The knocking started as a patter. I tossed and turned, shrugging it off, but it grew into a steady rapping that was impossible to ignore. I hissed as I sat up, every inch of my body stiff from the days of relentless training. I threw my blanket to the floor, whipping my gaze around my little room. It was still dark.
Had Aranare come to collect me for combat early?
I swung my legs out of bed, and the old springs groaned as I bounced up. Tugging on warm gloves from my dresser, I ran a hand through my tangled bed hair.
The knocking sounded again, dragging me from my thoughts.
“I’m coming!” I muttered as I rushed to the tower window and opened the shutters. But it wasn’t Aranare standing at my granddad’s door dressed for combat as I had expected; it was Skye.
“I’m sorry.” She sniffed. “I had nowhere else to go.”
“Stay there, I’m coming down.”
I took the steps from the attic two at a time, ignoring Granddad’s grumble as I ran past his bedroom door.
“Oh, Morgana,” Skye wailed as I swung open the front door, throwing her arms around my neck.
She pulled back from me, and I registered her black eye and split lip. This time, they hadn’t been covered by a foundation. This time, they were fresh.
Skye was trembling, and her sadness was nauseating as I led her inside and up the stairs to my bedroom.
“I’ll make you some tea, then you can tell me everything,” I said quietly, shutting the door behind me and padding back to the kitchen.
Skye was taking deep breaths, eyes closed, when I reentered the room. I handed her a hot tea, noticing the mascara streaks running down her cheeks. Her broken heart filled the room, and I wished I had a better grasp on my mind’s magic so I could shield myself from her overwhelming emotions.
“I’m sorry this happened to you.” I swallowed a huge, guilty lump in my throat. I’d been so caught up in my training, the war of the Kingdom of the Deep, and dwelling on Finn’s betrayal that I had only visited Skye at Bayside twice since I’d been back.
“It’s not your fault.” She smiled sadly and patted the edge of the bed, inviting me to sit.
“What happened?” I breathed as I slid in next to her.
“P-Parker, he—he...” She bit her lip as tears cascaded through her long lashes and down her bruised cheeks.
I reached out to touch her matted hair, but pulled my hand back as her sadness consumed me.
“His phone was on the kitchen counter while I was making dinner.” Skye sniffed again. “And a message appeared on the screen. ‘I miss you,baby,’ it said. I confronted him, and he told me I was crazy. He said I ‘always make shit up in my head,’ and then... then he did this to me.” She gestured to her lip, and her back heaved. “I snuck out this morning while he was sleeping.”
“You’re staying with me tonight.” I rested my hand over hers, and she lifted her bruised eyes to meet mine.
“I—I can’t. It’s his thirtieth birthday, and he’s having a party on his yacht. I planned the whole thing.”
The shrill chiming of my alarm clock interrupted our conversation, and I glanced at the open window. Muted light was now spilling in through it. Shit. Training.
“You are not going,” I said firmly. “You are going to come and... exercise with me, and then we’ll get pizza and read romance books in bed.”
Aranare was waiting for us on the grassy clifftop beside the old graveyard. Today he’d worn a navy zip-up anorak and track pants, which reminded me of the Scottish coaches shouting at the football games that Granddad liked to watch on TV.
Aranare’s arms were folded over his chest, and the wind ruffled his hair as the rising sun turned the cloud-strewn sky pink behind him. His eyes fell on Skye, who had covered her bruises as best she could and was wearing one of my hoodies and a pair of my jeans, hair put up in a messy ponytail. Somehow, she looked even more beautiful like this.
Aranare noticed, too. His mouth twitched in approval, but his amber eyes darkened as he took in the bruises. “What happened to you?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Skye avoided his gaze, looking out over thegray ocean.
“Alright, then.” He cleared his throat, his cheeks coloring. “If you’re here for training with me, don’t think I’ll go easy on you.”
I bit my lip to hide a smile. In the two weeks I’d trained with him, I’d never seen his confidence waver, let alone his cheeks catch a blush.
“You ready?” Aranare asked me as he positioned his wooden sword before him.
