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“No, quite the contrary.” I pushed my plate to the side, unable to stomach another bite and instead opting for more gin. “They care for you, Gaige. They’re worried, and they don’t know what to do.”
“I wasn’t talking about them.”
My spine tensed. “What are you insinuating?”
A defeated sigh escaped his parted lips, and he drained the last of Anahel’s Craft. “I don’t understand you.”
“Then the feeling is mutual.” I didn’t dare move. Didn’t dare pull my gaze off him. I studied every inch of his expression for a sign, for some indicator as to where this was going. But the only thing I saw was bone-deep exhaustion.
“You were upset earlier, at least when we started training.” He dragged his gaze upward, meeting my stare. “It was…different. I’ve never seen you like that.”
It was more hurt than anger but explaining that to him would only open the door for more questions. Questions I didn’t want to answer. “I apologize for that. I let my emotions get the better of me.”
“I just want to know why.” There was a question hidden in the depths of his steely, guarded look, but I wasn’t entirely sure what it was. Being with him was like walking along the edge of a blade. I could tell him the truth, share more of my past with him and see where we landed. Or I could shut him down and protect this feeble heart in my chest. No matter which way I swayed, I was bound to get cut.
“Being back here is difficult for me. There’s a lot of history wrapped up in Moeras, and I let it affect me more than it should have.” I had one good swallow left in my glass, and I contemplated finishing the drink now or waiting to see if this conversation turned more hazardous. Perhaps it would require another round altogether.
He leaned closer across the table, his gloved fingers gently nudging the iron candle fixture in the center. “Then you understand why I can’t go back to Hireath.”
I chewed on this for a moment, letting his words settle deep into my mind. Hireath no doubt was an immense source of pain for him. A place tied to a power he no longer possessed. Yet if my time in Moeras was teaching me anything, it was that bandaging a wound that deep before it was lanced only allowed for it to fester. Maybe the best thing for Gaige was to face the pain, to find somesalve associated with his past so he could finally, finally come to grips with his future. It would be difficult. Immeasurably so. I was only facing my past after decades of time, but Gaige didn’t have that same luxury. He needed to act now.
I finished my drink and set the glass down gently. “Even so, you should go back.”
He revolted so suddenly, so harshly, that it was as if he’d been struck by an invisible beast. Gone was the question in his probing stare, and in its place was nothing more than a look of pure indignation.
Hands gripping to fists, his lips peeled back in a grimace. “Of course you want me to leave, too.”
I frowned. “What? I don’t think you’re—”
“Enough.” He stood quickly, the chair scooching out behind him. “I’m tired, Kost. Leave me out of your rotations tonight. Or were you even planning on asking me to help to begin with?”
My retort died in my throat. Ihadn’tintended to ask him, and he read it plain as day on my face. Not because I didn’t think he was capable, but because I could see what his powers were doing to him. He was a ragged, sleep-deprived mess. Above all else, he needed to rest. If he continued to push himself without giving his body and mind the recovery it needed, he’d have an even more difficult time harnessing the shadows. But before I could explain any of that to him, he left, forcefully parting his way through the crowd to retreat to his room. I stood without thinking and took one step to follow, only to stop at the edge of the table. I’d grown familiar with the sight of his back, with his agitated gait. And we’d both excelled at walking away.
Perhaps it was time to let it simplybe. As I sank back to my chair and stared at my empty tumbler, I felt myself fall off the edge of the blade. It was an endless, tumbling descent that left me rawand weak. I’d suffered so many wounds in my life, both in this one and the one before I died, and none had left me more battered and bruised than this. I’d lost, and I was letting us be lost at the same time. Somehow, I knew in my core that no one could ever live up to Gaige, and letting him slip through my fingers now was better than letting it happen in the future.
Still, it cut like I knew it would. Deep.
ELEVEN
GAIGE
The slender, oblong parcel resting on my nightstand taunted me. Wrapped in sepia parchment and tied with simple twine, it was unassuming enough. The pair of spectacles inside, the ones I’d rushed to find in the small window of opportunity before dinner, were meant to be an olive branch. Now I only wanted to use them as kindling for the unlit fire in my room. But the weather was tepid and there was no need for flames, so I chucked the package at the wall instead. The soft thud as it hit the rug-strewn floor was anything but satisfying.
I was just sotired. Physically, emotionally, mentally. Maybe if I hadn’t deprived myself of sleep for the past day, I would’ve given Kost the chance to explain—or better yet, to backtrack. But hearing him confirm my exact fear, knowing that he wanted me gone, too… I was tired of being a burden. All I did was hurt or scare the people I cared about, and it seemed like the only thing they wanted was to rid themselves of me.
Wrapped up in swirling doubt, I didn’t bother to remove my clothes before falling into bed. I didn’t bother to try to stave off sleep, either. I didn’t have any fight left. All I’d needed was some reassurance. Some belief that I was making progress, and some faiththat these attacks weren’t because of me. Not a single one of them had offered to nip that fear in the bud. Instead, they’d let it sit over us while we ate and then ran away.
And then Kost pushedmeaway.
I couldn’t do it anymore. So I slept. And I didn’t flinch when the world turned into a gray waterfall of mist and shadow, and I once again found my feet on the ebony path of smooth river stones. Without hesitating, I strode forward, determined to face this nightmare head-on. I’d been paralyzed by fear the first time. The second time, I’d forced myself to wake before the stranger could trap me in their clutches. But this time, I’d confront them. I’d make the nightmare end once and for all. I couldn’t control the shadows in my reality, but I would control this.
As determination flooded my body, ink-black tendrils swarmed to me in earnest. They answered my bidding and encircled my fingers before racing ahead of me to cut through the gray expanse like rivers of black. The surrounding, misty vapor had chilled me before, but now all I felt was heat. Every step I took fueled the growing anger in me. No one understood what it was like. No one eventried. Fire pumped through my veins, and I moved forward with a purpose I hadn’t felt in ages.
Trees blurred behind the gray veil of mist, until it suddenly cleared when I reached the black, sandy beach. I strode straight to the ocean’s edge. Like before, a pregnant moon sat low over the horizon, showering the ink-black water in a luminous glow. Sawtooth rocks formed pillars in the sea, and hovering above the choppy waters was a snarling, swirling orb of shadows.
“Come to me.” The orb went still in response, just like before, but this time I wasn’t filled with dread. I was brimming with anticipation. And it knew. Or rather, the person lingering inside that cocoon knew. Because instead of rushing over me in a frenzy, thefloating sphere moved toward me with controlled slowness. When it reached an arm’s length away, the shadows once again revealed the stranger I’d met during my first nightmare. A man with faded-blue eyes rimmed in crimson. A man who looked like me.
His hair—myhair—was unkempt and greasy. Dirt and grime were smeared across his forehead and cheekbones, and the beard clinging to his jaw threatened to tangle with his locks. We shared the same build, the same wild shadows. They continued to rush over him like hungry beasts and kept him suspended in the air. Occasionally, a tendril would go as far as to nick his skin, but he didn’t react. He seemed impervious to it all, and his wounds healed in seconds. Each time his blood was spilt, the shadows quivered and spired higher still, giving the impression he was standing among daggers.
