Chapter 13
Everyone Knows It Sucks to Be Right
ANNA
Istared at the gentle waves of my deep purple canopy.
The first few weeks of classes had been a blur.
Training was getting monotonous, and I was no closer to any answers than when I’d gotten here.
Thoughts paralyzed my mind. I imagined them floating through the air, wispy beings that refused to quell as they danced to a haunting lullaby.
If they would still, perhaps I could see what they meant, but they were unwilling to coalesce.
Just like the Aurkai. They were in this together—whatever this was.
Skylar’s face formed in the wisps. She avoided me, as she always did.
Of all of the Initiates that came in with me, she was the most timid.
She would hardly look at a guy without blushing—there was no way she would be so willing to…
Malakai was so near her. My fists tightened.
He’d nearly done the same to me. Trembling, I pushed the memory away.
He did something. I just didn’t know what.
“If I cannot taste you, may I have you?”
“Yes.”
I jerked to my side; the sheets twisted in my fists.
I should’ve done something to get her away from him. Anything. Scream, punch him, drag her with me. But I didn’t.
I didn’t do anything.
My footfalls echoed down the corridor as I headed to my next class, The Forged Vessel with Isabella. I hadn’t slept. Light streamed through the ancient arched windows as Isabella chattered away.
Whilst stretching in class, she started telling me a story that Saryna told her, but I barely heard it. I watched the door, waiting for Skylar to come in. As the minutes ticked by, she never came.
“Isabella,” I whispered. “Did you see Skylar this morning at breakfast?”
She glanced at me mid-stretch, her brows furrowed.
“Who?” she asked.
Panic struck deep. I shook my head and went back to stretching as my pulse thundered in my ears.
If she couldn’t remember her, that meant…
I forced myself to stay calm.
Running around like a lunatic wouldn’t be smart right now.
I watched out for her in our Valyrian class, but with little hope. I even asked Professor Rynar if he knew where she was. He chuckled at me and shooed me to my seat, where there was a Valyrian poem waiting to be translated.
He was one of my favorite professors. Skylar had often helped me with our work in this class. I never thought I could learn another language, but somehow, practicing with her made it effortless.
Professor Rynar had been my last hope that someone else would remember Skylar. I had to look for her. Instead of going to my seat, I turned on my heel and bolted for the door.
“Anna?” he called, but I didn’t turn back.
I headed straight for the dorms. I ran, worried I’d already waited too long, accidentally brushing past other students. “Hey! Watch out.”
I kept moving, ignoring them, and rushed up the staircase.
I reached Skylar’s common room and knocked furiously. After a few seconds, I knocked again, and the door flew open to a cross-looking Riya.
“Why are you beating down—” she paused, focusing on me, and her expression shifted to concern. “Anna? What’s wrong?”
I rushed past her, scanning the nameplates on the door.
RIYA, REECE, SARYNA, and nothing.
The last door didn’t have a nameplate. I went in, scanning the dorm. My chest hurt as I dragged in strained, painful breaths. The bed was made, and the wardrobe neat. There was nothing on the bedside table. The room was empty.
“Anna? What are you doing?” Riya asked, her voice cautious.
“Skylar,” I said. “Have you seen her?”
Her brows knitted in a tight and worrisome expression.
“Skylar?”
My heart plummeted into my stomach.
I stared at her.
“Skylar,” I repeated. “Short, shy, brown hair, smart?”
Riya’s lips parted, her face glowing with concern. “Anna, I think we need to get you to the Nurse’s ward.”
She touched me gently on the arm, and I jerked away from her.
“I’m fine,” I snapped, leaving the room.
I went straight to my dorm, my heart pounding and my head splitting with pain.
How? How could she not remember her?
My door slammed shut with a thud, and I paced from my window to my four-poster, cradling my head in my hands.
Did I confront Malakai?
No.
That would be the worst thing I could do.
Roslyn?
She was one of them—but could I trust her?
Everson didn’t like me. What if Riya said something? I couldn’t let him realize whatever they were doing to make us forget people didn’t work on me.
Again.
A sharp knock on the door halted my pacing.
“Yeah?”
“Anna? I’m heading to Raicanya, are you coming?”
It was Isabella.
“I’m not feeling well,” I said. “I think I’m going to skip it today.”
“Okay,” she said through my locked door. “Riya said you were acting oddly. Are you sure you’re alright?”
