Chapter 43
We use passages and the smaller and quieter stairways rarely used by students. I double back and slow my pace multiple times to make sure we’re not being followed, pausing as we go deeper into the academy to listen for any faint echoes of movement.
Only when I’m confident we’re alone, and deep enough that the likelihood of running into anyone is next to nothing, do I take the direct route to Arina. Thal and Sorza say nothing, but I see them clocking the pathway we take, their eyes marking each sculpture and decaying tapestry as landmarks.
They will know where Arina is…But I trust them both.
Gregor is on his feet the moment we arrive, hand hovering by his deck on his biceps as he stares at the three of us. His eyes dart between Thal and Sorza, the line of his brows deepening.
“They’re here to help Arina,” I say.
“Actually, I’m mostly here because I’m nosy and she didn’t explicitly tell me to get lost,” Sorza chimes in with a wry grin.
I shoot her a pointed look that says, Not helpful.
“I’m here to help.” Thal sounds more begrudging than I’d like. But at least they’re still saying they’ll assist. They turn to me. “Where is she?”
“Through there.” I point to the cracked door.
Thal doesn’t waste a beat starting for the door. Gregor watches them with narrowed eyes the entire time. He shifts his weight, as if fighting to prevent himself from bolting forward.
“You have so much to share,” Sorza says to me. I can’t tell if she’s oblivious to my turmoil or if she’s intentionally making an effort to lighten the mood. “I knew you were getting up to something good if you changed your whole face.”
“And why would I tell any more details to someone who’s just here because they’re ‘nosy’?” I ask dryly, focus still on the door to Arina’s room. Do I go in? Or do I give Thal some space? I’ve already pushed them far enough; I don’t want to push any harder.
She laughs. “Don’t be so serious.”
“Taking you both here is a risk. Don’t push your luck,” I caution her.
“I’m an orphan who was found abandoned at the edge of a monster-infested forest. Do I look like someone who is particularly daunted by risks?
” Sorza’s tone is light, but her eyes are briefly overcome with a shadow as large as one of the legendary beasts I’ve only ever heard rumors of.
“Besides, you’re a smart one. If you really thought it was that risky to trust me, you wouldn’t have brought me or trusted me to get Thal in the first place. ”
“Your confidence is astounding,” I mutter, meeting Gregor’s eyes. He says nothing, but his stare speaks volumes about how uneasy he is with this whole situation.
“I’m going to check on Thal and Arina,” I ultimately decide. “Gregor, please give Sorza some of the broad strokes of what’s been happening here.”
Gregor gives me a piercing stare as I cross the room but doesn’t object. I hear the low rumble of his voice as I push open the door Thal left cracked.
Arina is sleeping, arms folded over her stomach.
I know that’s how Gregor arranges them when he tucks her into bed.
Her skin is regaining its luster, and even her hair is growing back faster thanks to proper nutrition and time.
It almost looks like a proper hairstyle instead of just awkward regrowth.
“Should I wake her up?” I ask, taking my normal position on the edge of her bed. Sorza and Gregor hover beyond the open door, watching as they converse quietly.
Thal stands on the opposite side of the bed, regarding her with an unreadable expression. They obviously haven’t administered their card yet. “No, she’ll wake up on her own.” Their eyes flick to mine. “Are you ready?”
Dread and doubt fill me at the question. But I ultimately stand by my decision. “Yes.”
They reach into their pocket and retrieve their deck. The Sun slips out, shining silver in the light streaming through the window. The card melts into the sunbeams.
I expected the card to be more like Silas’s Chariot—a blinding flash of light.
But instead, the magic is a gradual sunrise.
A golden glow spills from their hand, soft and warm, and then cascades over Arina.
The glimmering gold light chases away the shadows that were lingering over her and in the corners of the room.
The air warms, and even I let out a sigh of relief as the tension I carry with me every moment of the day eases from merely being in the presence of the card.
Arina twitches. Thal steps back, gaining space, but doesn’t leave. Arina’s lips part slightly, and she exhales.
Her eyes flutter open. The late-afternoon sun complements their natural, gilded hue. Those eyes turn to meet mine, and my heart stops. The motion of the people in the doorway stops. Everything stops. And we all hang on her next inhale.
And the slight smile before she says, “Clara.”
My name on her lips has me doubling over, clinging to the bedsheets. “Arina,” I sob. “Arina!” I’m scrambling to grab her. To clutch her to me so that she can never be taken from me ever again. I hold her so tightly it’s as if I’m trying to meld our skin together.
