26. Astra
Astra
The latch opened without the steward’s warning knock.
I was out of the chair before the administrator entered. Kieran remained asleep behind me, one arm beneath the pillow and the mended Mark uncovered at his shoulder. The healer had checked him after dawn and again at midday. Each time, the fracture had remained closed.
The administrator shut the door herself.
“Where is Marrow?” I asked.
“Elsewhere.”
“Does he know you’re here?”
“No.”
That answer woke Kieran.
His eyes opened, unfocused at first, then fixed on the woman beside the door. “If this is another examination, I’ve decided to become uncooperative.”
“You were already uncooperative,” she said.
“Then I’m ahead of schedule.”
He pushed himself higher against the pillows. The movement pulled at his shoulder, but no pain crossed the new bond. Only stiffness and the annoyance he was trying to hide from me.
The administrator watched him settle. “I need to see both Marks.”
“You have readers for that,” I said.
“The readers make records.”
“And you don’t intend to?”
“Not of this visit.”
Kieran held out his hand to me. I went to the bed and sat beside him, keeping my eyes on her as I pushed my sleeve above my elbow.
Two bonded lines lay complete at my wrist. Kieran’s showed green-gold beside Caspian’s. Hale’s line remained open. Kieran opened his shirt far enough to reveal the restored channels crossing his shoulder. When our hands touched, both Marks warmed.
The administrator came closer. She did not reach for either of us.
“Tell me exactly what happened before the bond closed,” she said.
“Marrow already told you.”
“Marrow told me what he saw.”
“Then ask what he left out.” Kieran’s fingers tightened around mine. “I was there for the important part.”
Her gaze moved to him. “Your body was unresponsive.”
“My body has always been an unreliable witness.”
“Kieran,” I said.
His expression sobered.
I told her about following the unfinished line into the fracture. I described finding Kieran beyond the break, bringing the open end of the bond to him, and stopping before it closed.
“He had to reach back,” I said. “I couldn’t complete it alone.”
“Did you communicate?”
“Yes.”
“With words?”
“Not spoken ones.”
“What did he say?”
I looked at Kieran.
“I asked if she was sure,” he said. “She said yes. Then I did.”
The administrator’s attention returned to the joined lines. Something in her face tightened.
“Marrow’s report describes spontaneous completion during an emergency intervention,” she said.
“That isn’t what happened,” I said.
“I know.”
Kieran sat straighter. “What happens if the Council accepts his version?”
“They may classify the bond as imposed.”
My hand went cold in his.
“He chose it,” I said.
“His body was unconscious. Marrow omitted any claim of communication, and the healer cannot confirm one.”
“You believe us.”
“What I believe will not decide the language used in the Council chamber.”
Kieran pushed the blanket away. “Then put my account in the record.”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because a private amendment from me can be challenged or buried. When the panel asks you, answer in the room. Make them record your consent in front of every reader present.”
“And if they don’t ask?” I said.
“Tell them anyway.”
She looked at me then, and I saw the exhaustion the review chamber usually concealed. It had deepened since she first met us at the bridge.
“An imposed bond gives them grounds to separate you,” she said. “They will call it protection while they test whether the line weakens at distance. They may also claim that any change in Kieran’s Mark resulted from coercion rather than consent.”
“They watched him die,” I said. “Now they’re worried I was unfair to him when I stopped it?”
“They are worried Kieran’s bond leaves you one step from the condition described in the sealed records.”
“What does that mean?”
Her gaze moved to Hale’s unfinished line. “If all three bonds complete, the records describe an Untethered Mark capable of altering other Marks. Repairing them. Damaging them. Changing how they function.”
“Marks belonging to anyone?” Kieran asked.
“Potentially.”
Cold spread through my hands.
“But I can’t do that now,” I said.
“Not beyond the people already joined to you, if the records are accurate. The Council will not wait for the third bond before deciding how to control the possibility.”
“You’ve seen this before,” Kieran said.
“I have seen records that came close.”
“Sadie Corwin?” I asked.
The administrator went still.
