Astra
The steward unlocked my door and took me to the corridor between our separate wings.
Caspian was already there, one shoulder against the wall. Hale stood near him with his arms folded. Kieran sat on the floor beneath the false window, knees raised, silver light moving over his face.
It took me a moment to understand that he was sitting because he could not stand for the whole hour.
He saw me looking. “I know. Devastating from every angle.”
I sat beside him instead of answering. Our shoulders touched, and I let out a breath I had been holding since they separated us.
Caspian crouched long enough to press his mouth to my temple. The contact was brief because the stewards were watching, but his hand stayed at the back of my neck for another breath.
“I received a letter from my father,” he said.
“That sounds ominous.”
“It usually is.” He sat across from us. Hale lowered himself beside Kieran, careful not to jostle his injured shoulder.
A steward waited at either end of the corridor. Water rushed below the false window, loud enough to blur a quiet voice. They could watch us, but unless they came closer, they could not hear.
Hale checked both ends before Caspian began.
“My father filed a formal inquiry into conditions here,” Caspian said. “He asked what questions he should send through his private courier.”
“What did you give him?”
“Delphine Moreau. Sadie Corwin. An independent healer for Kieran.”
“I also told him to refuse if the Council offered to release me alone,” Caspian said.
I watched his face. “Your father won’t enjoy that.”
“He asked what would be useful. He can endure receiving an answer.”
I reached across the narrow space and took his hand. “Thank you.”
His fingers closed around mine. “There was something else.”
He drew a folded scrap from inside his sleeve and kept it hidden below his raised knee. The paper was coarse and dusted with flour along one edge.
“This was under the bread on my tray.”
Hale leaned closer without taking it from him.
Three words had been written across the paper in cramped black ink.
Aldric was removed.
For several seconds, all I could see was Aldric standing beside Juno at the formal, shoulders squared toward Quill as the stewards led us away.
“Do you recognize the writing?” I asked.
Hale shook his head.
“The flour could have come through Rev’s grandmother,” I said.
“Or someone wants us to think it did,” Caspian replied.
He turned the note so Kieran could read it.
“Removed from what?” Kieran asked.
“His position. The Hall. We have no way to know.” Caspian folded the scrap and slid it back beneath his knee.
Hale looked toward the stewards. “Quill may have included Aldric’s objections in the transfer report.”
“Then the Council knows he tried to stop it,” I said.
The steward nearest us shifted his weight. Hale waited until the man looked down the adjoining passage before speaking.
“Tell them about Delphine.”
I told Caspian and Kieran that she was stable and eating again. Then I told them what she had felt when I held her in Wing C: pain shifting after months in one place, the broken Mark pulling toward my hand.
“She wants me to find out what happened before I try again,” I said. “Hale offered to help.”
Caspian’s gaze moved to Hale. “Using your Mark.”
“As a point of comparison,” Hale said. “I can tell her what I feel from my side. I can’t teach her what her own Mark is doing.”
“Then we try once,” I said.
Caspian looked along the corridor. “Here?”
“We could ask Marrow to arrange it properly,” Hale said.
I looked toward the stewards. “With readers standing over us and instruments ready before we know what happens? No.”
“Astra,” Caspian said.
“They changed the name of Delphine’s treatment every time she asked them to stop. I want to know what my Mark does before the Tower decides what to call it.”
Hale watched me for a moment. “This is not training. We find out whether your Mark responds before contact.”
“And the other two lines?” Caspian asked.
“We watch them,” Hale said. “I can’t promise more than that.”
There were no unobserved rooms left to us, and it might be another week before the four of us were together again. Water covered our voices. If we kept Hale’s arm below our knees, the stewards would not see it.
“If they see it?” I asked.
“At minimum, they end the hour.”
I looked at Caspian. Fear moved through the bond, cold and immediate, but he did not let go.
“The instant anything changes,” he said.
“I stop,” I promised.
Kieran shifted until his body blocked Hale from the steward at the far end. Caspian moved closer on the other side, shielding us from the nearer one.
Hale pushed his sleeve back just far enough to expose the rain-dark line along his forearm.
“We’re testing distance, nothing more,” he said. “Move your hand closer. Stop at the first sensation.”
I turned toward him. The line matching his lay quiet beside Caspian’s at my wrist. The unfinished green-gold rested above them.
I lifted my hand.
Nothing changed at first. Hale’s forearm remained steady across his knee, his Mark dark against his skin. I moved closer until only a narrow space separated us.
The rain-dark line on my wrist cooled.
Before I could withdraw, the green-gold snapped hot.
Kieran jerked beside me. His breath caught, and his left hand closed over his right shoulder.
I pulled back at once.
Light showed beneath the edge of Kieran’s collar, brighter than I had seen it since the collapse. It stretched toward the hollow of his throat before drawing tight again.
Hale caught him beneath his good arm. “Kieran.”
“I’m here.” His voice came thinly.
The nearest steward started toward us.
Caspian released my hand and rose into the man’s path. “His shoulder.”
Hale lowered his sleeve while the steward’s attention was on Kieran.
The steward looked past Caspian. “What happened?”
“He shifted against the wall,” Hale said. “His shoulder took his weight.”
“Do you need the healer?”
Hale looked at Kieran.
“Not yet,” Kieran said. “Give it a moment.”
The steward remained until Kieran’s breathing steadied, then returned to his post. He kept watching us.
I crouched in front of Kieran.
“Did I hurt you?”
He shook his head once. “Not at first.”
I looked at Hale. “Did you feel anything?”
“No.”
“What did you feel?” Hale asked Kieran.
Kieran opened his eyes and looked at me. “A pull.”
“From where?” Hale asked.
“My shoulder. Toward Astra.” Kieran flexed his right hand. The last two fingers lagged behind the others. “The numbness is back.”
Hale saw it. “Back?”
“It happened this morning too. It passed before the reader arrived.”
Hale’s jaw tightened. “Anything else?”
“No.” Kieran let his hand fall.
Hale did not answer. His hand remained firm beneath Kieran’s arm.
“I never touched Hale,” I said.
Caspian knelt beside me. “We are not doing it again.”
“No,” Hale said. “Not until we understand why Kieran’s Mark reacted when Astra moved toward me.”
By the time the steward called the end of the hour, the numbness had eased. The pain had not.
Hale helped Kieran stand. Caspian took his left side before the stewards could object.
I took Kieran’s hand while they were still deciding how to move him. His skin was cold.
“Ask them,” he said quietly.
“I will.”
His fingers tightened once before the stewards separated us.
On the walk back, I held my marked wrist against my chest.
The green-gold line was still hot when my door locked behind me.