Yes.
It was because Nevara was here, and it would be so much worse if shecouldn’thear me. If she was so far gone that there was no part of her that even registered those of us who visited her bedside or worried that she might never wake up. So it was worse. So much worse.
“You’ve missed a lot, you know,” I began, unsure of where to start exactly. “Eyrx is pretty furious about my… general existence, but maybe you Saw that coming.”
I let out a hollow-sounding laugh, wondering if there was maybe some truth there.
“And my father... well, maybe you Saw that coming as well.”
The thought churned uncomfortably in my gut. I heard the echo of her voice, thick with tears, ethereal as ever.
This was the only way I could See.
Had she Seen his death, and weighed it against a larger threat? Could I blame her if she had?
I went on to tell her about the big things, the message from my uncle and the monsters worsening, then the smaller, more mundane things like Batty’s ongoing battle with my affection for Lumen.
“I wish you were awake for so many reasons, some of them selfish. Maybe all of them. There are so many things we don’t know, like whether Eryx will stay loyal,” I added after a beat, guilt clawing at my gut. “I don’t know him well at all, but I do know that things will be hells of a lot more difficult if Winter’s Lord General turns traitor on top of everything else. And I need you to tell me if there is anything we can do to convince him not to.”
I added the last part more quietly.
“I need to know if there are more villagers out there who need our help. If there is something I can do to stave off another war… between the Seelie and the Unseelie. Between Draven andhis entire shards-damned court.” The words poured out of me then.
“And if we survive… what comes after? Do I go into hiding? Stay here and become the exception to the rule of unvarnished hatred where the Unseelie are concerned? Explode from the force of my mana? Is there anything at all in our future worth fighting for, some good we can do, someone we can actually save? Or will we give all that we have to preserve a world that justifies its hatred of anything different or lesser in power?”
I thought of the Hollow children again. My story had been different. My mana had been hiding all along, but some children truly were born without it. I couldn’t believe in Nevara’s goddess and also the one who cursed innocent children and believed they were deserving of death.
I just… needed her to wake up and tell me what it was all even for so I could dredge up the strength to keep fighting on days like today. Not just because she was the Visionary, but because I missed the unique, steady way she saw the world, in spite of all the horrors she must have Seen in her life.
“We need you,” I whispered, then shook my head to correct myself. “I need you.”
Nevara’s chest rose and fell. Barely. Not enough. Or was it just the same pace as before?
“I know that my needs are so much smaller compared to the others in your life. To Soren. Draven. Even that shards-damned griffon that nearly got you killed,” I continued. “And I know that you weren’t even sure that we’d be friends…”
A humorless laugh escaped me, and I tilted my head up toward the domed ceiling.
“But I want to be,” I continued after a beat. “And I want you to wake up and tell me that you want the same thing because I haven’t had many friends in my life, and I could really use one now.”
I cleared my throat, the words stumbling out of me more quickly now. Maybe it was easier to talk to her when I was staring at sunlit bricks, or the dust motes dancing through the air, or maybe it was just that now that I’d begun, I couldn’t make myself stop.
“I want you to wake up and drink too much whiskey with me and say inappropriate things and laugh with me about Lord Fellingham’s latest wig. I want you to tell me what Draven was like when he was young and stupid, because I know he was. He has that face.”
I glanced down at her again. Nothing. Not even the twitch of an eyelash. Just stillness. Just the awful in-between of someone here, but not.
I swallowed and sat back in my chair.
Morta Mea?Draven’s voice brushed through the bond, edged with controlled concern.
I’m fine. I’m with Nevara.I answered, letting him see her through my eyes.
There was a long beat of silence before he responded.
Make sure that rodent doesn’t bite her when she’s defenseless. Have we confirmed with the Beastwarden that Batty isn’t, in fact, feral?
Despite everything, a small spark of amusement warmed our bond.
I feigned offense.How very dare you!
