I furrow my brow, fully taking in the state of him for the first time. His normally immaculate clothes are rumpled and unkept, his leather boots caked in mud and slouched untied around his ankles. Though he wears no eyeliner tonight, circles nearly asdark as the makeup stain the skin beneath his eyes. Dread begins to spiral through my stomach, tentacles that writhe and pierce through my earlier happiness.
“Niko, what’s wrong? Is Marina okay?” I don’t ask the question pressing down against my heart, strangling my lungs.Do you regret the things you said to me?
I don’t know if I can survive the answer.
“She’s fine,” he bites out, motioning carelessly to my weapons. “I told you not to use your magic.”
“You said because I couldn’t control it,” I reply uncertainly. “But look how—”
“There’s a cost, Willa!” he shouts, killing my words in my throat. Niko never raises his voice. He’s never had a need. But now, his voice is wild—panicked—and it slices through every warm feeling I allowed myself the past few days, turning them straight to ice.
He heaves a deep sigh, his mouth twisting in anguish. Before I can say anything else, he straightens and entwines his fingers with mine. “I need to show you something.”
I gaze up at him, searching his face for a hint as to what has him so rattled, but I’m met with a stubborn wall of obsidian.
“Okay,” I manage, feeling increasingly unmoored. “I, uh…I need to get dressed first.”
I gesture vaguely to the red lace nightgown I’d imagined for myself earlier—it had been even easier than the weapons, because I knew the way Niko’s gaze would spark greedily the moment he saw it. The way he’d take me to the floor in the middle of his bedroom, unable to wait even the second it would take to make it to the bed before he had his hands on me.
He barely seems to notice it, though, as he takes his cloak from his shoulders and wraps it around mine perfunctorily. It’s this, more than anything, that simultaneously heightens my alarm and increases my dread. Niko noticeseverythingabout me.Always. Whether I want him to or not. That he’s so distracted now can only mean something is terribly wrong.
“Come,” he says softly, leading me out of his rooms and into the corridor beyond.
He doesn’t speak as we walk. He doesn’t look at me at all, his eyes fixed straight ahead of him.
His refusal to see me opens up a hollow in my chest, and I wish it didn’t. It shouldn’t matter that he isn’t staring at me like something hallowed; it shouldn’t feel like I’ve been scraped out and gutted. But it does. And somehow in this moment, Imisshim even as he stands next to me.
Miss the way he grounds me into myself—the confidence I feel in my place not only in the world, but beside him. It seems ridiculous now, to think I could not only touch death, butknowit.
My only consolation is his hand in mine, and the way his ribbons dance around my feet as we walk silently through the Lunaedon. They spiral around me, playful and wild, like they’ve spent all day as bereft at our parting as I’ve been. I cede a small smile, resisting the urge to untangle my hand from Niko’s and hold his ribbons instead.
At least I know they like me.
After what seems like ages of walking, Niko brushes a large tapestry aside, revealing a hidden door. Unlike the doors in the rest of the palace, this one is plain, an undecorated panel of black.
My heartbeat ratchets up into my throat as he places a palm to the surface. The door disappears, revealing a narrow staircase leading up and out of sight. Niko’s rooms are situated in the upmost floor of the palace, but these stairs lead even higher, most likely to one of the towering turrets.
As we step inside the stairwell, the silence presses uncomfortably against my ears. I lose count of how many stepswe ascend, instead focusing on the rustle of the cloak against my ankles and the icy feeling of Niko’s hand in mine. Physical things to ground me to the present, even as my mind spirals beyond my control.
My thighs burn as we climb, my anxiety rising in time with my steps. Niko knows I don’t like heights. What would he need to show me at the very top of his palace?
His face reveals nothing, as we step onto the landing of the narrow stairs. I swallow, wishing I possessed even a molecule of Sam’s natural calm. My thoughts rapidly fire through me like scattered pieces of glass, slicing through my brain and carving through my chest.
As Niko places a palm to the next door, this one carved with the same skulls and flowers as the Lunaedon gates, I remind myself the fear, the adrenaline, the instinct to run—none of it has to do with him.
It’s residual, the echoed imprint of everyone who was supposed to love me splaying me open instead. Taking and taking until there was nothing left, and then abandoning me to endure the emptiness alone.
Look at everything I’d burn to the ground for you.
I replay his words in my head. Niko is a villain—thevillain. The dark and selfish shadow from all the stories. He told me he’d burn the kingdom to the ground for me, but would he save me from his own fire?
You are adytum in a lifetime of purgatory.
I wish I could remember what it meant.
Adytum, adytum.
The word repeats to the rapid beat of my heart, as the door disappears revealing a small observation deck atop the highest Lunaedon tower. The word is a chanted prayer to the swirling Letum sky, a cornerstone to hold onto as my head begins to swim with the height.
