He took in a deep breath. “I learned of it—Zaelos—from my sister Zorinna before we set sail to find the item. She may not harbor much love for me these days, but I trust her with my life. She insisted that keeping you in the dark was the best course of action. After everything she had told me, I believed it was the right thing to do.”
“I don’t understand.” My voice was thick with all of my effort not to scream or cry. “I couldn’t wait for you to return. I thought your return would mark the end of my entrapment here. After that, we could go back to our life at sea. I would resume my duties as your ship doctor, and everything would go back to the way it was. That dream was something I was able to hold on to, despite everything going wrong here.
Now, it feels so far away I can’t even believe I once thought it could come true. I’m being consumed by the thing inside of me, and if I fail to train this magic I never even asked for, it’s going to win. And on top of that, I’m being hunted like some sort ofmonster by a council that believes it’s easier to murder me than give me the chance to reclaim my own body!”
Lorian stood, hands slamming down onto the table. “We are going to fix this! I will not let anyone or anything harm you.”
I will not let anyone or anything harm you.A friend’s promise.
I won’t let anything happen to you.A stranger’s promise.
Don’t you dare look at me like you want to say goodbye because I am not letting you die.This was… something else? A dream? A memory?
The words echoed in my head, the sheer despair in them shaking me to my core. For a moment, it froze me. My eyes glossed over as I attempted to grasp the fuzzy memory, to determine where and when the words had been spoken to me, and who had said them. Each time I drew closer, my fingertips grazing the edge of the memory, it drifted further out of reach, leaving a sharp pain in its wake. Still, I pressed on.
…do not ask me not to try.
I gripped the sides of my head, sucking in short, sharp breaths. I was close. So close.
“Nairu?” Lorian called out, his voice a distant blur. “Nairu? Kaelias help her!”
I felt hands over the top of my own. The sensation was enough to rip me back to reality. The memory,—I was sure it’d been a memory—dissipated as if it’d never been there at all, and no matter what I did to try to recall it, it would not come.
“What did you do?” I pulled away from Kaelias. “I was—I had something. Something like a memory. I—I don’t know what it was, but I heard it. I was so close.”
“You looked like you were in pain,” Kaelias signed.
“I almost had it.”
Mak knelt down beside me. “We’re only trying to help you.”
“I don’t need help.” I stood, my legs shaking. “I need to go. I need to speak with Alandris. He told me to tell him if something like this happens, and I don’t know, I—I just need to speak with him.”
“Nairu!” Lorian shouted my name, but I was already rushing out of the door.
The door opened for me as it had before, and I rushed down the hallway, into Alandris’ room with little regard for his privacy. My distress overwhelmed any concern for decorum. “Alandris!”
I stopped in the doorway, spotting him there. His attire was much more casual than usual; he wore a black shirt, half-unbuttoned, with matching pants tucked into boots that were propped up on the desk. A glass of mead was halfway to his lips where he paused, half-lidded eyes raking over my body as if he was determining whether I was a figment of his imagination. I had half a mind to pretend I wasn’t real and take the opportunity to leave while I had a chance.
“Bad time?” I asked warily, though I stepped closer all the same.
He righted himself, but not before downing the rest of his glass. “No, I suppose I did not explicitly say not to use your newfound ability to open my locked doors at your leisure without forewarning me of your arrival. Or knocking. Perhaps Ishould revoke your privileges.” His teasing was familiar, but his voice was off. Slow and… tired. Different.
“I am not sure why you gave me such privileges to begin with,” I retorted. “My behavior toward you has been hostile ever since we met. I’ve made it quite clear my opinion of you.”
His eyes darkened, and he poured himself another glass. “You have.”
Why did that make me feel so guilty? “I—it isn’t like that. Things are different now.”
He raised a brow. “Are they now?”
Something about his off-kilter demeanor had me so flustered I couldn’t stand it. I’d come with intentions of telling him off once more. I’d planned to tell him of the odd experience from earlier, to ask him what it’d meant. But seeing him as he was now had stopped me in my tracks. My concern for his obvious distress overshadowed my frustration with the fool. He was a ghost of his usual self. There was no enjoyment in biting if he wasn’t going to bite back.
I blew out a breath, hoping to alleviate the pressure building in my chest. “Yes. And I normally wouldn’t admit to something like this, but well—you look so… well, dejected, that I am compelled to be honest.” I moved farther into the room until I was positioned in front of his desk.
“Well, don’t leave me waiting.” He waved his hand in front of him, an invitation to continue.
“I regret what I said,” I said so quickly the words all ran together.
