The hallway stretches on and on, and time passes slowly. Each step thunders in my ears, and the words continuously crash into my mind—like waves against the cliffs in a storm.
We enter the familiar bedroom, and fortunately, the large bay window is open, letting in a cool breeze that refreshes my clammy skin.
“Go slip that dress off. You are freezing,” Maines says as she ushers me to the bathing chambers. “I’m going to grab you some fresh clothes.”
She rushes over to the large wardrobe, pulling out a fresh shirt and black pants, before tossing them to me. I slip off the heavy dress and dry the remaining water from my skin. Even though my skin is ice cold, the warmth of my anxiety envelops me, causing me to shake from the contrasting temperatures.
I quickly slip into the pants, throw on the billowing top, and button up the shirt, leaving the top two buttons open.
“How is your tattoo feeling?” Maines enters the room once I’ve fully dressed. “Do you want me to check it?”
I tighten the shirt around my shoulders and smooth my hair.
“No, it’s fine,” I lie.
The throbbing hasn’t lessened, and the fresh claw mark sitting on my skin would only alarm her. I run my hand over the marking and can feel the raised, irritated skin underneath. The pulsing that hits my hand causes me to jerk it away, as if something inside me is trying to rip it from my body.
“Okay. I’m going to sit and get a fire going.” Maines smiles and starts to pull the door shut behind her. “You look like you need a minute.”
I hear muffled shuffling outside the door that quickly fades as Maines makes her way across the room to attend to the fire. I glance in the mirror and take a shaky breath. My black hair is still soaked and plastered to my head. My eyes are heavy—not just with exhaustion, but a weight desperate to leave my body. My eyes are my normal autumn shade, and I’m thankful the brilliant hazel is settled.
My eyes.
They have always been different than other Shadow Wielders, and tonight, I think I’ve learned why. I’m different,and I don’t think I’m just a Shadow Wielder. I glance at my hands, the black veins still visible.
I close my eyes and concentrate on the words.
Give me light.
But nothing happens.
Nothing brightens the room, and the black veins mock me against my pale skin. Maybe I’m losing my mind after all that’s happened. That would almost comfort me if it were true. I reflect on my mother's remarkable ability to adjust to the darkness after marrying my father. My mother was strong—just like he was—but, I can’t shake the feeling that this ability may not come solely from her. My father was private to a fault, and I’m beginning to think there is more about my parents that I never understood. But, I know someone who might have the answers.
Rose.
I focus once more and try to dive deeper into the steady flow of magic I feel, but nothing speaks back. We have to figure out what’s going on, and regret hits me again. I may have successfully blocked Malachi from haunting me, and Kalix is more dormant than usual, but I can’t hear Rohhit, and it feels like I desperately need to.
I do my best to compose myself and present a calm appearance. I open the door and join Maines around the simmering fire. She looks up from a book she’s holding and smiles gently.
She pats the seat next to her, an invitation to rest. Without protesting, I plop into the chair and let a wave of exhaustion settle into my bones.
“What happened?” Maines asks on a sigh.
I rub my eyes and avoid her gaze for a moment. Maines has a knack for extracting any information she desires from people, and I know if I slip up, I’ll reveal everything to her before I can tell Silas.
“I don’t even know where to begin, Maines.” I exhale heavily. “This has been a disaster.”
“Then, tell me what you feel comfortable. I know I’ll learn the rest when you are ready.”
I immediately relax a bit.
“Just promise me you are safe first.”
My shoulders slump, and the tattoo pinches, causing a pained expression to cross my face. “You know I can’t make that promise, Maines. None of us are safe.”
She inches closer. “I know.”
I turn to look at her, and Maines’s familiar, beautiful eyes stare back. I can’t tell her before Silas, but I can be honest with her. It won’t do us any good if I keep everything in the dark any longer.
