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Chapter 4


"What are you doing here?" Lucy asks. "And with these?" She points to the stack of books that lay on my desk.

The study is open to all but is always mostly empty. My life for the past two months has been lived within these candle-lit walls. It has become common knowledge that if I have free time, it will be spent within the study. Books on herbology, potions and spells, conjuring, and properties. I've read it all and yet there is always more to learn.

Reading helps with the night terrors. When I'm not sulking by the window, I at least try to make myself useful. It is more important now than ever. Anything, absolutely anything could serve to be useful.

Lucy pulls up a chair across from where I sit and slides the book over to her.

"Hey!"

"Did you have another nightmare?" she asks unbothered, flipping through the pages.

"Not tonight." I answer snatching the book out of her grasp finding the page I left off on. "Ancient Hieroglyphs." It's a good try, but not much has come of it.

"You have to get some sleep. You know better than this," she says earnestly, leaning back in her chair.

"I can't sleep. Not now," I counter. "Mika is keeping Crista locked up in some cage. I have to do something to help."

She reaches her hand out, her skin pale and smooth. "No one expects you to be a machine." Again, sliding the book back over to her she sets it on her lap. "Take a rest."

I glare at her, but quickly advert my gaze. She gives me a don't-make-me-say-it-again look. Lowering my head to my folded arms I allow myself to relax.

I sigh slowly and my eyes sting from being awake for so long. I go to close my eyes but a lavander patch of smoke catches my attention. Keeping my eyes peeled I watch as it dances and whisps. The more it moves the darker it gets. Lavander to purple, to mauve, to almost red.

What is happening, I ask myself lifting my head. The smoke gets heavier and clouds the room until I can barely see.

"Lucy?"

I squint until I can focus across the table. The book is no longer on the table, no it seems to be on her lap. She looks down, her eyes wide.

"What did you find?" I ask, assuming something in the book might cause such a reaction.

But, as I study her closer, I realize she is not looking at any words inked into those thick pages. She looks past it, to her right.

I stand from my chair, the feet of it making an awful noise as it slides against the smooth floor. "Luc—

And then I see it.

"Please Lucy," I plead. "Calm down..."

I breath in and out slowly hoping Lucy will at some point follow my lead and take a breath. But her eyes are peeled on her arm and so are mine. I don't know what to say; what to think.

Lucy's pale skin now marked with ashy ink. A pair of wings.

***

"Okay... you know... it's not that bad."

"You can't be serious!" she cries, disturbed.

There's no point in trying to cheer her up. I practically carried her through the palace to Axil's room, banging on his door. He had woken up from some delirious dream, and if I had to guess I would say he's still under the impression he's in that dream.

"Tell me this again." He says in a slur. "You both were in the Study, and this mark just appeared on her arm?"

"Yes," I answer tightly.

He pinches the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb forcing himself into reality.

I calm my voice. "You have to trust me about Eden. This is far beyond anything we know of."

Sighing, he says, "I do trust you. What I don't trust is all this sneaky game play. She's distracting us with all of these drawings and folklore that probably have nothing to do with what she's really up to. How am I to see the bigger picture?"

"Let us help you, Axil."

"No!"

Every time he raises his voice it sends a chill down my spine, reminding me of my time in Flesherg.

"No," he says quieter. "I can do this on my own."

He looks once more at his shocked sister. Her eyes look almost as far off as they do when she has visions of the future. I look at her forearm. Like watercolor the ink swirls together, but it's still clear as day. This is bigger than every one of us put together... except...

"We do have a pawn..." I trail off wishing I would not have spoken in the first place. He looks at me and his eye twitches.

"I will not—

"She's after him, and if we don't give him up, it's our lives she's after. Axil, she will do whatever it takes to win at her game."

"I think..." Lucy's says, her smooth voice like velvet over rocks. "I think it's time to pay our prisoner a visit."

***

I never thought I would stand on the other side of this wall again. I have spent the last two months avoiding the west wing of the palace all together, and here it is. Here I am. Here we are. All... four of us.

I keep my voice low, close to a whisper as I turn to Axil. "Why don't you stay out here. It was you he wanted last time... I just... think it would be best to keep you safe."

"Safe," he balks mockingly, shaking his head. I keep my gaze on him taping my finger on my crossed arms waiting for him to realize I'm not joking. He meets my eyes and clears his throat. "Whatever you need," he says almost bitterly.

Stopping in his tracks he puts his hands in his pockets. Lucy turns me back around and we walk to the far end of the prison. It wasn't long ago that I was down here with him. I remember these halls like the back of my hand as I was escorted by royal guard. I sometimes wonder if this is what I deserve. How did it all seem to work out for me?

And then we make it to the wall. Like a shimmering portal oozing magic, its beauty is captivating. My nails dig into my palms. It shouldn't have been easy. That night Mika helped me; I didn't really know what I was doing, in fact I don't even remember much of what I did to close John in. Making a locked shield is no joke but I could do it easily. Now standing here, my legs feel as if they will give out any second.

"Will you be alright, Zaria?" Lucy asks concerned.

My first and only friend a prisoner in my home, and I did nothing. Once I locked him up, I pretended as if he didn't exist. Anytime his voice would come in my head, I would block him out. I spent two months pretending he wasn't real. Now, reality is back.

"Absolutely," I grit through my teeth.

I reach for my side to the hilt Axil had gifted me.

A blood spell. I slowly withdraw the blade bringing my finger to the tip. I fill my chest with air, and on my next big exhale push my finger into the sharp icy knife.

"Never gets better," Lucy breaths, her eyes sympathetic.

"It's not every day I perform a spell bound by blood, but isn't it lovely?" I say sarcastically.

I reach my hands towards the glittery wall. Its fabric bends as it recognizes the scent of my blood, welcoming its entrance. The wall continues to bend until there is a small indentation the size of my finger tip. I hold my breath. My pulse sounds in my ears. You want answers, right? I ask myself before pressing my finger into the wall.

There is a deafening silence. I can almost hear Lucy's heartbeat, heavy but slow. I wished I had her sense of calm. Then the air shifts. A cold gush of wind and sparkles explodes with a metallic ring. I cross my arms over my face and brace myself.

But soon all the wind stops and silence comes again. Something in my heart loosens. My blood runs freely as if it had been struggling this whole time. I open my eyes, a tiny gasp escaping my mouth.

Huddled in the corner John folds in on himself. His forehead glistens with sweat; his face stained with tears and blood. I sigh in relief when I see the tiniest twitch of his fingers; the only thing convincing me he's alive.

I take a step forward, and feel cool fingers wrap around my arms, but they are not slender and dainty like Lucy's. No, they are strong and rigid. Axil squeezes my arm for a moment before loosening his grip. He stands behind me, abandoning where we had left him.

I look over at Lucy and there is a twisted combination of empathy and violence in her eyes.

The air swirls as a color appears before my eyes. A connection. A tiny green glow showing through his torso. I don't have to know what it means to feel it. Relief.

"John?"

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