My sister.
My blood.
You know me, even still. You know me. You know yourself. I didn’t lose you.
“You recognize me?” I pull away.
“You don’t think I’d recognize my sister no matter her form?” She gently squeezes my arms in a calm, friendly way. “Plus, you showed me your new face—you explained it.”
“I wasn’t sure if you heard me,” I whisper.
“Yes, I can see why you would think that.” She gives a slight nod, and her eyes scan the room. “Where am I? The academy, right?”
Every word is calm and even. Serene. Perfectly peaceful. I should feel more relieved. This is what I wanted. Except…she’s absent the fiery edge my little sister usually had. Her anger has been doused, her rage quieted. No, more than that, all her emotions have vanished.
Thal warned me of this. But seeing it is different.
More than that, I didn’t expect the card to take caution, worry, or fear from her.
They warned me of all pain being removed, not all emotion.
But how much of fear is rooted in pain? Terror at the idea of being in pain?
At the memory of past hurt? Can someone who doesn’t know pain be afraid?
What is there to fear when nothing seems to hurt you?
How much of joy exists only because it is in contrast to the hurt we know is out there?
How much of motivation stems from the desire to move past or avoid pain?
Questions I’ve never even considered until this moment.
“Yes, we’re in the academy. Deep, though. Hidden.” I rest my hand on hers. “You’re safe here, I promise.”
She turns to the window. “Safe,” she repeats thoughtfully. “I suppose I wasn’t very safe for a very long time…”
“Arina…” Gregor staggers forward, unable to hold himself back any longer. I’m grateful for even the few seconds he managed to offer us to have our own moment together. Tears well in his eyes.
“It’s good to see you again,” she says in this new placid manner I’ve never heard from her before. “Is the rest of the club here?”
“They…” Gregor trails off, hopeless eyes meeting mine.
I rise to the occasion, trying to swallow the lump in my throat and failing. “Bristara is dead. Jura died helping us escape Halazar. Twino and Ren have left—they’re living their own life now, for themselves. We’re what’s left of the Starcrossed Club.”
“Oh.” The sound Arina makes is pure nonchalance, and Gregor and I suck in a pained breath in unison.
I’m doing this to show her it’s safe to return to her body—to start the emotional healing process—not to mourn, I remind myself, even as the ache stings. Thal watches me instead of Arina, and I’ve little doubt they’re judging how I’m handling this.
“ ‘Oh’?” Gregor says. “ ‘Oh’? Is that all you have to say? I thought they were your family as much as ours.” His words oscillate between anger and hurt. He takes a step forward.
“Don’t.” I stand, shooting him a glare. “Remember, she’s under the influence of a card.”
Gregor’s hands ball into fists, and his head jerks away so he can stare into the corner of the room.
“We looked for you, I swear,” I say softly, clutching her hand. “We thought you were dead, or I would’ve never let you spend as long as you did there.” The words nearly choke me. “I am so sorry, Arina. But it’s safe now, and I will make sure they can never get you again. Do you understand that?”
“I do. It’s all right now.” Arina squeezes my hand with a smile. “Don’t beat yourself up over what happened.”
“How are you the one comforting me?” I croak, shaking my head. “We let you down. I failed you, abandoned you.”
“You didn’t abandon me. I was held captive and you didn’t even know. But I’m fine now,” she says, a tiny smile still plastered on her lips.
“I…I’m glad. That’s what I wanted you to know. That you’re safe now,” I say weakly, ignoring the unease creeping across my flesh like a thousand crawling ants. This is what I wanted. I wanted her to see and hear me, and she is.
So why does it feel so wrong?
“What did they do to you?” Gregor asks.
“It doesn’t matter.” I shoot him a glare.
“We have been compromised so many times; it is good to know if there are any outstanding risks,” he says calmly. It makes sense, but the Gregor I know would never ask such a thing given her state. It sounds like something Vaduin or the Worldkeepers would say, and I wonder if they put him up to it.
“Any risks are moot now,” I attempt to counter. “So much has changed; all her information is out of date.”
“I don’t mind sharing if you think it’s helpful.” Arina overrules me and sits a little straighter.
“You shouldn’t strain yourself. Just focus on relaxing for now.” In my periphery, I see Thal as I speak, their worried expression becoming more and more haunted the longer this goes on.
“It’s no strain,” Arina assures me.
“Arina…” My weak objection is ignored completely.