Page 35

Chapter

Thirty-Four

Kadian lay on the floor, unmoving.

Please, please be okay.

I lowered my head onto his chest, feeling the hard stone beneath us, and counted the beats, slow and steady.

The relief was so sharp it hurt.

But he wouldn’t wake up.

His eyes wouldn’t open, no matter how much I whispered his name or shook him.

The mist had done something to him, something I couldn’t fix.

What is that? The doorway to the House of Whispers.

The pale hues of dusk had vanished, leaving behind a storm—dark and violent.

The blacks and grays twisting like angry clouds ready to burst.

I stumbled to my feet, my hands shaking as I pounded on the door, my voice cracking with desperation.

“Please! Someone, please open the door!” The sound of my pleading felt too loud in the heavy silence, the words swallowed by the shadows creeping in from the edges.

A sudden crack split the air, and the door groaned open, splitting down the middle like it had been waiting to devour me whole.

And there, standing in the doorway, was Marsh.

“Brida?” His voice was soft, but it had a hard edge of confusion.

He stepped toward me, eyes narrowing.

“What are you…?”

“Please!” I gasped, the words tumbling out before I could stop them, tears spilling hot and unbidden down my cheeks.

“Kadian—he won't wake up, and I can't…I can't move him!” I couldn’t breathe, the weight of Kadian's limp body behind me pulling me under.

Marsh didn’t hesitate. He turned, shouting back through the door, “Xavius!

”

“What do you want?” a voice, gruff and irritated, called back.

“Now!” Marsh’s tone was sharp, a commander issuing his order.

A moment later, Xavius appeared, a towering figure with blonde hair, his eyes hard as he knelt beside Kadian.

Xavius's fingers pressed into Kadian's neck, searching for the same heartbeat I had heard.

“What happened?” he muttered, his hands moving over Kadian’s body, checking him.

“I don’t know,” I whispered, my voice small, weak.

“He’s breathing. I checked.” It felt so insignificant, so useless.

The knot in my chest tightened, twisting harder.

Without another word, Xavius hoisted Kadian into his arms, his body hanging limp like a child's doll. The sight of Kadian’s head lolling to the side made bile rise in my throat.

“Where are you taking him?” My voice was frantic now, edging toward hysteria. I reached out as if I could somehow pull him back, keep him from slipping out of my grasp.

Xavius didn’t even look at me. “Infirmary. He needs immediate attention.”

“I have to go with him,” I insisted, my feet already moving as if I could will them to let me follow. But Marsh stepped in front of me, his warm hands catching my arms, holding me.

“Brida,” his voice softened. I wanted to shake him off, run to Kadian, but the way he looked at me made my body still. “He’ll be taken care of. Xavius knows what he’s doing.”

And then they were gone, Xavius and Kadian’s limp form vanishing from sight. The emptiness that swallowed me was immediate, a cold ache settling deep in my chest.

“Wait,” I called out, but the word dissolved in the silence.

“Brida.” Marsh’s hand lifted my chin, forcing my gaze to meet his. His touch was tender, the kind of touch that made me want to crumble right there. “Tell me what happened.”

My voice trembled as the words came out. “We…we just came to see the entryway… Illerium hadn't taken us yet, and Kadian—he’s been locked in his room for days. I just…I just wanted to help him.” The tears came harder now, unstoppable. “I brought him here.” My chest heaved as I sobbed, the guilt suffocating me.

Marsh pulled me close, his warmth wrapping around me like a blanket I didn’t deserve. “Shh…you did nothing wrong, Brida.” His voice was soft in my ear, his hand stroking my hair in gentle, soothing motions. "You did nothing wrong."

I stood there, buried in his chest, the sobs wracking my body until I felt like there was nothing left in me. But he didn’t let go. He held me, whispered those words over and over until I could breathe again, until my body stopped shaking.

I pulled away, wiping at my face, trying to pull myself back together. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “But I need to check on him. I have to make sure…”

“They won’t let you,” Marsh interrupted, his voice calm but firm. “Not until morning. They’ll examine him, make sure he’s stable, and then he’ll need to rest.”

He was right, of course. But it didn’t make the ache in my chest any less painful, didn’t stop the gnawing fear that something else might happen, that Kadian might be alone and suffering, and I wouldn’t be there.

Marsh reached out again, his hand hovering in the space between us. “Let me take you back,” he said. “Please, Brida.”

“I will be ill if I have to wind walk anywhere,” I muttered, feeling the fatigue deep in my bones.

A low chuckle rumbled in Marsh’s chest, and for a fleeting moment, I almost smiled.

“Allow me to walk you, then?” His voice was soft, his eyes searching mine, and I couldn’t help but feel the weight of his gaze as if it carried more than words could ever say.

???

The corridor stretched endlessly before us, though I’d walked it many times. Every step felt heavier than the last. The joy I'd felt earlier—seeing Kadian stir with the faintest hint of life when we left—had long since drained away, leaving me hollow.

Marsh walked beside me, his hands tucked into the pockets of his black suit, the silence between us thick with unspoken thoughts. The soft shuffle of our footsteps echoed through the still air.

“Is…” My voice broke through the quiet, tentative, as though afraid to disturb the fragile space between us. “Is he going to be okay?”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Marsh continued, offering me a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. It was a kind lie, one we both pretended to believe for a moment. The silence swallowed us again, and I found solace in it, too tired to push for more.

As we reached my door, Marsh finally spoke, his voice quiet but insistent. “What happened tonight, Brida?”

I rubbed at my eyes, my mind swirling with too much, too fast. The mist, Kadian’s limp body, the weight of it all crashing down on me.