“Her file was taken before I could read it,” I said. “What happened to her?”
“This is not why I came.”
“It’s why I’m asking.”
“And I am telling you to survive the next review before you go looking for the one after it.”
She stepped away from the bed, her expression closing.
“When will they call us?” Kieran asked.
“Soon.”
“That could mean anything here.”
“Tonight, if Marrow has his way. Tomorrow if I have mine.”
She opened the door and left without waiting for the steward to escort her.
Kieran stared after her.
“I dislike her less than I did,” he said.
I looked down at our joined hands. “You’ll tell them?”
“Astra.” He waited until I met his eyes. “I chose you. They can summon every reader in the mountain and I will keep saying it.”
The line warmed between us.
The healer returned before evening and decided Kieran no longer needed someone beside him at every moment. A steward took me back toward my room.
Caspian waited where the two corridors joined.
He had changed his shirt since the day before, but not slept enough. The strain showed around his eyes and in the careful way he held his shoulders. The steward stopped within sight and gestured for us to keep the conversation brief.
“Is he stable?” Caspian asked.
“The healer thinks so.”
“And you?”
“I’m standing.”
“You look exhausted.”
I glanced at the steward. The water ran loudest in the shallow recess beside my door.
“Walk with me,” I said.
We moved toward my room. The steward remained at the crossing, close enough to watch us and too far away to hear over the water.
“The administrator came to see the bond,” I said quietly. “Marrow left Kieran’s consent out of his report.”
Caspian’s face hardened. “Deliberately?”
“She didn’t say.”
“Marrow doesn’t omit details by accident.”
“The Council may call it imposed.”
He looked at the completed line at my wrist. “Kieran will correct the record.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Then we make sure he does it in front of witnesses.”
He meant it. I felt the certainty and the hurt together.
“There’s something else,” he said.
I stopped outside my door.
Caspian lowered his voice. “I felt you last night.”
Heat rose into my face.
“Not details,” he said. “You. The bond opened before I understood what was happening.”
“Caspian, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for wanting him.”
“You shouldn’t have had to feel any of it without choosing to.”
“No.” He said it without accusation. “We’ve always been able to hold parts of the bond back. Last night I tried to hold back everything that wasn’t mine.”
“Did it work?”
“Not completely. It gave me some distance.”
I reached carefully toward our bond. It remained present, cool and familiar, with Caspian’s restraint drawn around it.
“What did you feel?”
Caspian looked toward the steward before answering. “I knew you weren’t afraid. After that I pulled away.”
My face burned.
His hand closed around mine. “Astra.”
I raised my eyes.
“I knew you wanted Kieran. We spoke about it before the bond formed.”
“Knowing isn’t the same as watching it happen.”
“No.” His thumb moved over my knuckles. “It hurt. That does not mean I doubt you.”
“Does it change what you want?”
“No.” His gaze dropped briefly to our wrists. “But next time, if there is time, tell me. I can quiet the bond before either of us has to wonder what is crossing it.”
“There will be time.”
The words caught in my throat. Kieran had time now. I was going to have to learn how to believe it.
“I’ll tell you,” I said.
Caspian lifted our joined hands and pressed his mouth to my fingers. The gesture was brief, but the bond warmed around it.
Footsteps approached from the crossing behind us.
Hale came around the bend, his expression unreadable until he saw us together. Some of the tension left his shoulders.
“Marrow is making another round,” he said. “You need to be inside before he reaches this corridor.”
“How is Kieran?” Caspian asked.
“Asleep. The Mark is still holding.” Hale looked at me. “Did the administrator tell you why she came without him?”
“Marrow left Kieran’s consent out of the report.”
Hale’s face went flat. His anger had passed beyond showing.
“I’ll be in the review chamber,” he said.
“They may not allow it.”
“Then I’ll be outside. I’ll hear whether they let him speak.”
Hale looked toward the bend in the corridor. A door opened somewhere beyond it.
“Inside,” he said.
Caspian released my hand. Hale waited until my door closed before following him back toward their wing.
Through the stone, I heard Marrow’s measured footsteps approach.