Nobody speaks. It's pointless.
The quicker we let her go, the sooner this will all be over.
She's like a damn ghost in this place, always showing up when she's least wanted and never when she's actually expected. I'm pretty sure the last time I saw her was the day Elodie arrived.
What does she even do here anyway?
When she continues to stare after everybody, Ocean breaks the silence, clearly reaching her limit before the rest of us.
“Is there anything else, Professor? We do have things to do, a life, you know how it is.”
Professor Morton cocks her brow, but her gazequickly darts to Elodie, or more specifically, Elodie's hand. She reaches for her wrist, snapping it between her fingers before I get a chance to intercept, holding the inked finger up in the air with wide eyes and paling cheeks.
“You have it. You have the golden dove,” she breathes, teary-eyed as her attention darts between Elodie and the disc in her hand.
My back stiffens, along with everybody else, as we gape at her in concern.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Elodie murmurs, her knuckles whitening around the hopeful key, and Professor Morton scoffs, her eyes darkening, but the tears remain unshed.
“Don't lie to me. Not when I can help ensure you get there unscathed.”
Thorne protectively inches closer, unraveling Morton’s hold on Elodie one finger at a time as he glares at her. “It's the attic. There's not much to be protected from,” he states, and Professor Morton purses her lips as she tilts her head at him.
“It doesn’t suit you to be so rude all the time, Prince. I'll lead the way,” she reiterates, folding her arms around herself as her gaze remains on the golden dove.
“How about you explain what you know?”Thorne tosses back, ignoring her jibe, but she ignores him, spinning on the spot and turning for the next flight of stairs.
The four of us glance at one another before we silently trudge after her.
Thorne reaches for Elodie’s hand, squeezing it gently before he races ahead, the rest of us quick on his heels.
“Are you a scythe then? Is that how you know about this?” Thorne asks as we make our way up the stairs, and she turns around, sending a withering look over her shoulder.
“What I am is none of your business, Thorne. It's what I care about that should matter.”
“And what is it you care about?” I grunt, an unsettling feeling still niggling down my spine until her gaze collides with mine.
“A better world,” she replies before coming to a stop and swinging her arm out wide, revealing a set of double doors.
There are no handles, just a missing spot right in the middle where the doors touch. Even from here, I can see what Thorne meant; the imprints on the back of the disc match the empty spot.
“So, as the intricacy of the dove etched into the disc might imply, I'd encourage you to take yourtime. After all, you're saving more than just yourself here. But I'm also aware of the ticking time bomb that seems to be looming over The Vale,” she adds. “I’d like to not die for that. Please.” She nods, almost to herself more than anything, before she hurries back down the steps without another word.
The four of us glance at one another, trying to fathom what the hell just happened, but our attention quickly returns to the door. Elodie takes a step forward, holding the dove up, but she refrains from placing it against the wood for a few moments.
I want to take the weight away from her. She’s dealing with enough stress already. But I don’t manage a single step before Thorne shoots me down. I’m about ready to kick him in the dick.
Inner strength is a beautiful thing, and my Petal already has it in abundance. I don’t care for him pushing for her to take control and achieve more for herself. She doesn’t need the growth. She’s achieved more than most ever should.
My nostrils flare as I glare at him, ready to barge past him, when Ocean’s voice carries through the air.
“Are you okay?” Ocean asks, and Elodie nods without looking back.
“I think so,” she answers truthfully, and I rub mindlessly at my chest, trying to will the ache away.
As I’m ready to swoop in, Elodie takes a deep breath and presses the golden disc against the door. Without wasting a single second, the entire door comes alive, glowing through intricate etchings into the wood. They were naked to the eye mere moments ago. Now, they dance in a sensual show before the resounding click of a lock thunders around us.
Nervously, Elodie pushes at the door, and it effortlessly falls open.
