Astra
Hale left us with the ashes of his map cooling in Kieran’s washbowl.
“The evening round should be ending,” he said. “Someone there may be willing to tell me how he is.”
“And if they don’t?” I asked.
His expression did not change. “I’ll wait for someone who will.”
He slipped into the corridor before either of us could offer to go with him.
Caspian closed the door. Kieran’s spare shirt was folded badly on the shelf, his clean cup stood beside the bed, and his ledger remained hidden beneath his clothes. I could not look at the empty bed for long.
I had promised to protect his ledger when he could barely breathe. Now the Tower had a copy and a classification I did not understand.
Untethered association.
I crossed to the shelf and checked that the original was still there.
“You’ve done that twice,” Caspian said.
“It hasn’t moved.”
“No.”
I let the shirt fall back over it. “They know Kieran isn’t Untethered. His records say exactly what he is.”
Caspian stood beside the table, watching the last corner of Hale’s map turn black. “The classification may describe the association, not Kieran.”
“His association with me.”
“Possibly. The file gives us nothing firmer.”
“They measured all four of us when we arrived,” I said. “They separated us before they asked anything about my Mark.”
“They asked about my bond.” Caspian rubbed his thumb across the silver line at his wrist. “When it formed. Whether its strength had changed since we crossed the bridge. Whether I could feel your pain through it.”
“You never told me that.”
“Kieran was barely standing. It did not seem the most urgent part of the morning.”
I thought of Hale returning from his own examination with his jaw locked, refusing to say what they had asked. Kieran had made light of his questions in the corridor. We had treated the separate reviews as another way to control us.
“What if they weren’t only examining each of you?” I asked. “What if they were measuring what happens to my Mark around you?”
Caspian looked toward the hidden ledger. “Kieran’s line is still open. Ours is complete. They may be comparing them.”
“And Hale’s line. We don’t even know what they asked him.”
“We don’t know that this is what they’re doing at all.”
I sat on the edge of Kieran’s bed. The blanket had been folded since the morning they carried him away. I pulled it loose and spread it over the mattress, more to give my hands something to do than because he would need it tonight.
“But why?” I asked. “Why measure all three of you to understand me?”
“Your Mark formed three lines. They may never have seen that before.”
“Then why Sadie?” I thought of the folders filling the archive shelves. “Something in her file was close enough to mine that they knew to compare Kieran with her.”
“We don’t know what that similarity was.”
“No. But they think Sadie’s case can tell them something about mine.”
“Marrow knew I was looking for Delphine. Kieran’s copy was sent straight to a comparison with Sadie Corwin. They knew where to look as soon as they had his measurements.”
“That still doesn’t tell us whether they prepared for you specifically.”
“No. It tells us the comparison wasn’t improvised when Kieran arrived.”
Whatever the similarity was, the Tower had recognized it quickly. I wondered how many other residents had been examined because of what happened around an Untethered Mark, whether my mother had ever been among them, and why Marrow cared where I looked.
“Delphine carved Sadie’s initials after the Hall erased her,” I said. “If Sadie was brought here, Delphine may have followed.”
“Which gives you another reason to return to that room.”
I looked up. “I already had one.”
“You nearly got caught tonight.”
“And Kieran nearly died while Marrow was deciding where to file his measurements.”
The bond tightened between us. Caspian’s anger reached me before it showed in his face, hot and controlled. Jealousy came with it, quick and bitter.
“Say it,” I told him.
He turned toward the blank wall where the Tower had painted the suggestion of a window.
“You went into that archive knowing what Marrow threatened to do if you were caught. Now you mean to go back. When Kieran collapsed, I felt your fear through the bond, and I know why you can’t leave this alone.
But I need you to remember that losing you would matter too. ”
“Caspian, I haven’t forgotten you.”
“I know.” His hands closed at his sides. “I know you chose me. I’m jealous anyway.”
I had expected him to hide behind concern for my safety. The direct admission left me quiet.
I crossed the room and stopped in front of him. He did not reach for me.
“I thought those were Kieran’s last minutes,” I said. “I couldn’t get through the door or help him breathe. The only thing he asked of me was to protect the record he spent years making. I saved the original, but they still have enough to use him. They put his record there because of my Mark.”
“That doesn’t make it your fault, Astra.”
I pressed my fingers to my eyes. The anger had kept me moving through the archive. Without it, I could see Kieran behind the infirmary glass again, his hand loose beside him and the green-gold light spreading into his chest.
“I’m afraid I’m going to lose him,” I said.
Caspian’s expression changed, but he remained still.
“That doesn’t mean I regret bonding with you.” I lowered my hands. “You aren’t what I settled for because Kieran is ill. I chose you because I wanted you. I still do.”
I let the bond open fully. His hands loosened.
“And Kieran?” he asked.
“I want him,” I said. “I’m afraid for him. We’ve never had enough time to find out what that means, and I won’t lie about it to make this easier.”
“I didn’t ask you to.” Caspian touched the inside of my wrist, directly over the line that belonged to him. “I believe you. I still don’t like it.”
Footsteps approached in the corridor before I could answer. Caspian dropped his hand and moved between the door and the bed as the latch turned.
Hale entered alone. Fatigue had hollowed the skin beneath his eyes, but his shoulders were no longer drawn as tightly as they had been when he left.
I went to him. “What happened?”
“His fever has broken. His breathing has held steady since the last draught, and the strength is returning to his right hand.”
I gripped the bedpost.
“Can we see him?” Caspian asked.
“Not tonight. If there is no further decline, they’ll remove the monitoring lines in the morning.” Hale looked at Kieran’s waiting bed. “They expect to send him back after that.”
The relief reached the bond in a rush. Caspian caught my hand, his fingers closing around mine.
“You’re sure?” I asked.
“I spoke to the healer who has been with him since the collapse.” Hale’s voice roughened. “She said he asked whether the bread had improved in his absence.”
I laughed, though it came out unsteadily.
Hale sat in the chair beside the bed and covered his face with one hand. Caspian drew the second chair closer to him. No one mentioned our own rooms.
I folded the blanket back and set Kieran’s cup within reach. Then I sat between Caspian and Hale to wait for morning.