SIXTEEN
Aurora Finley strode forwards, arms swinging casually as she approached. She was everything Silas wasn’t, and it was always those differing qualities that garnered his admiration.
Where Silas had been quietly obedient growing up, Aurora was the child to act out, refusing to participate in ridiculous errands or long days of mindless researching.
She had never played into the Finley name, refusing the wealth it offered her and shying away from the prestigious academia the family boasted.
Aurora was an artist, leaving the estate at freshly eighteen to carve out her own path.
She stopped before them, pushing back her hood, the signature blonde hair spilling across her shoulders.
Aurora looked at him coolly. “I heard you’d come crawling back home,” she said, eyes drifting to Amelia, looking her up and down. “When they told me you’d brought a woman with you, I hardly believed it.”
“Oh…uh, no…” Amelia stuttered, shaking her head.
Aurora raised a brow at her obvious distress. “Last I was here, he had a girl—”
“Aurora,” Silas snapped with a warning look.
She shrugged a shoulder. “What? Tell me, brother, what happened to that girl you were seeing?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, mortification sweeping through him. “That was over a year ago,” Silas said sternly. “You’ve been gone awhile.”
Aurora smiled sardonically. “As have you.” Her eyes slid back to Amelia. “So, who have you brought home this time?”
Silas sighed. “Winslow, this is my sister, Aurora. Aurora…Winslow.”
Aurora’s eyebrows shot up, surveying Amelia with renewed interest. “As in Amelia Winslow? Really…” Curiosity tinged her voice, eyes flitting between them. Aurora had heard about his run-ins with Amelia, and more than once had guessed at the truth of his feelings. Which he had refused to admit.
His sisters mouth split into a wicked grin, eyes settling on him. Silas knew what was coming and he silently begged her not to, but—
“So, when’s the wedding?”
His eyes fell shut with a rough breath. “Aurora,” he warned, Amelia’s head snapping in his direction. “Winslow is a colleague. We’re working on a project.”
Aurora raised an eyebrow, looking startlingly like their mother for a horrible second. “Working together?” She gave Amelia a humoured once-over. “I thought you two, and I quote ‘ couldn’t stand each other ’ or some other nonsense?”
Silas rolled his eyes.
Amelia shifted awkwardly. “We were on a joint expedition to the Rift—”
His hand shot out to grip Amelia’s upper arm, his heart stuttering. She quieted at once with an uncertain look, but he knew the damage had been done when he glanced at Aurora. Her face paled, mischievous look vanishing.
“The Rift?” Aurora demanded. “You travelled into the Rift ?”
“Can we speak privately?” Silas asked, letting go of Amelia’s arm.
“No,” Aurora said quickly, blue eyes turning to fire. “I can’t believe…you went into the Rift! After everything that happened, how could you—”
“Aurora,” Silas said in a placating tone, “let’s go inside and we can talk. Winslow doesn’t need to witness you yelling at me.”
Aurora looked at him scathingly. “Is that so? Or do you want to keep this private because, perhaps, she doesn’t know?”
His heart sank.
“Know what?” Amelia asked.
Aurora opened her mouth, but Silas stepped between them, facing his sister. “We will speak privately, because however mad you are, you know this is my story to tell, and not yours, so don’t do something you’ll regret, sister .”
Aurora glared, crossing her arms. “Fine.” She whirled, stalking towards their childhood home.
Silas turned quietly to face Amelia. There was nothing accusatory on her face like he imagined there would be, only confusion.
He cleared his throat. “Uh, she’s a bit of a force.”
Amelia didn’t respond to that, asking instead, “what was she talking about?”
Silas glanced behind him, finding Aurora standing impatiently on the top step, waiting for him. He turned back. “We’ll speak later. There’re still a few hours before midnight, I’ll find you beforehand.”
He left no room for argument, walking away, praying for patience to endure this conversation.
Silas followed her into the east wing until they stepped into her old room.
“Is mother floating about the halls?” Aurora asked airily, though Silas heard the falsity of it, knowing she cared.
“She’s around,” he answered, not missing the tension around her shoulders as she flung off her heavy cloak. “I’ve not seen her since the night we arrived.”
Aurora twisted, giving him an odd look. “Let’s touch on this ‘ we ’ business. Amelia Winslow…you’re working with her now? Or the more important question…that she is working with you ?”
Silas moved to the fireplace, feeling the chill in the dark, near-empty room. Barren of human residence for so long, the space had a definitive coldness. He bent to retrieve the logs. “She could only deny my brilliance for so long.”
