If it burned him. . .
I took a breath and redirected my thoughts back to his question, not that I wanted to talk about it. At least I didn’t think I did, until it all rushed out.
“Do you know what it’s like to stare out a window waiting for someone? Past the point you know they’re not coming, but you wait anyway because you don’t knowwhythey’renot coming. And that seems like . . . like maybe there was a misunderstanding, like they were held up. Then, one day, you realize you’ve been staring out the window so long there’s nothing left of you for them to even come home to, because every opportunity you had tobesomethingis already gone, wasted in waiting. And so, trying to understand Helen is like” — my arm swooped a little, the porcelain plate a hundred pounds in my hand as the floor seemed to sway under my feet — “a constant reminder of the parts of myself I lost waiting for her. And she’s been . . .”
My throat was sore, and I was visibly having a hard time breathing.
“Ember.” Leland’s jaw worked slowly. “Thank you for telling me that.” His demeanor had shifted entirely. Formal. Reserved. “I need you to take your plate to your room now.” His eyes, having gone cloudy, would not meet mine, and he twisted his torso in the direction of the fourth-year table, seeking someone out. “Will you please do that for me? Now?”
Rayne sprang up and rushed over, and before I’d even left the buffet area, she embraced him in a tight hug. I was shocked, not sure what I’d done, though Rayne kept repeating to me, “You didn’t do anything. You did nothing wrong.”
But looking at Leland, his shoulders hunched and his arms on the cusp of tense trembling, I wasn’t sure I believed her. He didn’t even lift his head to thank the kitchen workers, and he always thanked them.
My heart twisting, I headed out of the cafeteria, trying not to make eye contact with Belinda as I slipped past the dining tables.
* * *
That evening, the paper reported the Oracle had risen from the depths of the Silverstone swamp, chanting the missing Sevens were in danger. Farrah Prolix was sticking to her story that I washelping the Allwitches smuggle Aspirants into Alchemia, which didn’t make any sense because there wereshadowsinvolved in the abductions. But Farrah was convinced the Allwitches were framing Dark Witches and taking Aspirants to strengthen their numbers.
The animal handler had found nothing to refute her story, though Starvos did get to pet his bloodhound, which was on the cover. And after staring at the paper far too long, I messaged Leland.
Ember Blackburn:Why didn’t you tell me you were a Seven?
Leland Stray:Because I’m trying to forget.
Ember Blackburn:I looked it up. There aren’t that many fourth-year Sevens. Four have gone missing. Aren’t you worried you’re next?
Leland Stray:There’s a package at your door.
Ember Blackburn:What?
Leland Stray:A package, Ember.
Clutching my transmitter, I walked to the door and brought in a medium-sized package wrapped in thick brown paper. I opened it on my bed and unpacked T-shirts, with white long sleeves and the royal-blue logos of the Creation Academy’s mascot, the desert sea serpent. The shirts were cool to the touch, as if refrigerated, or like his cooling jacket, laced with cooling magic because I’d overheated earlier.
My transmitter buzzed.
Leland Stray:Another thing. You’re not running alone anymore.
Leland Stray:And I’m sorry for earlier.
* * *
In the middle of the night, I woke up screaming. I rolled out of bed, stumbled on unbalanced legs, and crawled across the area rug to hurl into the fire.
Skye sprang out of her bed and shoved a wastebasket under my chin, pulling it away when my stomach stopped convulsing, so the smell wouldn’t trigger my gag reflex again.
My nose stung. Hot bile burned the back of my throat and carved through my sinuses. I scooted to lean back against my bed, then dropped my head against the frame and shut my eyes tight to stop water from leaking out of them. My stomach was tired, so tired. My abdomen rose and fell in a rhythm so jagged, it almost felt like breathing wasn’t worth it.
To take my mind off it, I started thinking about Gray. I thought about the night we were supposed to camp, but he didn’t come, only my mind was tired and twisted it. I relived a different version of that night, one where Gray showed up to my backyard early. We set up the tent together, and we slept in past breakfast, under one blanket, with his arm around me.
Our door slammed, shaking me from the fantasy. My perception held on just enough for me to realize Skye had left, leaving Nova behind to watch over me.
Nova pounced on my bed, circled, and had finally settled above my shoulders when I heaved, missing the wastebasket. I stayed hunched, one hand planted on the carpet and a string of drool collecting in my hood. I couldn’t keep going like this. I was too tired. It was too hard. And with the only peace I knew behind my eyelids, I closed them.
Gray,think of Gray.His soul-bending, ice-blue eyes and how it would feel to hear him ask me to stay. Touches with loaded meanings. Silences only he and I could understand. Eyes full of promises and the secret messages in the texts he sent. I felt wrapped in his arms as consciousness slipped away.
Then the phantom arm around me changed.
