32. Zeina
ZEINA
There was an old Jarrian phrase for it—the time between night and sunrise, just before the promise of daylight. No modern words could explain its meaning with such elegance, and it bothered her that she couldn’t remember it.
Although the night still hung over the world, blanketing it in quiet nothingness, she could see in front of her as if there were light.
Her bare feet hit the stone pathway in a cool, soft rhythm. She snuck along its ridges until she stood in front of the same ladder she climbed every morning, the one that lifted her up above the wall to the Hydra perch.
She was accustomed to this journey now as it had become her pre-dawn ritual.
Climb the wall, settle against its stone cubby, and watch the Hydra wake.
She always arrived while they slept, their bodies tangled in one messy heap.
Then, slowly, with the sun, they rose—stretching their long necks and shaking their wings apart, as if crusted together from a lifetime of dust. She usually left before they started squawking for their breakfast, at which point the students on morning feeding rounds would climb up to the same perch and feed them scraps.
But today, Zeina didn’t get to watch the Hydra or the sun wake because a dark ominous cloud filled the sky. No, not a cloud, she realized. As it grew closer, Zeina could make out millions of small, dark-skinned creatures with beady eyes—birds clustered together, heading for the main castle.
Frantically, she climbed back down the wall, slipping and falling the last twenty feet.
Her body hit the ground hard, but thankfully nothing broke—at least not that she could tell.
She scrambled to her feet and cursed as sharp pain shot up her side.
There was no time to consider it though as she dashed to reach the castle.
The swarm made it there first, crashing into the windows, breaking the stained glass into pieces, littering the ground below. Her feet crunched as she ran over the glass shards, and she cursed herself for not putting on her shoes before heading to the Hydra perch.
Inside, the creatures swarmed the empty hallways, destroying anything and everything, tearing the place apart. Paintings were ripped off the walls, torn to shreds on the ground. The swarm pushed through heavy wooden doors, bending them off their hinges.
She stood frozen, firmly rooted in place as the chaos ensued, taking in the hysteria.
“GO!” Professor Kaplana appeared, yelling as the creatures clouded her vision. “These are Blind Bats; they will suck your pupils from your eyes and rip out your sclera! MOVE!”
Zeina knew she should run. Logic told her as much. But something else, instinct maybe, told her the Bats were searching for something. Something valuable.
She looked around at the path of destruction as the horde thinned, the birds heading north toward the dorms. Whatever they were looking for, one thing was for certain: they thought it was here, within the Academy walls.
The castle cleared as the last of the Bats disappeared out the windows and doors. Kaplana’s outline came into focus, and Zeina noticed she had large goggles over her eyes. Before the professor could reach her, Zeina ran.
????
Zeina perched on the roof of the Defender apartments.
She didn’t come here much; there were too many Defenders trained to notice every sound, every movement.
Most of the students were too afraid of the graduate Defenders to even walk in this area.
But it was the best spot to watch the Bats as they retreated into the distance, and Zeina felt so drawn to them, she couldn’t help herself.
The Bats were almost out of sight, absorbed into the sky, when a voice below caught her attention.
“How?” Lennox whispered, concern on his face.
“The creature was… influenced.” The other figure faced away from her, but she knew his voice and his movements. Ren.
“Phoenix.” Lennox dragged a hand over his face. There was an incredible sadness to his energy. “Was it?”
“I can’t say for sure, but who else?”
Zeina shifted slightly to get a better look, causing a small pebble to drop from the roof. Lennox looked up, and Zeina ducked, flattening her body to the scorching clay tile. Ren’s gaze followed Lennox’s, before they restarted their conversation.
“We need to do something,” Lennox argued.
“The plan hasn’t changed.”
“But—”
“Taluna Sethra.” Ren placed a hand on Lennox’s shoulder. “Give it time.”
Lennox nodded and they both disappeared down the street. After a few minutes, Zeina peeled herself off the tiles, shimmying down to the street below.
Taluna Sethra.
That was it. The word to describe the time between darkness and dawn. Its full meaning clear in her mind: nothing hidden in the dark, nor the light, is ever clear. It is the space in between that is the best mirror of truth.