“Silas.”
He looked over his shoulder, brushing wood shavings from his hands. Aurora’s look was knowing, hands on her hips. Silas sat back on his haunches with the urge to laugh. Seeing his sister was odd yet familiar.
He sighed softly. “You’re not going to like it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Like what?”
Silas turned away, muttering the word to ignite the fire rune, watching it spark to life with immediate bright, warm flames. He stood, facing his sister.
“We ran into some trouble in the Rift—”
“Of course you did, idiot!” Aurora fumed, pacing before him. “It’s a place rife with horror and magical disruption. Anything can happen there. I can’t believe you would—”
“Aurora,” Silas said, cutting off her rant. She seethed but fell silent. “Winslow and I found some relics, which have a connection to the Monoliths.”
Aurora sighed before shaking her head. “Always after a new discovery. Just like father.”
“Just listen,” Silas urged. “We were impacted by the relics. They…did something to us, and we’re working to find out how we can fix it.”
She blinked, confused. “Impacted you…how?”
Silas reached up, running a hand through his hair, hesitating to say the next words. “We were bonded by them, causing a connection between us that I believe is similar to—”
“Our parents’ research,” she deadpanned, face suddenly flattening out, eyes dulling.
Aurora had always hated listening to lectures, reading certain academic books and altogether live with the expectations of the family.
She made a noise in the back of her throat and turned away.
“That’s…” She sighed quietly before looking back to him accusingly. “You’re an idiot .”
Silas exhaled his disbelief. “It was an accident,” he said, “and now we need to know what we’re up against. Would you know where father’s research journals are?”
He had never seen someone pale as quickly as Aurora did in that moment. Her skin turned almost grey, blue eyes stuttering. She avoided his eyes. “No.”
Silas narrowed his eyes, disbelieving.
“What do you know?” he demanded.
Aurora looked at him warily, before slowly moving to the double couch, sinking into the soft cushions. Her head fell into her hands, her defeated posture injecting fear through him.
“Aurora,” Silas said softly, shifting to sit next to her.
She let out a shaky breath before finally looking at him.
“After he disappeared, I was snooping in his study. I just wanted answers…I wanted to know what was so damn important to him that he would risk his life, risk leaving us. I found two journals. One was fathers, and the other…well, I still don’t know.
It was glyph-locked, and I’ve never able to open it.
Absolutely diabolical glyph—kept zapping me. ”
“Why wouldn’t you just tell me?”
“Father was going mad,” Aurora explained flatly. “His journal is full of these scribbles, going on and on about the Midnight Realm and how he was trying to find a way into it. He thought it held a source of power that would fix everything. The magic and all.”
“Where’s the journal now?” he asked, mind reeling.
Aurora picked at her nails. “I’m not sure you’d want to read it. His last notes made no sense. I think he went mad.” Her head shook with obvious grief. “That place, the Rift, does something to you. I can’t believe you went there…”
He pulled her to him for a one-armed hug. “I know it’s hard to understand…” Silas trailed off, eyes drifting as his brain whirred. “There must be more than those journals.”
“When I was looking for answers in the study, I did notice the fireplace had been used recently.”
His brows furrowed. “Okay?”
Aurora turned her face up to him. “I think mother burned his research.”
Silas stared, uncertain how to process that. He stood, restlessly pacing before turning back, arms raising to clasp the back of his neck. “How could you not tell me this?”
Aurora looked down guiltily. “I just thought…Silas, you are so much like him , that I thought you would want to continue his research, to find out what happened to him.” She glanced up with a shrug.
“You were his clone, wanting to understand everything, pursue every topic, change the world . I was afraid you’d follow in his footsteps… and disappear right along with him.”
Silas scoffed.
“Am I wrong?” Aurora demanded, “to think you wouldn’t have picked up where he left off? You didn’t even know about this, and you’ve been galivanting into the most dangerous part of Aethrial! Imagine if you had that information…what would you have been willing to do?”
“Well,” Silas said bitterly, “what a lot of good keeping it from me did, then, hm?” He strode for the door, pulling it open before turning back.
“Looks like I’ll be walking in his footsteps soon enough, anyway.
If we don’t break the bond…Winslow and I are both screwed. Maybe I’ll see father again, soon.”
He pulled the door closed behind him forcefully. Standing in the dark hallway, his shoulders shook with uneven breaths, anger, and disappointment swelling.