“I’m sorry, Nox.” Daje’s voice wavers, and his shoulders rock with silent sobs, my mother scooting higher on the bed to wrap him in her embrace.
Numbly, I sit down on the edge of Elora’s bed, staring at the tears that line her cheeks as she whispers, “I’m sorry your friend did not make it home.”
Her words, so filled with grief, sit thick and heavy in the room. Nox spins on his heel, breaking free of our father’s hold as he barrels towards the exit. The door bangs shut behind him, and Elora’s shoulders round in defeat.
“I’ll go after him—”
“No,” my father interrupts me, his red-rimmed eyes meeting mine. My heart cracks at the devastation within them, at how his chest heaves as if each breath is a struggle. “Let me.”
The quiet that blooms in the air when he leaves is suffocating. No one moves, as if we all recognize that doing so will settle us into this new reality. One where Cass is gone.
I will never again hear one of his taunting jokes. I will never again watch in awe as he wields his blades, his skills growing masterful over the years. I pinch my lips to hold back the mournful howl that tries to break free at the thought that the orphanage, a place so near and dear to him, will never again be lit up by his presence. His is a loss that this world does not deserve, one thatNoxdoes not deserve, yet fate was cruel enough to deal such a horrific hand.
Eventually, my mother stands from Daje’s bed, wiping the remaining tears from beneath her eyes before brushing her hands over her skirt. “Tonight, we feel everything this tragedy warrants without abandon.” Her gaze turns towards Daje and Elora. “We rest after a hard-fought journey.” Then she looks to me. “And then tomorrow, we ensure that his sacrifice was not in vain.”
Nox acts surprised when he sees my setup upon returning to his rooms later that night, my pillow and blanket spread out on one of the couches. I sit up, massaging one of the dragon stones imbued with Rhea’s magic in my hand. There is no way I am going to let him spend the evening alone, and I let him know as much. Though his sigh is resigned, he doesn’t protest my demand that he grab his own pillow and blanket and take the couch across from me. Lying in the darkness of the room, only the light of a half moon shining through the windows, I expect the silence to remain between us as I continue rolling the smooth dark stone in my hand, the feel of it warm.
“After Father and I talked, I went to Galen,” he says quietly, the words tumbling out slowly as if they are a secret he still isn’t sure he wants shared.
“Are you feeling alright?” A stupid fucking question, given the circumstances, but Nox understands what I mean.
“I feel like a stranger. My body thrums like it’s on fire half the time and aches like it’s struggling to contain my missing magic the other half. It’s like I’m being split in two, and after learning what we did, I just— I don’t have the energy to fight against it.”
“You asked Galen for more of your tinctures?” I guess.
Nox’s pause is significant, and then his voice comes out rough, a blade scraped over stone. “I asked for enough to put me asleep for days.”
“Are you going to take it?” I ask, reserving judgement because Iwouldunderstand if he did. If he needs to escape for a while, even if I know him to be stronger than that.
“No. But isn’t it pathetic that I considered it? That, for a moment, I was weak enough to think I deserved to just…pretendnone of this is happening?” I turn my head in his direction, unable to see more than a faint outline of his profile. “I’ve failed so many times lately, and a part of me just wanted to exist somewhere other than my failures.”
“Do you believe me to be the smartest person you know?” I ask, the abrupt perceived change in conversation choking a broken laugh out of him.
“I do.”
“Good. Then perhaps you’ll heed the weight of my words when I tell you that none of this is your fault, Nox. Not Rhea being taken. Not Cass’s d-death.” I stumble over the word as my throat tightens. “Noneof it. These are notyourfailures but the failures of the people around us. Of the people we should have been able to trust implicitly.” Nox doesn’t respond, but his quick breaths tell me that maybe he’s trying to hold himself together too. “And, in some cases, there is nothing and no one to blame other than bad luck,” I add quietly, squeezing my eyes shut.
“I owe you so many apologies. You’re a much better sister than I am a brother.”
“This is true.” His soft chuckle joins mine before the room grows quiet again. “It will be okay, Nox. I promise.”
“You have no business promising things you can’t prove. Doesn’t that go against all your logical rules?”
“It does,” I agree, setting the stone down on the table with the pile of others and laying my hands on my belly as I picture my last interaction with Cass in my head. “And yet I promise it anyway.”
Early morning comes quickly, and it brings with it an overcast winter sky that matches my sullen mood. Sarai wakes Nox and I with gentle knocks on his door before the sun has fully risen, explaining that Elora and Daje are already waiting for us at the secret location we had agreed upon prior to them leaving. I see the same hesitancy in Nox’s gaze that I feel in my chest as we set off, trying to navigate plans we had put in motion amongst unfathomable grief. But my mother’s words ring true in my head. The loss of Cass wouldnotbe in vain.
Dressed to combat the cold, we sneak out of Nox’s room to avoid the guards posted beyond the door. I keep my attention on my brother the entire time we scale down the side of the palace, timing our escape to when there is a gap in the patrol of the grounds. I can tell when we finally hit the bottom he is frustrated by my watchful eyes, but I merely shrug as I brush past him. He can be annoyed by me all he wants, but I willalwaysdo my best to ensure he is safe.
Hidden within the forest, we make our way to the place where we hope we can make a new Mirror. The forge we chose is only used when there is an overflow of work for the palaceblacksmith, but our father encouraged us to work quickly just in case. Yet that is the catch—I’m not sure if we can. Can the fire of a forge get hot enough to melt what has been created by dragon fire? None of us know, and the unknown feels just as scary as getting caught working on the Mirror without telling the council.
Made of stone and covered in crawling ivy, the forge looks fairly unassuming from the outside. Smoke already billows out of its short chimney, but it’s the man standing outside the front door, hand resting comfortably on the black hilt of his sword, that slows my steps as Nox and I near.
“Max?”
“Good morning, Bahira. Your Majesty,” he says, lowering into a deep bow.
“Just Nox is fine, thank you, Max. And none of…that.” Nox gestures to Max’s frame.
