“You’re one to talk.” I cross and pull a chair to her bedside.
“I like them,” she says fondly toward the door that Thal just left through.
“They’re a good one.” I nod.
“They are,” she agrees softly. “Very gentle and kind.” She takes a sip from her mug. “They say you two met here, in Arcana Academy.”
“We did.”
“I thought you swore to Mother you’d never go here.”
It’s so surreal to finally speak to her like this. “I thought you did, too.”
Another little snort of laughter. A weak, tiny smile. We both take a drink to stall and find whatever it is we want to say next.
“Change your whole face but you still look to the left when you’re trying to avoid saying something,” she says.
“Excuse me?” I blink, settling my mug in my lap.
“It’s like you’re looking for the right words to say and can’t find them in your head, so you start searching around the room.”
“I do not do that.” If it was something I did, Kaelis would’ve certainly teased me about it by now.
“You just did.” Her lips curl slightly in amusement.
I catch myself looking left again and curse under my breath. Yet another soft laugh, and the tightness in my chest loosens further. But I finally find the words I want to—need tosay in the corner of the room.
“I didn’t think you’d make it. I thought I’d lost you forever,” I admitsoftly, tracing a crack in the rim of my clay mug. We both know I’m not talking only about her surviving physically.
“You almost did.” The way she uses a matter-of-fact tone almost hides the shadow that crosses her eyes. Then she ducks her chin and stares at the reflection in her mug. “But you didn’t…Thank you for all you did to bring me back.”
I set my mug aside and lean forward to cover her hands with my own, tilting my head to catch her eyes. “In this world. In the next. For a thousand times and a thousand iterations, I would find you, I would hunt for you, I will always come for you, Arina, and I will always help you.”
“You don’t have to constantly protect me.” The words are near instinctive, and I can’t fight a grin. She mirrors it, realizing the same. “How many times did I tell you that?”
“A lot.”
She sighs and puts her mug next to mine on the bedside table, then locks her fingers with mine in a viselike grip. “This time, though…I’m glad you did,” she admits softly. “I might tell you that you don’t have to, but thank you for doing so.”
“That is something you’ll never need to thank me for.”
“I want to repay the favor.” Determination is alight in her eyes. “Let me read for you.”
“Arina—”
“I can feel the weight you’re carrying. I see the sag in your shoulders—it was always there, but it’s so much worse.” She tightens her grip as I attempt to pull back. Her hands quiver from the effort. “I’ve been told so little of what’s really been going on. And I know…I know I’m weak.” She hangs her head.
“Arina…” Her name is softer now. Less of an objection.
“But I’m already stronger than anyone gives me credit for. I can help you. After what happened at the Stone Citadel, I want to feel strong again. You need me.”
“I do. But I think it’s too much on you right now. Maybe next time.”
“Clara.” My name is firm. “Ravin wanted one thing from me,one:my magic. He demanded I read for him, ink for him, demanded I tell him how I did this or that—things I knew and things I didn’t. He demanded I ink…the Star.” It’s still clearly strange for her to say, but Thal must’ve been telling her the broad strokes of the Majors because it’s far more familiar than I’d otherwise expect.
“He was ready to do anything…” Her voice wavers, but in a display of strength greater than I’ve seen from anyone in a long time, she continues. “…anythingto get what he wanted. He thought that if he broke me, I’d give in. Time and again, he tried. Violently, gently. Ravin was…creative.”
Even though I heard some of this when she was under the influence of the Sun, I let her speak. I can see just how healing it is to tell her story on her own terms and time.
