Page 35

LYSANDER

A few months ago, the encounter with the azeroths would have sent me spiraling in a bad way, but after coming face to face with my enemy, instead I’m revitalized.

That’s not to say I wasn’t scared. I was terrified.

But nothing happened to me — or Ezra — and the fear passed through me, and on the other side of it is a kind of calm I’ve never experienced.

The only explanation is that Ezra’s steadfast strength has infected me.

No one will tell me anything about Elsabeth, not Syril, not Owyn Maddox when he finally writes back, nor Ann, whom my letter doesn’t even reach. The pigeon returns it the same evening and leaves the letter in a pile of dust in the aviary.

I press Syril, but they only shake their head. “If Ann has decided to ally with your sister, this is a riigan matter now. I stay out of their business and so should you.”

I might be sheltered, but even I know Syril is right.

The riiga are reclusive and mysterious, like many waterspirits, and they can be powerful allies or dangerous enemies.

In the days when we lived in valleys and forests, if a riiga family built their den near your village, it could mean the start of all-out war or a centuries long friendship.

The best policy when it comes to riigan business is not to interfere.

If my sister has one on her side, it’s unquestionably a good thing.

Someone like Ann will be more help to her than her flighty and fearful younger brother.

The club is filling up when I leave Syril’s office. Tonight won’t be a night where Ezra sits with me in a booth while the music weaves between us and his foot rests against mine. But I’ll get to see him when he comes upstairs for the night.

Before I can slide up to the bar, Orion hooks me around the elbow with a shadow and drags me into a corner.

“Something’s up with Ezra,” he hisses.

I frown and extract myself before my magic can do any damage. “I haven’t noticed anything.”

“Well, you’ve been a bit busy, what with the reappearance of your deadly nemesis and the princess going missing again, haven’t you?” Orion jerks his chin at the bar. “Just look at him.”

I follow his gaze. Ezra stands at the bar, his shoulders moving as he chops something. At first he just looks the same as ever.

But no. After a few minutes of chopping he stops, and his back slumps. His shoulders heave and a now-familiar sound spills out of him.

A sneeze.

“He’s been bringing the mood down all night,” Orion huffs.

“I don’t know what could be wrong,” I tell him helplessly.

“Well, find out and fix it. Your Highness. You’re the expert.”

Am I the expert?

Ezra crawls into my bed later that night and drapes his arms around me. “Not up for much today,” he mumbles into my wings. “I hope that’s alright.”

“Of course.” I squeeze his arms.

He’s hotter than usual, and occasionally another sneeze shakes him. I wrack my head, but I just can’t figure out what I’m missing, and before I can find a new angle I fall asleep.

Somehow, our positions are reversed in the night.

I wake with his broad, muscular back against me.

My heart flutters. I smooth my hands over the ridges of his ribs and up across the swell of muscle, and he twitches in his sleep.

He’s so solid. He makes being strong look easy.

But something’s bothering him, and it’s not just the sneezing that makes me think so.

There were other signs — I just let him brush me off last time.

Unlike Ezra, I’m riddled with weaknesses.

Darkness, deep water, leaving the safety of The Sanctum.

Disappointing the people I care about. Accidentally poisoning someone with my touch.

Losing my only remaining family. The list is long, frivolous fears and real fears intertwining until I can’t tell them apart.

What if Ezra’s fears also haunt him? And what if being strong and competent and easygoing makes him feel like he can’t speak about it?

The next evening Ezra is supposed to work, but he’s nowhere to be found. Worry gnaws me. The bar is so busy I don’t have a chance to ask Plato. By the time morning comes, I’ve made up my mind.

I march downstairs.

“Where does he live?”

Orion jumps and whips around, a half-cracked egg in his hand. Yolk oozes from his shadowy fingers. “Jesus!”

“Where’s Ezra’s house? I want you to take me there.”

Orion narrows all four eyes at me and tosses the ruined egg into the bin. “I dunno if that’s a good idea.”

“I don’t care.” I cross my arms. “He needs me. You told me to figure out what’s wrong, and that’s what I’m doing.”

“Oh, brother.” Orion’s eyebrows are exasperated, but his tone is amused. “I guess I did.”

“You want me to stay?” Orion asks as I get out of the car. “This isn’t a great part of town.”

“No, thanks.” I shut the door. “Thank you for this.”

He shakes his head. “Syril won’t be happy about you leaving The Sanctum again so soon. But hell, you gotta spread your wings. Just don’t stay out after dark!”

“Ezra will drive me back before then,” I reply confidently.

