So is his night pass.
Petra told Thoren that she works at the infirmary at night and Thoren offered to bring her more apples.
Some of my panic calms, but not all of it.
For him to choose to go out at night without me—and without telling me—is a reckless thing to do.
Reaching for my night pass, I tie it on quickly and step silently out into the empty corridor beyond our room.
Within minutes, I’ve checked the walkways and the courtyard, listening carefully.
The silence within the castle grounds is heavy.
The only sounds are coming from the city outside the castle gates.
Heading out to the courtyard, I cross to the gate. The lone guard up on the wall opens it for me.
Then I set off at a quick run, my bare feet silent. I’m risking cuts and bruises, but I don’t want to draw attention to myself as I race along the stony pathway.
By the time I reach the infirmary, my heart is racing with worry.
I dart through the shadows outside the door and into the entry room, praying I’ll see Thoren inside.
My brother stands halfway along the room beside a patient’s bed, his head close to Petra’s.
She’s stirring a pot of salve, her expression animated.
Thoren nods as she speaks, seeming intent on listening to what she’s saying.
Before I lean back into the empty space behind me, I also catch sight of Nero stepping toward them. He gives his daughtera smile before he grips Thoren’s shoulder briefly. It’s a fatherly gesture. The kind our own father would make.
I step out of sight without making a sound.
My chest feels empty.
I’m relieved that my brother is safe. Angry that he didn’t tell me where he was going. Fearful that he’s forming connections with people whose lives are fragile and whom we have no ability to help.
I slink back into the darkness of the street, studying the boarded-up windows opposite the infirmary before casting my gaze skyward.
Clouds have gathered in the distance again, seeming centered over the northern field. They are the same strangely crimson clouds that boiled above the field when we first arrived.
A drop of cold liquid hits my cheek and when I brush it away, once more it looks like blood.
The intense silence from the north suddenly hits me.
While the city around me carries a soft hum, much softer than during the day, the northern field is silent.
The constant clanging of students hammering their medallions has stopped.
They must have finished forging their first medallions.
I teeter on the edge of stepping back into the light and letting my brother know I’m here.
But he chose not to tell me he was coming here.
He didn’t want me to know.
As quickly as I can, I make my way back to the castle, back to the room belonging to Malak’s dead sister, and I try to sleep.
