Chapter 42
I hear whispers of what’s happening in the city.
They come from the student body, and from the Worldkeepers by way of Gregor.
Sacrificing that professor earned a little bit of trust with the general populace.
But they’re becoming antsy again. Arresting an “accomplice” goes only so far.
They want the real deal—they want blood. My blood.
But I remain hidden and, so far as I’m able to tell, safe. For now.
The same can’t be said for my sister. The Worldkeepers tend to her.
I’ve begun to learn their faces and names in an effort to turn familiarity into trust. I’m still unsure how much of my wanting to join them is realizing how convenient it would be to be aligned with them.
Ferier—their healer—is a decent man. But she has yet to make any progress under his care.
And so I return to the theory I’ve been hanging my hope on since it first occurred to me: Thal.
Just when I’m on the verge of giving up and finding Thal myself, they appear next to Sorza one afternoon following class.
They look quite confused as to why Sorza brought them here.
But they have enough faith in Sorza that they follow her into my classroom, not knowing that they’re a beacon of hope.
“All right,” Sorza says as she closes the door behind her, turning to me. “I held up my end of the bargain.”
“Bargain?” Thal is understandably confused.
“Thal…” I say softly, emotion briefly getting the better of me. Then I gather myself, round my desk, and quickly cross the classroom. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Professor?” Their brows furrow deeper as I approach. “What’s going on? Why am I here?” Skepticism is written on their face and dulls their hazel eyes.
Sorza merely leans against the door, arms folded and watching us with a smirk.
“Thal…It’s me, Clara.” I come to a halt a short distance away.
Thal’s attention returns to me, their earrings clinking.
One of those stacks of beaded and gilded ribbons is longer than the other.
It accentuates the sharp edge of their jaw and the carved hollow of their cheeks while highlighting the honeyed gold of their hair.
They narrow their eyes. “I don’t understand what jest you’re playing at.”
“It’s me, Clara, the Wheel of Fortune. And I need you—as the Sun.”
“You’ve taken this jest too far,” Thal says to Sorza, seething.
Sorza raises her hand in mock surrender, even though Thal hasn’t made any motion toward her. “I’m just the messenger.”
Thal turns their confusion back to me. “Clara—the Wheel—Clara Graysword is the most hunted person in Oricalis. Some of the most powerful people underneath the crown are searching for her, and she’s managed to elude them.
This whole academy was turned upside down.
Yet you would have me believe you’re her? ”
“Where better to hide than under my enemies’ noses?” I shrug.
“I don’t believe—”
“Poppies,” I interject. That stills them. “You need poppies to ink your card, and it can remove pain from someone.”
Thal slowly turns back to Sorza. “You could’ve told her that.”
“But I didn’t,” Sorza says.
“I don’t see why I—”
Before they can finish, I lift a card from my deck. I anticipated their suspicion weeks ago when I asked Sorza to help bring them to me. I knew that they could find a way to doubt everything, save for one thing—one bit of irrefutable proof.
Their eyes widen as the silver ink of the Wheel of Fortune catches the light.
“It is you…” they whisper. “And you’re daring to reveal yourself to me? How can you trust me not to turn you in?”
“Will you?” I return the card to my deck. “So far, the Majors have been fairly aligned in a dislike for Naethor.”
“I wouldn’t gamble on that too much,” they murmur.
My interest is piqued. “And that means?”
“Maybe some of the older Majors, who know him better. But he’s already trying to whisper in the ears of those here, like Cael and Nidus.”
Good to know. But not my priority right now…“What about you? Has he succeeded in whispering in your ears?”
“Ignoring the fact that I think you’ll slay me if I try to turn you in…No, of course I’m not going to help that man. But why reveal yourself to me?”
“I need help, and it’s something only you can do.”
A frown tugs on their lips, as if they already know what I’m going to ask.
“I need the power of the Sun.”
“No, you don’t,” they say without missing a beat.
“I do,” I insist.
“Clara, that card is powerful—so powerful that once it is used, there is no going back for some. Its effects can be addictive.” There is the shadow of something horrible and terrifying in their eyes.
“I remember what you told me the first night I was in the Sanctum of the Majors.” I’m able to keep my voice calmer than I feel. “If there was another path, I would take it. But I’ve exhausted all options. It’s a risk that must be taken.”
“This risk—”
“Is the only way I might ever see my sister again,” I interrupt, a little too firm at first, but far more gentle at the end.
“She was kept in the lowest dungeon of Halazar for nearly two years. She was abused, endlessly, by Ravin and Glavstone. She is nothing more than a husk of herself. Her body has mended, but her mind…I can only imagine the turmoil that she lives in daily where numb silence is safer. But maybe, if it hurt less, she could return to her body from wherever she’s hidden away her soul.
Maybe that would be enough to show her that it is safe for her to be here again. ”
Thal’s stare drifts to a corner of the room. They shake their head, but it’s not a no. At least, it doesn’t feel that way. And that gut reaction is affirmed when they speak again.
“Removing pain…is a delicate thing,” Thal starts. “Once an individual has been liberated of it, even briefly, they are more likely to pursue the sensation. To have no burden on one’s shoulders can be euphoric. And that makes the return of life’s hurts even more challenging.”
“I don’t want to remove all burdens. Only enough—only the worst of it.”
“My card doesn’t discriminate. It removes pain. All pain.”
I sigh and rest my hand on one of the desks to wrestle with what they’re saying and its implications. There are no good answers here and no clear way forward.
“I still think we owe it to her to try,” I say softly. “Otherwise I’m afraid she’s going to spend forever sitting there like a living doll. I can’t see another way to bring her back. I just need her to realize it’s safe. Just for a few minutes. I think that’s all she’ll need.”
There are cards that can temporarily alter the mind in specific ways. Cards that can mend the flesh. But there is only one card I have ever known of that can remove pain completely, even from the mind.
And we both know it.
It’s Thal’s card or nothing.
“Please,” I say when the silence has dragged on to the point that I think they’re about to walk away from this whole exchange. I see my hope for my sister growing dimmer like sunlight fading on the horizon. “Just once.”
“Very well,” they finally say. Two words restore my hope. But something in the relief that spreads across my face makes their expression grow even warier. “But I will be the one to administer it. I will not give my card to you or anyone else.”
“Agreed.”
Thal still seems leery. “And I cannot stress enough…My card removes pain; it doesn’t mend or heal. The wound, whatever it might be, must be healed if you want real change. I can only offer treatment of the symptoms; I cannot be the cure.”
“I truly believe that all she needs is to know it’s safe to return to us.” Maybe it’s an ignorant hope, but what else do I have? “Do you have your card, or do you need to ink it?”
They pat their deck confidently.
“Then let’s go.” I step toward them both. Sorza has already demanded in on what I have going on behind the scenes. And since she succeeded in bringing me Thal, I know she will want to see where her efforts lead.
“Go?” Sorza proves me right with her eager tone.
“Now?” Thal asks.
“No time like the present.”