Page 31 of The City Of Fractured Memory

Careful who you trust.

With my emotions recently running unchecked and now this…I start to wonder if maybe I am losing my mind after all.

Sixteen

Ashock of white hair clouds my vision, the alluring whisper of that woman’s voice lilting through my mind…

“Come to me, Octavia. You’re so close now…”

She reaches out her hand to me, and this time I don’t hesitate before I take it. But the second our fingertips touch, I’m launched into an endless void of black, falling, falling…

A bone-deep weariness envelops me as I rouse myself from the fog-addled weight of my unconsciousness, my skin slick with sweat from my dream. I try to breathe deep to slow my heartrate, but as the events of the last few days slowly return to me, it only increases as they unfold vividly through my mind.

A knock at my bedroom door jerks me from the chaos of my mind and I slide out of bed, wincing at the pain that courses through my body as I move. I’ve overdone it, I can feel that now my ring has lost its power. All this running around the last few days has come back to bite me, and I limp to the door, silently cursing myself for my carelessness.

Stryx stands at the other side when I open it, concern etched across her face as she looks me over.

“You’re in pain,” she states, reaching out for my ring, but I swiftly draw my hand back and shake my head.

“Your power is too low–”

“It doesn’t take much,” she insists, grabbing my hand a little more forcefully and running her fingers across the ring before I can stop her. The runes glow once more as the remains of her magic spills into it, and my shoulders relax as my body releases all its tension and my bones and tendons return to their proper positions.

“Thank you,” I breathe, feeling guilty for using up the last of her magic, though I can’t deny the relief it has given me.

She smiles warmly, brushing her thumb across my hand before releasing it and holding up a piece of parchment. My heart starts to thunder as I grab it, but when I turn it over, the handwriting is not the usual blue cursive that haunts me, but Xavier’s clumsy black scrawl.

“He wants you to come to the morgue, with an actual invite this time,” she chuckles, though her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. I study her, and I realise how tense her shoulders are, how rigid she’s holding herself, and I curse myself for not seeing it straight away.

“Are you okay? After yesterday, I mean?”

She nods with a small smile. “Yes, I’m okay. It’ll just take some time for me to get used to the idea that there are other people out there who know about me now.”

“You don’t trust Xavier?” I ask. The question has been burning through my head since her reaction to him yesterday.

“I do,” she answers quickly. “I just…I don’t know. Maybe I should stay here today.”

I can’t agree more. “Yes, bringing you to the Division seems like a stupid risk after what happened yesterday. Maybe you can sit on the roof while I’m gone? If there are any gaps in the Veil you can recharge some of your magic?”

She nods enthusiastically before bounding off into the living space, leaving me to dress, but as I do, anxiety crawls its way back into my mind. Leaving her is the best thing to do right now, so why do I feel so uneasy about it?

“They brought in his body this morning,” Xavier says quietly, his expression grim as we stand side by side next to Cyril. “One of the other librarians found him after we left. No leads yet, but they’re investigating.”

The morgue is quiet, save for the faint drip of water somewhere deep in the stone walls. I turn away silently and walk over to the two bodies I came here to see, both having been pulled out of their magically chilled hatches on my arrival. They lay pale and slack under the lamplight and I walk between them, leaning in close to study them for anything I may have missed before. I sense Xavier shuffling uncomfortably behind me, and after a few minutes, I can’t ignore it any longer.

“What?” I snap, a little more forcefully than I’d intended.

“Is she okay?” he murmurs, looking up at me as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “I get the feeling Stryx isn’t happy about me knowing.”

I consider telling him of her unease, but a different thought suddenly occurs to me, and I try to bite back my smile.

“You know, if you want her to like you, you should buy her a mushroom.”

His eyebrow shoots up. “What?”

“Just trust me,” I laugh, but my smile drops quickly as I recall our conversation yesterday. “How’s Vesper?”

“Same as usual,” he grunts with a sad shrug.