I look at the pen, then grab some paper.
Does this thing actually work?
—the Wraith you decided to ghost
I set it down, waiting, and a strike of pleasure courses through me as it lifts and writes a reply, as if it’s been possessed.
Speak for yourself. What took you so long?
—the Princeling you’ve been ignoring
I laugh, surprised at the relief it brings. A weight seems to unclench itself from around my ribs, dissolving. I chew my thumbnail. Things between us were left so messy.
Malik just gave me this ten minutes ago, I’ll have you know.
No sooner have I set the pen down than it flies right back to the page.
I will personally send him to the Boiler for that.
I reply with,It’s the first time I’ve seen any of them since Alfheim. Have you gotten any more updates?
It takes a moment, as though he’s thinking. But then Draven writes,Everyone that made it home is breathing, most just stuck in the healer’s ward. I shouldn’t have brought any of you on that mission … I’m sorry we found that drake.
The vision of its serrated teeth, the stench of the acid, still grip me in the night.
He holds the pen a bit longer than needed, like he’s considering more, but finally sets it down and I pick it up.I’m sorry too, though the you-know-what was a nice reward. Only three more to go.
I drop the pen and it lifts, held over the paper a moment.
What would I do without you?
I grin, chewing the pen a moment. I force myself to keep going,And you? Any more progress for your partner?
There’s a pause and then,I’m working on it.The pen taps against the page in a little dance.But I’m using every available channel. I swear to you.
I believe you.My leg bounces, nerves firing like fireworks in my chest.Especially if you want me to return the favor you gave me in Alfheim.I twirl the pen in my hand.Though I guess if you’re not returning there’s no good time for you to put me on my knees.
For a long moment the pen doesn’t move. Shit. Was that too much?
You dare tempt me with this now? I’m supposed to be in an advisory meeting in five minutes.
Boo-hoo, sounds like your problem.
How would you like to spend Winter Solstice at the palace with me?That’s four weeks away.
I grin, chewing my lip.So long as you make the wait worth it.
His pause feels intentional, a temptation to bait me, hanging on his words.The things I am going to do to you. I’ll make certain it’s well worth it.The pen nearly juts through the paper.And burn this letter, don’t leave it for Magda.
ELEVENTH MONTH BLEEDSaway as I settle into a new normal. Eat, magic, write Draven, sleep, and repeat. I find myself relishing the nights spent writing him. There’s teasing and banter, and other more important updates. Draven has been hard at work living up to his promises, and each new piece of intel fills me with hope. He’s narrowed down the list of potential candidates that could be my brother, and Zara might have some intel we can use as blackmail for my mother’s freedom.
The latest news comes on a quiet night with no lead-up, no warning. I’m falling asleep reading about complex divination draws, and their varying accuracies, when the pen lifts.
I think I know where Oathbreaker is.
A jolt goes through my chest.
I wait for more, but the pen stays stubbornly still.
