Tobias
The sound of glass breaking woke me with a start. I hadn’t realized I had fallen asleep while watching Quinn work, but apparently my lack of it had finally caught up with me. A bit of drool smudged the notes I had been copying.
Quinn’s back was to me—as it had been since our fight two days ago.
A vial of Eva’s blood had fallen to the floor next to her, shattering on the stone.
I blinked blearily as I watched the blood spread out from its shards in a small pool, a single drop dripping from the largest piece of glass to join the rest.
A sob tore from Quinn’s throat. I was on my feet in a second, rushing over. She only stared at the blood creeping towards her feet in an expanding puddle.
“Don’t move,” I ordered. “The glass…I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Quinn finally looked at me, her amber eyes brimming with unshed tears.
It was all I could do not to pull her into my arms. “We can get more. I’ll see if Marin is up to drawing it this time, so you don’t have to stop what you’re working on. And then—”
Quinn’s answering laugh was hysterical. “It’s not that.”
“Okay,” I said, fighting for calm even as it escaped me, my fear slipping through the bars I tried to cage it behind. “Then what is it?”
She sucked in a shaky breath. “I can see the virus. The second I use my magic on the slide it lights up like it wants to be found. We even have the godsdamn blueprints written by the psychopath who created it. And…I have no idea how to stop it.” A tear slid down her cheek, then another.
“All I can see is her blood. Dripping from the needles she hates as I stick them into her arm. I see it in microscopic detail as her body tries to fight against an invasion. I feel it staining my hands in my dreams every time I fall asleep.” Her lower lip quivered.
“But it’s not as bad as the hope on all their faces every time they look at me for a progress update.
Or the fear in her eyes every single time she remembers how much she’s forgetting. ”
“No one’s expecting you to find an immediate fix.” I took a step closer, glass crunching beneath my boot. “No one expects you to get it all right.”
“I do,” Quinn snapped. “When it comes to magic and medicine…this is exactly the sort of thing I should get right.”
“I think you need some sleep,” I murmured, not wanting to push too hard when she was obviously already at her limit.
Another humorless laugh. “What’s wrong, Maris? Haven’t you seen someone have a mental breakdown because they’re their best’s friend’s only hope and they’re failing?”
I inched forward, careful to avoid the largest shards of blood-covered glass. “You are not—”
Quinn swiped her arm across the counter, sending a beaker careening against the nearest wall. It shattered into a million pieces, the clear liquid inside spraying across the wall. A fine shimmer of glittering dust hung in the air for a moment before drifting to the floor.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. Quinn looked angrier than I had ever seen her as she glared at the broken glass like it had personally aggrieved her.
“Aren’t you going to tell me to get a grip and keep going?” The disgust in her voice made me flinch. “That your twin sister’s life hangs in the balance while I quite literally throw myself a pity party? Or remind me that breaking down now isn’t going to help anyone?”
She glared at me, the red in her cheeks matching the fire in her words. The fury in her eyes after days of seeing them so dull and clouded with worry may have been the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
I shook my head. “Break anything you like. Break everything if that’s what you need.”
If it’s what kept her from breaking, I’d let her break me too.
“You might want to save the vials.” I continued as I walked nonchalantly to one of the cabinets. I could feel her eyes on me as I opened it, then removed a large glass sphere I had noticed during our initial search of the room. “But I can’t imagine we’ll need this.”
Her eyes widened as she took in my meaning. I held it out to her in offering.
She shook her head. “You first.”
My surprise must have shown on my face because her eyes gleamed with satisfaction.
I shrugged. I wouldn’t let her bear this alone.
My grip tightened on the sphere. Then I hurled it as hard as I could at the wall.
Quinn’s eyes went wide as it exploded into a sparkling mist of fine shards, the larger fragments cracking as they hit the floor.
My gaze quickly returned to hers, taking in the flash of delight that was quickly masked by self-condemnation.
Before she could say anything, I strode to the cabinet, then casually tossed her an oblong bowl.
She caught it reflexively then scowled. “What if I’d dropped it?”
I rolled my eyes. “I know you better than that, Sagray. Now throw.”
Quinn’s eyes narrowed. A sudden gleam of red flickered in them, gone as quickly as it came.
For a second I thought she might fling the bowl right back at me.
Then she threw it against the wall, grunting with the effort.
A smile curved her lips, the shatter of glass glimmering in the corner of my eye.
“Another?”
I didn’t wait for an answer as I found a decanter in the cabinet behind Silvius’s desk. The faint hint of alcohol stung my nose. He was never outwardly drunk, not like many of the guards. But that scent…
His breath was heavy and sour as he bent over me to take my blood. Aviel had drained my magic, leaving me so weak I couldn’t do anything but instinctively cringe away from the needle. The syringe pierced my already battered vein anyway.
I wanted to scream, though I knew I couldn’t. I wanted to fight, but there was nothing I could do to stop this…stop him. My next breath was laced with something bitter and stale as Silvius leaned closer.
“So docile today,” Silvius sneered. “We’ll make you bow before your king soon enough.”
“Tobias?”
