Page 260

Taly let out a harsh, wordless yell and slammed her palms against her ears. But the voice didn’t come from the outside. It was in her head.

“To hell with this.” Giving up on sleep, she kicked off the covers. Calcifer lifted his head, blinking slowly as she shrugged into her coat and shoved her feet into boots, laces be damned.

Out the window. Up the narrow stairs.

The rooftop garden was half-frozen, blanketed in shadow. She moved with purpose, already locked onto her destination. Aiden’s box of herbs sat against the far wall—organized, labeled, and carefully tended like the good little healer he was. The mirthroot was wedged in the back, camouflaged between feverfew and lavender like that was going to fool anyone.

She didn’t ask permission. Not for the mirthroot and not for the pipe she’d found tucked behind the chimney.

Smoke curled from her lips as she sat on the lip of the half-wall that ran the perimeter of the roof. Her legs dangled over the edge.

Ryme stretched below—dark, quiet, and dusted in snow. The townhouse wards blocked the city lights, giving her an uninhibited view of the auroras rippling green and violet across the sky, brushing against the bellies of the migrating luminara as they floated past.

Kairó vuun’manii.

The mirthroot didn’t quiet the whispers, but it did make her care less. So, they got louder. Meaner.

Kairó vuun’manii?

Kairó vuun’manii.

Kairó vuun’manii—

Kairó vuun’manii!

Another drag, another deep breath of apathy. Let them scream. She wasn’t listening.

Still, just to be certain—she dragged up her sleeve.

Can you read this?

In the dream-state, the brain shut down the processes that made sense of written language. It recognized shapes, impressions. But words? Words dissolved before meaning could form.

Her fingers traced the letters Ivain had inked for her:Can you read this?

Yes, she could. Her eyes closed as she sighed smoke.

Kairó vuun’manii.

She took another drag, forcing back the scream that had been building for days. She just wanted one damn second of peace. Just a breath in this whirlwind of shit where the chaos held steady. Was that really so much to ask?

Calcifer pressed his head against her leg. She didn’t look down, but she felt his eyes on her, the quiet, loyal question behind them:Are you okay?

“Don’t you start,” she muttered, taking another drag. “You’re the emotional support monster,notthe intervention squad.”

His gaze didn’t waver.

“Ugh. You and Skye both—you’re just endless judgment wrapped in fur and pretty cheekbones. Maybe it’s better you don’t get along.”

She climbed up onto the ledge, boots crunching on the frost. The wind caught her coat, tugging like it wanted her to fall.

Kairó vuun’manii.

“Fuck off!” she screamed to the wind. Then let her eyes drift down to the ground so far below.

Taly exhaled and watched the smoke drift upward as snow collected on her lashes. It was two years ago for her now—only one for the rest of the world. Just one year in this timeline since she’d stood in this exact spot. She’d never told Skye, probably never would, about that night, not long after she left home, when she’d come to the townhouse. The gate was spelled to let her in. She was cold, hungry, scared. After raiding the pantry, she’d come straight to the roof.

Climbed up on the ledge of it.