I knock twice on Ezra’s door. He doesn’t answer, so I knock again. Ezra likes to sleep late, but surely he’s awake by now. I’m about to look around for a window to climb through when the knob turns.

“Fitzie, you have the key —” Ezra stops short when he sees me. “Lysander?”

I can’t help but stare. His hair is sticking up, his jaw is dusted with dark stubble, and there are dark bags under his eyes. A fluffy pink robe engulfs him, his bare feet sticking out the bottom. His cheeks and nose are pink and his eyes are glazed over.

I stare. He bursts out with one of the sneezes I’m starting to hate.

With a groan, he rubs his nose, making it redder. “Damn it. So am I hallucinating or are you really here?”

I find my tongue. “I came to see you.”

Ezra scrubs his hand through his hair, making it even more wild. “How did you…?”

“Orion snuck into Syril’s office to find your address.”

“Ah, shit. Your nightmares. I’m sorry, Lys. I just caught a bug and it finally ran me into the ground.”

“I’m sleeping fine!” I can’t believe he’s worried about me . “You’ve been acting different, and I’m worried. Orion is worried, too.”

He groans. “It’s this stupid cold.”

“It’s practically summer,” I counter, unsure why he’s talking in riddles.

“Oh.” Understanding dawns across his face. “No, baby, I’m sick.”

“You’re sick?” Alarmed, I take a step toward him.

He steps back. “I don’t want you to catch it off me.”

“I told you, human diseases don’t affect me.” I hesitate. My fingers itch to reach out to him, but his eyes are shuttered. My wings twitch in agitation. “Do you need medicine? Tinctures? You should be lying down. How ill are you?”

“It’s really nothing,” he insists.

“Should I go?”

“No — no, don’t do that, sweets. You can come inside. Fitzie’s not here — he’s been avoiding the apartment because he loathes being sick.” He steps back, letting me in, and I hear Orion’s car pull away from the curb.

Ezra shuffles around me to shut the door.

Eagerly, I drink the room in. His home is small, the walls mostly bare and the furniture sparse. Still, glimpses of him shine through. A poster hangs on the wall. His boots lie discarded by the door. A music player sits under the television. Little fragments that make me burn for more.

He hovers awkwardly next to me. “Does Syril know you’re here?”

I tear my eyes away from the room. “It’s daylight. I’m safe.”

“I’ll call Orion when you need to go back.”

“You won’t be working today?”

His face falls. “I know… it’s been busy since the festival, and they need me. I should be more reliable. Can’t believe I got taken out by a stupid cold, of all things.”

“It’s just that I’ve missed you.” My cheeks warm, but I press on. “It’s not your fault you’re sick.”

“I used to lie about being sick, you know.” A thread of darkness enters his eyes and he snorts softly.

“A couple years ago. I’d call out and get one of the other guys to cover for me when I was actually fine.

Well, physically fine. It was all in my head.

” He taps his temple, a self-deprecating smirk flashing. “Couldn’t handle the pressure.”

“Ezra.” I capture his hands. His eyes lock on me, surprise, confusion, and unhappiness swirling in them. His flushed face is tense. “Are you okay?”

His eyebrows knot together, and he doesn’t say anything for a long moment. The silence curls in my gut. I was right — I’ve missed something.

“Truthfully, I don’t know,” he says finally.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” I step closer.

He exhales softly. His gaze is dark and intense, and my heart pumps faster just from the weight of it. “It’s complicated, Lys. Sometimes I feel like I’m running in place. Getting wiped out and missing work just brings me back to a dark time.”

Emotion tugs me toward him. “I want to understand. I want to help you the way you’ve helped me.”

His eyes flicker down. “Everything is so clear when I’m wearing the amulet.

It’s a good dream I get to be part of. But when I’m here, alone, and it’s hard to keep from spiraling.

In this world… my life is far from a dream.

I’ve fucked up and let people down. I’ve made mistakes — big ones — and as a result, I’m deep in a hole of my own making.

Makes me wonder if I deserve all the things that come with the amulet. Makes me…”

“Scared?” I ask softly.

“Yeah.” His breath flutters out.

“I’m scared, too. Constantly. Over everything.” The springy hair on his knuckles bends under the pads of my fingers as I move them back and forth. “You must know that. But when I’m with you, it’s like my fears all melt away. Maybe we just need to be together all the time.”

His mouth quivers and he breaks into a hoarse chuckle. “It’s the obvious answer.” He ducks his head, brushing his lips over my cheek. “You’re really special, you know?”

I fall silent, breath pushing hard against the stiffness in my throat. After a moment, Ezra disentangles from me.