Chapter Twenty-One #2
Because as much as I want to hold onto the fact that people finally listened to me—actually listened—part of my mind has already drifted to the golden metal flower tucked under my bed, and whether Talen has replied.
“Sorry about the mess.” I scratch behind my neck, fingers catching against the itchy wool of the sweater as I notice the potato sacks scattered across the floor.
“It’s okay, canvas we can repair. People less so.” Magda straightens, resting a hand on my shoulder. “You handled it well.”
Looking over at Ahria, I catch Darren and Reya as they stroll into the far end of the tent. His gaze narrows when it meets mine and for a second I can totally imagine what he used to look like as a heartless Citadel officer.
“I find it hard to believe people at the Citadel don’t know what Serrane is doing,” I mutter, shifting my focus back to Magda. “The sermons, the reassignments... people must realise he’s doing something.”
“That’s the issue.” She sighs, dropping her arm down. “They either know and are too scared to say anything—telling themselves if they ignore it then it isn’t really happening—or they’re helping him. And right now, we don’t know who’s who.”
My nails bite into my palms as my fists curl. I know Professor Strannt must be one of them. I wonder if his son, the Weasel, ever made it out alive after he bolted when Cal showed up.
“Do we know more about this weapon? This dark mist?” I push, taking advantage of the rare chance to ask more while she waits for the other riders.
Magda’s usually moving from one crisis to the next and it’s impossible to pin down for more than a few seconds.
“If Serrane’s already this powerful and wants to use it to stay in control, why isn’t he attacking?
What’s he waiting for? Why’s he planning to take more people during the census? ”
“My questions exactly,” she heaves a heavy sigh. “And unfortunately, ones I don’t have answers for.”
An ache builds at the base of my neck as I look up at her.
She’s so tall and lean she seems like the sort of person who should come across cold, but after the way Talen writes about her in his letters, almost like a mother to him, I find myself warming to her far quicker than I normally would.
Plus, I still can’t believe she knitted me this sweater.
“What realm are you from by the way?” I ask. She raises a brow at me. “I mean, you have Earth and Air Threads, right? I assume Air Realm since you’ve known Talen for so long.”
Leaning down slightly, she drops her voice. “Actually, I’m more like you.”
My forehead creases. “An Outerlander?”
“Magda.” Reya calls from the far of the tent, where she stands with Darren and a few other riders. “Let's get this meeting started.”
“Uh—not quite,” she trails off, already angling herself away. “Sorry, we’ll have to catch up later. And well done again for today.” Then with a few easy strides of her long legs, she’s already gone.
I want to stick around, try to catch her again after her meeting finishes and ask more, but I already know she’ll only be needed somewhere else. Plus, if I leave now, I have just enough time to get back to the tent and check the bloody Letter-threader.
Turning, I bend down to grab my pack, but as I straighten, I bump straight into something soft and blonde, and my pack drops to the floor with a soft thud.
“I didn’t know you could do Earth Threads.” Ezzy’s blue eyes sparkle up at me. “You have three now? Air, Water and Earth?”
Damn.
“Yeah,” I reply, wiggling my toes inside my boots, caught between wanting to rush off and not wanting Ezzy to stop talking. “They kind of clicked into place during the Second Year Trials—”
“That was badass.” Neeve chimes in, and the restless shifting in my feet fades, impatience quickly twisting into guilt as she wanders over to join us.
“Thanks.” I lift an awkward shoulder, and she offers a shy smile in return.
“Hey, um… I’m sorry about Darren, about this teaching thing.
I never thought of it that way, that him not teaching means he’s out there more.
” My gaze moves toward the opening in the canvas.
“Maybe we can talk to Magda about him taking some of my slots?”
Although I think he’s acting like a total jerk, he’s still Neeve’s person, her fiancé, and I don’t want to cause any issues between them or be the reason he gets hurt.
“No, Lyra, I’m the one who should be sorry.
” She mumbles, twisting the gold ring in her nose and dropping her focus to the ground for a second.
“I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, I should have told you myself, Darren shouldn’t have said it.
” Looking back up, her mouth pulls thin.
“Teaching would just be one more thing on his schedule, and I barely see him as it is. I wish it worked like that, but I doubt it would reduce his time in the air.”
She sounds sincere. Still, my mouth opens anyway to offer more apologies but she continues before I can.
“Anyway,” Her voice lifts, a bit brighter now. “I’m heading down to the lake for a cold plunge if you want to join?”
A shiver rolls through me before I can stop it, dragging up the memory of falling in with Talen, it was icy then, and that was in the middle of summer. “Yeah, no thanks. I’ll pass.”
“Oh, come on!” She nudges me. “Ezzy’s coming, aren't you?”
Ezzy stiffens beside me. “Oh. Yeah, sure.”
The response comes out way too quickly, too easily, the way most things do with her lately.
I know it isn’t really a choice, not properly, because Ezzy bloody hates the cold.
The old her would have argued, or at least complained, but now, like everything else, she just waits for someone else to decide first, then quietly falls in beside them.
It’s as though she can't even think for herself without the constant orders from the Citadel.
Still, I’m glad she’s getting out. And hell, who knows, maybe freezing lake water will do what nothing else has managed and shock her back into herself.
My heel starts tapping and I wonder if maybe I should go. Not to swim, obviously, because I’m not completely deranged, but just to be there. To make sure Ezzy’s all right.
But I can tell she’s already getting frustrated with me hovering around. Since we started talking again, I can’t help checking on her every five seconds, and some time away from me and the camp would probably do her good.
Plus, if that also means I can check the Letter-threader, then fine. Two good things.
“You two have fun.” Bending down, I grab my pack and swing it over my shoulder before Neeve can protest. “I need to check on some stuff.”
Neeve’s mouth curves into a knowing smile. “Fine. But I want to read them all later.” Shaking my head, I walk away. “Especially the dirty ones,” she calls after me.
Ahria speeds off ahead of me, her green body expertly weaving between the narrow paths, which, for once, is completely fine because I’m walking as fast as I can without looking like I’m running.
When we reach the tent, she slips through the narrow gap in the entrance and I lift the canvas and hurry in after her. My pulse is pounding so loudly, heaving against my chest in anticipation as I sit down and open the Letter-threader, you would have thought I’d sprinted here.
Chewing on my bottom lip, I catch Ahria watching me from the comfort of Talen’s flight jacket, thrown over the chair at the end of the bed, her eyes narrowing on mine in a way I can only describe as judgmental.
But I don’t care.
He’s only managed to write back twice since my first letter.
The first week after the attack he was stuck in the healers’ wing, which explains the initial silence, but he’s returned to his quarters now, resting most of the time.
He hasn’t said he’s in pain, of course he hasn’t—but I know he must be, I can see it in the tremor of his handwriting.
Golden light spills across my face, as in front of me, the flame flickers and my heart catches with it—one stupid, helpless beat before a puff of smoke curls upward, carrying the faint, charred smell of burning paper, and a new folded note slips free.