My eyes found hers, something fragile passing between us before I dragged that memory back where it belonged. Walking over to Quinn, I wrapped my fingers around her wrist to lift her hand. A shock traveled up my arm, the spark a dire reminder I was alive.
I let go the second she grasped the handle.
“Again.”
My demand was low, almost insidious.
Quinn shook her head. “Your turn.”
I tilted my head to the side consideringly, then gave her a slight bow. Leaving the decanter in her hold, I retrieved the accompanying crystal goblets and raised them for her appraisal. I nearly dropped both at the smile she rewarded me with.
Drawing my arm back like I was about to throw a baseball, I hurled the first goblet at the wall, then launched the second in quick succession. They exploded with two sharp, crystalline cracks followed by a spray of glass, each piece catching the light like tiny, jagged stars.
Quinn mockingly lifted her leg like she was winding up for a pitch before she threw. The burst of laughter that escaped her when it shattered was real and lovely and far too perfect.
It faded too soon. The second it did, she seemed to deflate, backing away from the mess we made together. She slumped against the counter behind her, staring at the broken aftermath scattered across the floor.
An overpowering urge drew me closer—something inexorable, something dangerous.
I placed one hand on either side of her, my fingers dipping into the metal countertop as I trapped her in place.
She stared up at me with a mix of defiance laced with something fragile.
Being this near felt excruciatingly intimate, though I couldn’t bring myself to walk away.
I leaned closer, unable to stop the urge to breathe her in. My voice was low, almost a growl, as I asked, “Better?”
Her throat rose and fell with a swallow. “Surprisingly, yes.”
“Good.”
A lump rose in my throat at the way she looked at me. That trust…I didn’t deserve it.
I backed away, putting some necessary distance between us even as every instinct screamed at me to go back to her.
“Back to monosyllables again, are we?” Quinn let out a resigned sounding sigh. “Here I thought we were making progress.”
I would take that hint of teasing in her tone, the levity despite her obvious exhaustion. Especially if it meant the hopelessness had faded from her voice.
“For you, I’ll suffer through full sentences.”
Her smile was brief before it fell away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up. I know after the mask…” She trailed off, wincing, like even the word might set me off.
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” I said tightly.
“You don’t have to tiptoe around it. It took some time to remember that speaking aloud won’t…
hurt. Th-that speaking at all…” I winced at the stutter that flared to life as if to declare exactly what the prolonged cost of those years in the mask had done to me.
I knew the exact number of years down to the days, hours, and endless minutes I had spent in silence, letting the mask's magic train me into submission. Sometimes I wondered if the scratches I clawed into the stone of my cell still tallied each excruciating day.
“There’s no need to be embarrassed around me, you know.
” Quinn took a cautious step closer like she was afraid I might run from her.
“I don’t think any less of you, and I never could.
After what you went through, keeping Eva and me safe…
your refusal to give in to him…” She swallowed hard.
“You should be proud of your resilience.”
Something felt like it was breaking in my chest at the acknowledgement, even as the cell I shoved those memories into rattled like they wanted out. Gritting my teeth, I closed my eyes, trying not to let them overwhelm me.
Quinn didn’t seem to expect a response. When I finally opened my eyes, she had returned to her notes, flipping through the work we had done today.
She smiled sadly as she caught me watching her. “How is it that you never seem scared of anything? You’ll have to show me how you do it one day.”
Is that what she thought? That I wasn’t afraid? I had spent every day for four years being terrified, every second certain that I would let something slip and lead Aviel to Eva…and to Quinn.
And now, I was always afraid. Of space, of the open sky. Of waking up one day and finding myself back in my cell, entombed for eternity as I realized that this was all a dream.
Quinn looked away. I opened my mouth, trying to find the words to voice the fact that she was mistaken.
That my fears might have been suppressed, but I spend every day adding to the prison that held them, guarding them as they fought to break free.
Even now, I could hear the rattling chains, the clanking of iron bars. The incessant dripping…
With effort, I shoved those memories back where they belonged. A key turned in a lock and that familiar numbness slid through me, taking the place of my panic.
Quinn crossed something out, her pen scratching against the notebook as she added an addendum.
“I’ll clean up,” I muttered, wondering where I was going to find a broom. Or would the magic that kept the castle clean beat me to it?
“No need,” Quinn said with a sigh. “As I said, I may have identified the virus that’s causing this, but I don’t know enough about the magic needed to counteract it.”
“Maybe Marin…”
Quinn was already shaking her head. “It’s time to visit Mayim.
Like Marin said, they have the resources we need at the Enclave.
” She nodded as if deciding something. “My healer friend there has been pushing for me to bring my research to Mayim anyway. Now that we know what we need to counteract, it’s time to take a trip through the mirror together. ”
Together.
Despite everything, the word made my reckless heart clench. It didn’t help that she was looking at me like she needed me as much as I needed her.
She had no idea the depths of my selfish longing.
And she had no clue how much her presence was chipping away at my control while forcing me to acknowledge exactly how disconnected I had become.
But giving in and admitting my feelings wasn’t what was best for her, even if the thought didn’t terrify me.
Quinn deserved someone whole—not this shattered version of me.
I bowed slightly to avoid her gaze, sweeping one hand out in invitation. “Lead the way, Sagray.”