I gritted my teeth in silent irritation and tried to think of an excuse.
“I had some weird dreams last night,” I said. “I must need some rest. I think I have a fever. Check on me later?”
“Oh no!” she said, “I’ll tell Caelan you’re not feeling well and I’ll get you some soup later! Get some rest!”
I held my breath until I heard the common room door shut with a thud.
I released it, sinking to the floor and bringing my knees to my chest.
Roslyn and Isabella were wonderful to be around. Friendship I hadn’t expected when I came here. It reminded me of the bond I shared with Katie.
But right now, I was alone, and I didn’t know who I could trust.
And the worst part was that maybe it was me that I couldn’t trust.
I had to know.
Night descended upon the grounds like a pall being pulled over a casket.
I waited long after everyone was typically asleep. Feigning illness had been the best way to have space and to think. The soup that Isabella brought still sat on my bedside table, now ice cold.
I slipped out of my dorm room; a black cloak pulled tightly around my shoulders.
My mom used to accuse me of being foolish. I liked to think I was brave. I think the actual term for it was impulsive, but I tried not to dwell on it. It hadn’t gotten me killed yet.
I moved silently and quickly, avoiding the moonlight streaming into the corridor.
I passed Meridian Hall and ascended two flights of stairs.
The shadows and castle alcoves hid me well as voices sounded in the distance.
Slipping through one of the winter gardens bathed in the silvery light, I took the adjacent corridor to the Aurkai wing.
From the moment I stepped into the wing, it was eerily silent, my own breath startling.
The thrumming in my veins I’d noticed a few times before surged through me, and the air thickened like the calm before a storm.
The arched ceilings soared above me, and pale blue light spilled into the corridor, painting fragmented patterns of shadows across my path.
Each step I took echoed around me. My heart raced with nervous energy, my pulse thrumming in my ears louder than my footsteps. As I moved forward, I ran my hand along the cold wall, tracing the cracks of the stone. What if I found nothing here?
I took a deep breath. The scent was smoky and oddly sweet, like there was some exotic wood burning in a hearth nearby. The weight of the air felt like the ages of the castle’s past were bearing down on me at once.
Did it matter that I wanted answers from a place so revered? Did it care at all about the lives that it consumed? I thought of my mom, Annabelle, Cody, Skylar.
And me.
I needed this to tell me the truth—and if it did, I’d accept it. Even if I was the connection to all of it.
The door loomed before me; its dark wood was heavy with age but polished so that it gleamed like marble.
Elegant designs were carved into the perimeter, barely visible in the pale moonlight.
The closer I got, the thicker the air became.
The desire to turn back was waxing, but I refused.
I clenched my fists and forced my legs to move.
When the door was within reach, I took forced, shallow breaths. My fingers trembled as I touched the handle, twisting it firmly.
Locked.
A frustrated hiss escaped my lips. I knew this could’ve been a possibility. I reached for the thin metal tool I swiped from Isabella’s vanity. I slid it into the keyhole and twisted and prodded, hoping to hear something click.
I ground my teeth, and I tried the door again and again, but nothing I tried forced the lock. Growling under my breath, my jaw clenched as anger flared in my chest. My palm slammed against the wood, the sting vibrating up my arm.
“Open,” I snapped through gritted teeth, gripping the handle again and yanking. The door didn’t budge.
Desperation tightened my throat. I needed to get inside. My fingers curled around the handle, knuckles whitening as I twisted it violently, willing the damn thing to yield.
A sudden click echoed through the corridor.
I gasped, disbelief washing over me as the handle gave way beneath my grip. Slowly, I pushed the door inward. It swung open with a groan.
My breath hitched. I wasn’t sure what startled me more: the door finally opening, or the realization that it had unlocked seconds after I’d tried to force it.
I stepped inside, quietly closing the door behind me with a soft thud.
A fireplace glowed from across the room, the embers left to die in the night. Above it was a large map, framed in gold. The energy from the corridor was stronger here. I could feel it prickling along my skin as I took a tentative step into the room.
A long table stretched the length of the room.
The polished wood gleamed in the pale moonlight that lit the scrolls, and thick leather-bound tomes lay scattered across its surface.
A wine bottle stood untouched near the center, its deep red contents catching the light ominously.
The scent of smoke, leather, and old parchment lingered in the air, earthy and unsettling.