- LYRA -
I sit up in bed and stretch, finding that, as I listen to the morning birds chirping outside, a peculiar ache buzzes in my head. I lower my arms and blink through my grogginess, I flex my hands.
No ache. Not even a hint of yesterday’s trial lingers in my muscles. Removing the bandages, I find my skin is perfect. Free from even a hint of scar tissue.
Odd.
Though, the pulsing in my head ticks up in pressure. I run a hand down the back of my head. Prodding my skull gently, testing to see where the pain radiates from.
A pounding sounds at my bedroom door.
Throwing the sheets off my naked legs, I stalk across the room. The tile is cold on my bare feet. Keeping my body behind the door, I open it and pop my head out.
Lady Bethany stands on the other side, a smile plastered on her face. “Good morning, Lyra.”
“Oh…” I laugh nervously, combing a quick hand from my temple back behind my head. “Good morning, Lady Bethany.”
“Can you please explain why you are two hours late?”
My eyes widen. “T-two hours late?”
Her smile remains, but something flashes in her eyes. Disappointment. Anger. “Indeed. Not only have you missed breakfast, but I have had to postpone our lesson today because you and Marcella decided to sleep in.”
“Marcella?” I repeat in a whisper. Marcella was supposed to come last night. And for whatever reason…she never showed.
“But the General informed me on my walk here that you were ill. If that’s true, I am very sorry to hear it. I believe the best cure for any sort ofsickness…” she holds out a small glass vial, “is of course, to rest. Drink plenty of fluids, medicine. And to quarantine.”
“Quarantine?” I repeat, unable to form much thought around the pulsing in my head.
“Yes. I would hate for whatever ails you to be passed around to the other girls. You understand, don’t you?” She presses the vial into my hand.
“Yes.” Obediently, I take it. As I tip it one way, a red liquid sloshes back and forth within it. A heat radiates from the glass. “What is this?”
“Medicine, of course. To help you feel better, quicker.”
Floating my gaze back up to her, I murmur, “Thank…you.”
Her smile widens, and she dips her head before grabbing the door handle and closing it herself. A series of locks sounds outside and, after a still moment, I test the door only to find it won’t budge.
Did she just…lock me in here?
I test it more, twisting and shaking until I pound against it. “Wait!” I say into the crack between the two doors. “Lady Bethany! Please. I do not wish to be locked in here!”
But only silence responds.
I slowly sink to my knees.
How long am I going to be locked in here? And how is it Marcella and I both slept in? Granted, I imagine all of us were exhausted beyond comprehension after such a long, traumatic day yesterday. But…Marcella wanted to meet in the middle of the night. She had something she needed to discuss.
I drag my attention over my shoulder to the window. The sky is blue, and a light fog hangs in the distant green cliffsides of the Serahaven mountains. Then I look to my bed. I have no recollection of falling asleep last night. As I glance down at my nightgown, I trail a thumb along the hem.
I don’t even remember changing out of my dress?
I rise off the floor, then walk to the bathroom. Once I place the vial Lady Bethany gave me on the counter, I splash my face with cold water in the sink, then straighten and look at myself in the mirror.
As I blink, my reflection does so a half-second out of sync. Squinting, I lean closer to the glass. I blink again. Then tilt my head slowly to one side, then back the other way.
Opium poppies can cause hallucinations. Perhaps it’s a lingering effect from whatever tonic they gave me yesterday to heal the burns. The poppies would also explain why I slept in so much—heavy sedation typically comeshand-in-hand with pain relief. Though, I don’t remember taking any tonics after the infirmary.
