Chapter 29 Gilded Silence #2
"Miralyte." Tomos's voice was softer now, edged with the kind of desperate affection that cut deeper than any blade. "Talk to me. Please."
I stopped walking, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. The words I wanted to say clawed at my throat, demanding release. Tell him about the rot. Tell him about Gryven. Tell him that in a few hours I would be dead.
But I couldn't. Because if I spoke the truth aloud, it would become real in a way that couldn't be undone.
The vessel dining hall fell silent the moment I crossed the threshold. Conversations died mid-sentence, spoons clattered against bowls, and every pair of eyes in the room turned toward me like I was some mythical creature.
I supposed, in a way, I was.
The weight of their stares pressed against my skin, but I kept my chin high, my steps measured. Fear was a luxury I couldn't afford. Not when time was bleeding away like sand through an hourglass.
"Mira!"
Pelbie's voice cut through the suffocating quiet like a blade through silk.
She launched herself from her seat beside Brond, nearly knocking over her chair in her haste to reach me.
Her arms wrapped around me with desperate strength, as if she could anchor me to the world through sheer force of will.
"You're alive," she whispered against my shoulder, her voice cracking. "I thought... we thought..."
"Shh." I pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, seeing my own fears reflected in their depths. "I'll explain later."
The four of us settled at Pelbie's table, the scrape of chairs against stone unnaturally loud in the continued silence. Every other vessel in the room pretended to eat while hanging on our every word, their curiosity a living thing that crawled across my skin.
"Mira, you have to talk to us," Pelbie said the moment we sat down, her voice pitched low but urgent. "The rumors…" She shook her head. "People are saying you opened a portal. That you have magic."
I pushed food around my plate without tasting it, my mind already racing ahead to what needed to happen next. "Some rumors are just rumors."
"And some aren't." Brond's voice was quiet, but there was steel beneath the softness. "What's happening, Miralyte?"
I looked at each of them in turn. Pelbie with her wide, worried eyes. Brond with his steady strength. Even Tomos, who'd been silent since we entered but whose tension I could feel radiating outward like heat from a forge.
These people cared about me. They'd become something I'd never thought I'd have again after losing my family. But caring about someone meant wanting to protect them, and protection was a luxury none of us could afford.
"Not here," I said finally.
Pelbie's room was a mirror of my own. Small, functional, designed for temporary occupancy rather than comfort. But it had thick walls and a door that locked, which made it perfect for what I needed to do.
I pulled the vial from my pocket the moment the door closed behind us. The blood inside caught the lamplight like liquid garnets, beautiful and terrible in equal measure.
"Here." I pressed it into Pelbie's hands before I could lose my nerve. "Take this to the eastern courtyard. There's an altar there, carved with runes. Drop my blood on the center stone, and it will open a portal."
Pelbie stared at the vial like it might bite her. "A portal to where?"
"Home. Back to the mortal realm."
"What?" The word exploded from her lips. "Mira, what are you talking about? Why would we need a portal? We're not leaving without you."
"Yes, you are." I kept my voice steady through sheer force of will. "The three of you are leaving tonight."
"No." Pelbie shook her head violently. "Not without you. We stick together. That's what we agreed."
"Plans change."
"Not this one." She thrust the vial back toward me, but I stepped away. "I'm not taking this. I'm not leaving you."
"Pelbie—"
"No!" Her voice cracked with emotion. "You vanish for hours, return as pale as a ghost, then tell us to leave you behind? "
The kind who deserves to live, I thought but didn't say. The kind who shouldn't have to watch another person she cares about die.
"I promise I'll come later," I said instead, the lie tasting like ash on my tongue. "There are things I must see to before I go."
"What things?" Tomos spoke for the first time since we'd entered the room. "What aren't you telling us?"
I met his gaze, letting him see just enough truth to satisfy him without revealing everything. "Things that would bring you all peril, if you stay."
"Then we face them together."
"No." The word came out harder than I intended. "You don't understand. This isn't about bravery or loyalty. This is about survival. Your survival."
"And what about yours?" Pelbie's eyes filled with tears she refused to let fall. "What will become of you while we run?"
I thought of Gryven's chambers. Of the twilight hour that crept closer with each passing moment. Of the choice that would either save the man I loved or destroy us both.
"I'll be fine," I lied.
Pelbie's tears finally spilled over, cutting silver tracks down her cheeks. Brond's jaw worked silently. Tomos watched me with the kind of knowing that made my chest tight.
I crossed to Pelbie in two quick strides, pulling her into a fierce embrace. She felt small in my arms, fragile in a way that reminded me of everything I was fighting to protect. Her shoulders shook against me, but she held on like I was the only solid thing in a world that had turned to smoke.
"You still owe me a game of dice," she whispered against my shoulder, her voice thick with tears. "Don't forget that."
The words broke something in my chest. Such a simple thing. Such a normal thing. The kind of promise friends made when they assumed they'd have tomorrow to keep it.
"I won't forget."
She pulled back to look at me, her eyes searching mine for answers I couldn't give. "Promise me you'll be careful."
"I promise."
Another lie. They were coming easier now, each one a small death that made the larger one feel inevitable.
"Keep the vial," I said, backing toward the door. "Use it. Promise me."
Before any of them could argue, I was gone, slipping through the corridor like a shadow fleeing dawn. The twilight hour crept closer with each heartbeat, but I had one more thing to do. One more lie to tell. One more goodbye to steal.
The dice game would have to wait forever now.