lips are set in a tight line. He keeps his body pressed against the wall, hands folded in front of him. He doesn’t look up from the floor. He must feel so out of place among so many people he doesn’t know and a school who shamed his girlfriend for their relationship.
“His name is Jake Harjo,” Lennon says.
I glance at her. “How do you know?”
“There was more information about him on Roundtable this morning.”
On the day of Lily’s memorial? “That’s horrible,” I say.
“I warned you.”
My gaze shifts back to Jake. He hasn’t moved an inch. I want to approach him so he’s not alone, but what will I say? I wasn’t Lily’s friend and the coins I create had something to do with her death. I would probably just make him more uncomfortable than he already is.
“There's Shy’s parents,” Lennon says, redirecting my attention toward a red-headed woman and a tall man with blond hair and black-framed glasses. They are a gorgeous pair, and it is obvious Shy takes after his dad. Speaking of Shy—where is he?
