Calix sucked in a deep breath, nodded, and passed the torch to Evera. Her eyes watered in the dancing light.
Lifting the wooden beam, I released the door of its lock. It creaked as it swung open to silence and encompassing darkness. My muscles twitched, prepared to pull the door shut and bolt it again if necessary to protect Evera. The children within, they were— No, I would not call them monsters. I could not even understand the effects of their withdrawal. It was different for me. While I’d been a student to Astraea’s lessons, the same as them, I did not rely on any substance to temper my magic. It was more a matter of training my mind, my body, my reactions. For them, I suspected it was as well, to an extent, or the lessons would have been in vain. But the suffering they wereexperiencing now … I could not truthfully say I empathized with that.
Raising his chin, Calix took a step into the void and then another, his dark curls disappearing into the black of the room. Small as he was, his bravery was commendable. A wave of pride rushed through me, even as fear choked my throat, heated my skin. If I had to, to protect Evera—if I had no choice—could I bolt the door with him inside?
Another step, and he remained nothing but an outline, like the dark gray clouds silhouetted against a midnight sky.
From somewhere inside, metal scraped, the rattling of chains against stone. My blood ran cold.
57
EVERA
The thumpingof my racing heart was nearly painful against my ribs.
Calix was gone. He’d disappeared into the darkness as if it had swallowed him. And while I knew this to be irrational, that he was just out of my reach somewhere within the room, I could not bring myself to listen to the voice of reason.
“I can’t do this,” I said, breath rushing from my lungs, tears welling. I could not stand back and do nothing.
Torch in hand, I rushed past Neirin and into the damp, cold room. A hand reached for my cloak but missed. The light came with me, illuminating the low ceiling and Calix, who stood just in front of me.
“Evera.” Calix’s chest puffed as he sucked in a breath.
Boot steps sounded behind me, then Neirin’s arms were around me. As if he could shelter me somehow, shield me with his body. But there was no danger here. Nothing to shelter me from. It was nothing more than intuition, and perhaps a foolhardy one at that, but it was simply as if all fear fell away.
“It’s alright,” I coaxed Neirin, using my free hand to work at his arms. He clenched me tight, his face buried in my neck, raw, unfiltered panic coursing through the bond. “Neirin.” Isquirmed in his grasp, and reluctantly, he released me. I caught the glint of tears forming in his eyes as I looked back at him before finding my courage and moving toward the back of the room.
The pungent scent of death came on a wave, and I resisted the bile rising in my throat. The stench of urine and sweat nearly outweighed the scent, but it did not completely conceal it. Swallowing the sour taste in my mouth, I took another step, letting the light of the torch fall upon the scene before me.
We were too late.
Bodies lined the wall, all sitting, most leaning on each other. The oldest could have been no more than three and ten, the youngest—gods, younger than Calix. I fell to my knees, and the torch flickered as it hit the floor, sending the room into darkness for a moment before relighting. Distantly, I was aware of Neirin behind me picking it up. Before me, a boy with sandy-blond hair lay with his cheek against a child slightly older. The boy’s cheeks were pale, gray-hued, where they should have held the rosy pink of youth.
He was so young.
Calix rushed past me to work at the metal chains. Tears filled my eyes. “Calix, stop,” I rasped. “They’re dead. All of them. We’re too late.”
Neirin’s hand came to my shoulder, but I brushed it off roughly. Anger and grief coursed through me.
“Evera,” Calix called to me, voice desperate.
I scrunched my nose, bitterness rising to my throat as I readied to snap at him again. In a time when he needed comfort most, I was useless to him. But the suffering that had happened here, the failure on my part to do anything, the knowledge that there was nothing I could do now but hate myself … These children, had they accidentally killed each other when they lost their ability to control themselves? Or had they simply died ofdehydration, forgotten by Astraea in her own selfishness as she locked herself away?
Someone coughed, a rasp.
“Evera, help him,” Calix pleaded, now pulling at my hand. When had he come to my side? “Seros, he needs help.”
“Is his magic stable?” Neirin asked, his hand firm on my shoulder now.
“He’s too weak, I think, to be of any danger.”
“Are you positive?”
“No, I—” Calix swallowed his words.
He’s still alive. I can help him. I have to.
Brushing Neirin off again, I went to where Calix had found the boy who was still alive only moments ago. Head resting back against the stone wall with two younger children, days gone if not more, resting against his sides, the older boy fluttered his eyes and closed them again.
