“Don’t worry at all, dragoness, we’ll make sure you haveeverythingyou need for tomorrow. Trust me and Azo to ensure it all goes off without a hitch,” she tells me pointedly.
Nixy waits for me to say something, to agree or get off the call. I should, but suddenly I don’t want to. Maybe today has taken a bigger toll on me than I realized despite my incredible discovery in the vaults and the progress I made with Lorn. What happened with Aeson after has thrown me, to say the least. Add to that, the last few hours I’ve spent remembering how to use the Vitric Port—and shaking off the subsequent flashbacks—and I find that I’m feeling overwhelmingly sad and…lonely.
It’s foolish. I’m closer to answers than we’ve ever been. I’m out of the cage Wistan and the Tainted kept me in, I’m healing, I’m safe—for now—and yet it all feels like a juggling act that’s destined to go wrong any second.
I stare into Nixy’s eyes, and all I can think about is how much I miss Ren and wish she were here.
“Can I help you with anything else, dragoness?” Nixy asks cautiously.
“No, I apologize. I’m just tired. I should probably go to bed early. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day,” I tell her dismissively.
Her features fill with gentle understanding, and for a second, I pretend it’s Ren looking back at me through the com screen and not her little sister.
“Hang in there, dragoness. You know dawn is coming even when the night is at its darkest. It will all be over before you know it.”
I nod and give her a half smile. “True. Maybe I’ve been staring at the dark for too long and it’s time to look for the light.”
My words tug me back to my earlier thoughts about love and light and what happens when we lose them. Aeson’s face pops into my mind, but I quickly brush it aside.
“Spark the flames you need to see by, dragoness,” Nixy says evenly.
My answering smile is grateful, and Nixy mirrors it.
“In the meantime, I’ll look into what I can do about those lasers you’ve requested,” she teases with a wink, and I laugh. “Get some rest. I’ll speak to you tomorrow.”
I disconnect the call without saying goodbye, and my stare once again returns to the sky. I should feel better. Nixy’s going to get a message to Enslee. Everything went smoothly, and I doubt anything we said will trigger the suspicion of anyone who’s listening in. But all at once, I’m fighting the urge to pull up the number pad on my com and call Enslee right now.
I know I can’t. I know I’m just being a big baby and feeling sorry for myself. But I’ve spent too much time in the past today. I can’t stop seeing a six-year-old Enslee, terrified, tears dripping steadily down her face as we crept out of our father’s spelled armoire and looked for a way out of his tower.
A distant roar pulls me from my haunted thoughts. I watch as a small group of dragons dance and dive over the tallest peaks of Talon’s Reach. I run my hand down my face as exhaustion presses in on me. I want to talk to my sister. I need to see for myself that she’s okay. But the closest I can get right now is stepping back in front of the Syphon Glass now hanging in my room, and pretending I’m looking at Enslee and not myself when I stare into it.
I suppose the good news is that I now remember how to use a Vitric Port and what they can do. The bad news is that I don’t see my nightmares getting better anytime soon. Not after all the doors and windows I threw open on my trauma today.
I push up from the ground, careful to stick close to the wall as I go. Warmth blankets me when I step through the transparent barrier that fills the massive arched opening. The tall fireplace in my room is blazing, and I don’t know if Ogdan lit it the last time he was here checking on me or if it’s programmed to turn on when the room drops to a cooler temperature. Either way, I leave it on, enjoying the heat.
I stride toward the large sitting area in the room and grab the controls for the vid screen, turning it on. A loud commercial blares to life, and I cringe at the cacophony of noise that instantly chases away the silence I’ve been sitting in all evening. I don’t bother turning it down. It’s the perfect level of loud.
I’ve been keeping my TV on every night since I got here to help mask my movement, mute my nightmare-induced screams, and to help condition Aeson’s Wing to ignore the white noise always coming from my room at night. I wanted the noise to help cover me in case I needed to sneak out, but now it will be the perfect cloak for what I need to do with the Syphon Glass.
The commercial on the vid screen ends, and a news story about the upcoming Blood Rite fills the room. I tune it out, rubbing my eyes until they’re nice and red while I stride to the main door of the room. Opening it a crack, I look out and surprisingly find Ogdan standing guard. I was expecting Blay, but maybe he took a break. Ogdan’s gray eyes turn to meet mine, and I notice his hair is braided in the same style it was the first time we met.
I pause. He was wearing his burgundy hair down earlier when we spoke. I’ve gotten the distinct impression that he only braids it when the Wing is being deployed somewhere. But unless they’re going on a last-minute trip, this is for my Naming tomorrow. He must be expecting more trouble than he’s told me. I know I am.
“You going to bed early?” Ogdan asks, the question pulling me from my disquieted musings.
“Yeah. Night,” I tell him, and he gives me an annoying little salute.
“Gatlin will be on guard tonight if you need anything,” he tells me as I step back and start to close the door.
Hmmm, Gatlin, not Blay. I guess Blay’s off for the night.
A thought occurs to me, and I lean back out of the doorway.
“Tell Gatlin…” I pause hesitantly. “Tell him, I might have a few more nightmares tonight than usual. It’s been a long day and I’m dealing…” I blow out a tired breath. “The Crush was hard. Just tell him to ignore…” I gesture behind me at the room, and Ogdan gives me a solemn nod.
“I’ll tell him, lass,” he assures me softly, the pretty lilt in his voice adding a depth to the declaration that almost makes me want to cry for real.
I give him one more nod and then shut the door without another word. Guilt pools in my gut, but I stomp through it, ignoring the way it splashes around and makes a mess of my insides. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. The Syphon Glass is exactly what I need to help me move forward with my plans here in Four Tiers, but for some reason, I’m struggling.
