I feel his eyes on the back of my head. I cross my arms tighter and keep walking past the visitors who have stopped to gossip about the river flowing beneath us. A small, vicious part of me wishes I could shove them into the River of Sorrows they're so fascinated with. Let them discover firsthand whether the curse is real.
I bite back a laugh, picturing Jordi's horrified face if I said that aloud. I can only make those jokes in front of a handful ofpeople. The ones who know I'd never actually do it. I made the mistake of voicing something similar in front of the Sages once. They made me read texts about empaths who lost control and did terrible things. I never joked about it again.
“The man at the inn said they register their names and wait to be assigned a spouse,” a woman says, her voice light. Amused. “Like a marriage lottery.”
My jaw clenches as the sound of tinkling laughter rings out across the bridge.
“Good gods. They don't even choose their own partners?”
“Matched by temperament, apparently. And they never part, which is more than we can say in Lyrionne,” another responds.
We reach the end of the bridge.
“Is that the Council's flag? I rather like it.”
My stomach turns as I glance up at the dark green banner hanging from the building ahead. The fabric ripples in the wind, making the eye that sits inside the heart look like it’s blinking. Beneath it, the words:The Everlasting Endures Your Pain. A shortened version of the full mantra:The Everlasting endures your pain so you don't have to. I glare at the eye one final time before I pull my hood over my head and break free from the crowd.
The alley swallows me, dark and narrow, the walls pressing close as I run into it. I skid to a halt as I round the corner and see a black carriage pulling away from the Hall of Reflection. I turn toward the building, ready to go inside, when a face in the carriage window catches my eye. My heart stops. Jordi.
I yank my hood down and run after it. “Jordi! Wait! Stop!”
The coachman glances back but doesn't slow. “Take it up with the Council!”
I stumble on a raised cobblestone. Keep running. “The Council? Where are you taking him?”
“To the Keep! As we told the woman inside, we’re just following orders!”
“What orders?” I scream. I reach the carriage and slam my palm against the window. “Jordi!”
His head whips toward me.
He looks slightly better than he did the other day, but still not well enough.
“Godsdamn it! Stop the carriage!” I shout, forcing myself into a sprint.
My fist connects with the window. Jordi doesn't speak. He just looks at me with that tired, lopsided smile. The one he thinks is comforting. I hit the window again.
“Jordi! What are you doing?!”
The carriage slows as it nears the turn. It has to. The corner is too sharp. I slam both palms against the glass. The blond guard inside startles, then glares as he opens the window slightly.
“Stop this carriage! Now!”
“We have orders!” the guard shouts.
“Temp, it's okay,” Jordi says, his voice calm. Too calm. “It's only a few questions.”
My eyes snap to him. I open my mouth to scream, but something white glints in his lap. Manacles. His wrists are bound. I stumble.
“This is against the Veritas Treaty!” My voice cracks. I slam my fists against the side of the carriage. “Stop!”
“Take it up with the Council!” the guard shouts as the carriage turns onto the street.
I know I won't catch them. I know it's useless. But I keep running anyway, lungs burning, legs threatening to give out. Jordi looks back over his shoulder. Our eyes meet for half a breath. Fear flickers across his face. Then grief. Resignation. And beneath it all, determination.
Maybe that's why I stop.
I watch the carriage vanish into a wall of fog. Watch my brother vanish. The pressure in my chest builds and builds until I’m forced to double over, hands on my knees, and scream. The sound rips out of me.
