Chapter 83 Taera
Taera
Before I can rush out of the Healers’ Hall, Omi presses something into my hand.
“What’s this?” A golden walnut-shaped clasp rests in my palm. It’s smaller than the tip of my finger, and glistens, semi-transparent, when it tilts.
Omi shakes their head. “I’ll explain later. Go do what you need to do.”
“Thank you.” Slipping the trinket onto my bracelet so I won’t lose it, I rush out the door and down the hallway.
It’s time for answers.
I reach the obsidian door to Nikolai’s chambers easily and hover outside. I still don’t know what I’m going to say, or how I’m going to persuade him off his path to madness, but I have to try.
I burst through the door. Green eyes look up at me from where he’s hunched over the desk, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. He’s here.
“Why did you do it?” I blurt out.
He frowns. “Do what?”
I brace myself. “I know you stole a relic from the healers.”
“You didn’t have a problem with me stealing before.” He stands, and his eyes narrow. Then they flicker to my throat, where I instinctively raise a hand to Mom’s pendant.
“Why did you do it?” I ask. “What are you doing, Nikolai?”
“You won’t understand.” His mask spreads across his features: terrible and beautiful and indifferent.
“Because you won’t explain it to me!”
Nikolai’s hair ripples with golden fire. His tone is controlled. “Why did you even come back here?”
I swallow. “To become a healer. To learn magic, to… to be with you.”
He winces, and it’s worse than him striking me. I take a step back.
“If you don’t want me, I’ll—” I breathe.
“Who says I don’t want you?” The dangerous rumble in his tone sends my heart stuttering. My cheeks heat. But I won’t let him distract me.
“I’m here because no one else is going to tell you to stop before it’s too late.”
His mouth hardens. “Too late has passed.”
“What does that mean?” I whisper. “Is this all for Hazel? I told you I can give her magic. I care about her, too.”
“Taking care of her is my burden, not yours,” he snaps. Fury flashes across his face, and I recoil.
“I put together your mirror,” I whisper, pleading. “I helped you find that cursed book. If you need to do this—to find something more in the labyrinth—at least don’t do it alone.”
His gaze is heavy, going absent, like he’s staring right through me. I hold my breath.
“It only spits out riddles. No matter how much I feed it…” He exhales.
“The labyrinth?”
“The mirror.” He grimaces. “It gives nothing but contradictions. The surface rises to the depths when you search where you can’t see and find what you aren’t looking for.”
At least he’s telling me something.
“Please, Nikolai. Let me help you.”
Something violent twitches beneath his features.
“You know why I stole the relic?” he growls, snapping his head up. “Because it’s the only thing that stops me from fragmenting. Especially when I have to harvest secrets. Do you have any idea the kind of monster I’ve become, getting this far? Stop trying to save me. Save yourself.”
He stalks forward, closing the space between us.
I blink, trying to clear my head of his dizzying proximity, of a fresh wave of fear. I’m not afraid of him; I’m afraid for him. But I won’t give up on him this easily.
“But this isn’t you. Even if you can’t tell me what you’re caught up in… I need you. Hazel needs you, the you from before all this. Your family misses you,” I plead.
My brain jolts. Nikolai has been doing the same thing I’ve done for years: he can’t let go of what happened to his sister. He’s still dragging his family through that same pain by letting his obsession take over. The same way I’d make my family suffer by telling them Mom could have been spared.
“What makes you think there’s anything left of who I used to be?” Nikolai’s whisper comes from all around me.
I shiver, fighting to keep my breath even, but my determination solidifies. Hazel’s magic is already gone. Mom is gone. But Nikolai isn’t. “You wouldn’t be fighting to destroy part of you that’s already gone. There has to be something real left, below all your illusions.”
“Nothing about me is real,” he snarls, his breath hot against my face.
“What we had together—”
“It was just an illusion.”
“It was real to me,” I say. “And I know you felt something. Why don’t you want to face how I feel about you—how you feel about me?”
“I want to, Taera. I want you.” His voice is raw. “I just need one more clue to finish this.”
My heart breaks for him all over again, and my desperation returns; I have to reach him, to make him understand.
“Being real isn’t something that requires one more relic. It’s a choice you make right now, of what’s most important to you,” I plead.
I expect something, some softening, or reaction. Even cruel laughter. But his eyes dart away, tense with pain. His shoulders sag.
“What do you want from me?” He looks exhausted.
I want to hold him, to comfort him. But I can’t when he’s given me nothing.
My voice breaks. “Did you know my mom sacrificed herself for me?”
He closes his eyes, turning away. “I’m sorry, Taera.”
My chest threatens to crack open, but I force myself to breathe through it. “You should have told me.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you more.”
I shake my head, swallowing anger. “I need the truth. I need honesty.”
His breath shudders out. “I can’t… not yet.”
I feel strangled—helpless, furious. “When will your quest finally be over?”
“The masquerade.” His eyes are pleading. “I hope.”
I soften, my brows creased, gazing up at him. “Will you… I mean, would you like—you and me—to go together? Can we have that one evening together?”
“I already have a date.”
“Oh.” My breath leaves me, and pain lodges in its place.
“She has a relic I need.” He won’t even tell me who he’s taking, only that he needs her for something—unlike me.
“And this is more important than anything? More important than me?”
Sorrow and guilt war behind his expression, flickering out past the mask. But his silence answers my question.
I clear my throat. “Right.”
He reaches tentatively toward me. “I can come to you, afterward.”
I step back. “No, thanks.”
I clench and unclench my fists, struggling to recover from the punch to the gut. His mouth opens and closes, and I stare at it—at those perfect lips that will say anything to get what he wants. I was never going to be able to reach him through the maze of lies he’s told himself.
“When this is over”—his voice comes out hoarse—“if there’s anything left of me, it’s yours.”
“That’s… not enough.” I shake my head, my breathing labored. “I think I need to go.”
I reach for the door, fumbling the handle.
His brows crease, panic flashing across his face.
“I can’t keep doing this,” I choke out. “Waiting for you to choose me.”
“Wait—”
“I—I’ll be in the dormitories.” I flee without looking back. I can’t let his beautiful lies seduce me into staying.