Niko’s imagined voice proves it was only a desperate hallucination. I have spent the past year determined not to think of him—determined never to imagine that obsessive onyx gaze;the cruel beauty of his smile; the spread of his elegant fingers and the ice of his death.
It’s the reason I don’t sleep. It is easier during the day, when my mind is immersed in the pain of others, to keep my thoughts from straying. But my dreams wander, no matter my resolve—they ache, they long, theyimagine.
I have kept the armor of my mind impenetrable, lest I paint my most shameful desires into reality and draw Niko back from the mainland. That I’ve now lost control during waking terrifies me far more than ominous shadows.
Pushing the thoughts away, I shove myself to sitting with a grunt. I’m working up the strength to stand, when the brush of invisible fingers over my arm sends me toppling to the ground once again. Stars flash in my vision as I land hard on my back with a wearyoomph.
Before I gather my wits enough to draw the dagger strapped to my thigh, an arm flickers into existence followed by the rest of a familiar form.
“For fuck’s sake, Marina,” I hiss, my heart still pumping uncomfortably fast. “You scared me to death!”
Don’t be dramatic,she signs.You can’t die. The little pixie throws a hand on her hip, her expression indecipherable as she watches me flop to my stomach in graceless attempt to return to sitting.
I blink dumbly at her, as unmoored by her presence as I am comforted by it. I haven’t seen Marina in months, and I don’t know how to feel about her appearing during a moment of vulnerability.
“What are you doing down here?” I ask warily, before another, far more troubling thought occurs to me. “And why were you invisible?”
Marina’s magic demands a high price. That she would have reason to use it now sets my teeth on edge.
Just be thankful I was.
It isn’t an answer, but before I can press, she ducks beneath my arm to help me to my feet. I sag against her, my legs wobbling beneath me. If it weren’t for her steadying hand, I’d probably fall right back over.
When I manage to regain my balance, Marina steps back, her hands quick and concise as she signs,What happened?
The honest answer is that I don’t know, and for a moment, I consider admitting it to her. Before everything happened last year, Marina and I had been something like friends—or, at the very least, headed in that direction. But since that horrible moment when Niko lay dying on the floor of the Lunaedon, a divide has existed between us—one forged of hurt and anger.
I’d once cherished her unfailing loyalty to Niko, but now I cannot bring myself to forgive her for it, as it was the same fierce devotion that kept her faithful to his wishes, even when she knew it led to his death. And it is the same loyalty which prevents her for ever forgiving me for sending him away,
It is a chasm we haven’t been able to cross.
She moved out of the Lunaedon a few days after I banished Niko and no one has heard from her since. Not even Sam or Tiernan, though they’d searched for her for months.
Now I know why. She’s been invisible.
Willa, whatever is happening with your magic should not be ignored.
“I—I think I just overdid it,” I hedge. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately. Probably just need some rest.” I release a breath through my teeth, the action doing little to soothe the raw fray of my nerves. “Don’t tell Tiernan. He’ll be insufferable knowing he was right.”
At Tiernan’s name, Marina visibly stiffens and my heart fractures at how long she’s spent alone.
“Are you—how have you been?” The question is stilted—as awkward as I feel—and Marina steels her spine against it like it’s an attack.
Fine.The sign is sharp; a rebuke.
In spite of myself, I let out a rough laugh. “We’re all justfine,aren’t we?”
Marina cedes a small smile, but she doesn’t laugh.
As I take her in—the golden hair, the delicately shaped features, the no nonsense air—I realize my initial anger toward her has given way to something softer in the months since we’ve seen each other. Something less sharp, and perhaps, a bit closer to understanding.
If only I knew how to say that. Knew how to tell her I understand why she did what she did, and plead for her to understand my actions the same way.
But before I can say anything else, she asks,Have you felt a shadow like that before today?
Her question settles like ice in my stomach as I realize she saw more than just me collapsing. And if Marina saw the shadow—the pit of rage that somehow escaped beyond my chest—it means none of it was a dream.
Panic flutters against my ribs. I’ve scraped and clawed and sacrificed to dig out a bit of power for myself, and now, it’s all I’ve been left with. The idea that something could be wrong with it—that my magic is something that can be taken from me—is unbearable.