“There was mist,” I said, my voice hoarse.

“Mist?” He frowned, the concern deepening in his features. “What kind of mist?”

“The kind that takes everything,” I whispered, my fingers trembling as I brushed them against my temple. “The kind that wraps around you until you can’t see or move. The kind that…” My voice faltered, words hanging in the air. There was more, so much more, but it felt too dangerous to say aloud.

“What do you know about this mist?” I asked, my eyes searching his, desperate for answers, for anything that would make sense of this nightmare.

“I don’t know,” Marsh admitted, shaking his head, his expression tight with frustration. “There’s never been mist outside the entryway before. Not that I’ve seen.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and for a second, the torchlight caught the violet strands, turning them into flickers of light in the dim hall. “Sometimes, there’s mist up in the Tactras mountains, but…it’s not something tied to the house.”

“But the entryway,” I pressed, “It’s magical, isn’t it?”

“The door…” He paused, his lips pressing together as if weighing his words. “The door is said to foretell fortune or misfortune. Clear skies mean good luck, storms… Well, you can guess.” He shrugged, a hollow smile on his lips. “But it’s just superstition.”

Superstition. I wanted to believe it, to cling to the word and let it dissolve the dread creeping under my skin. But the weight of Kadian’s collapse hung over me like a shadow, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was more than just an old tale.

“Thank you for walking me,” I murmured, turning away, my hand resting on the cold brass of the doorknob. “And please…thank Xavius for me.”

“Brida,” Marsh’s voice softened, almost pleading. I turned back to him, his face etched with an unspoken need, something he couldn’t quite say. “If there’s anything else I can do…”

His words trailed off, and I nodded, unable to form the words that sat on the edge of my tongue. He wanted to say more, but we were too far from whatever it was we’d once been able to say to each other.

I slipped into my room, the door closing behind me with a soft thud. Leaning back against it, I slid down, the exhaustion pulling me down to the floor. The silence pressed in, thick and unbearable, but it was the emptiness that undid me. I waited until I heard Marsh’s footsteps fade down the hall.

I cried until my eyes burned, until my body shook with the force of it, until there was nothing left but the hollow ache inside.

???

“We believe he’ll be alright,” Magister Thorne said the next morning, his voice steady but lacking the reassurance I needed. I stood by Kadian’s bed, staring down at his pale, motionless form. “However, we don’t know how long his body and mind will take to recover.” He adjusted his spectacles, peering at Kadian as though he could see something I couldn’t. “It’s possible he may wake in a few hours…weeks…perhaps longer.”

My throat tightened, words clawing at the back of it. “But do you believe he’ll wake up? Please, tell me you believe he will.” My voice trembled, the desperation I tried to hold back spilling into the space between us.

Magister Thorne hesitated, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “At this moment, we can’t be sure. But rest assured, we’ll be monitoring him. Should anything change, you’ll be informed.”

He glanced at his watch, and his tone shifted as if we were discussing something far more mundane. “Is today not the first day of placements?”

“It is,” I whispered. My eyes drifted back to Kadian. He looked so peaceful, so still, as if he were untouched by the chaos that had consumed the night before. I could only hope that wherever he was, whatever this state was, he was free from pain. That the voice in the mist hadn’t followed him here, hadn’t sunk its claws into his mind the way it had into mine.

“Well, you better get going,” the Magister said, his words a formality, as though this were just another day.

I hesitated, lingering by Kadian’s side, unwilling to leave. “Magister,” I began, my voice thick with emotion, “Kadian… He’s the closest thing I have to a brother.”

Magister Thorne gave a small, understanding nod. “We’ll take care of him, Ms. Larrow.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, though the words felt empty. I left the room, but my heart stayed there, tethered to the bedside of the only family I’d ever chosen.

???

I stood frozen, my mouth hanging open in a silent gasp, grappling with the enormity of what lay before me. Tamra’s voice, both familiar and oddly distant, cut through the heavy silence. “I told you,” she said, her tone almost amused, as though she were privy to some private joke that eluded me. “I no doubt looked similar when I saw it for the first time.” Her words registered as I struggled to comprehend what stretched endlessly before us.

The entry hall to the southern tower loomed above us; its ceiling lost in a shadowed expanse that seemed to go on forever. My gaze was drawn upward, but the ceiling remained hidden in the oppressive blackness. The air was thick with the acrid tang of smoke, remnants of a fire that seemed to linger long after the flames had died out. The familiar scent of Dainan was present, but without its usual citrus and salty undertones, it was more disquieting than comforting.

Amidst the shadows, dimly lit torches were strung up in a way that when you looked, it appeared as if it were a wall of fire.

Columns rose from the floor, swirling towards the ceiling. Sitting between the columns were blazing onyx tripods. The rubies that adorned the sides glinted in the reflection of the flames.

No matter where I looked, I sensed movement. “It feels like we’re being watched,” I muttered.

“That’s because we are,” Tamra said.

We stood for a few moments longer before approaching the circular door on the opposite side of the atrium. Like everything else in the room, it too was made from onyx, but in its center rested the largest blood ruby I’d ever seen, and in the heart of the ruby, an ember sparked as we approached.

We heard a faint whisper as we stood outside the door. A voice began to hum until it became clear,

In the realm where flame and shadow meet,

The goddess reigns, her court complete,

We welcome those who dare draw near,

But remember, secrets whispered must disappear

In the shadows dance, and fiery glow

None may share what happens down below

With that, the door opened as more smoke ran free.

Alvar’s voice rang out, crisp and warm, as his hands clapped together, pulling my attention away from the knot of nerves in my stomach. “Ah, Brida!” He said my name with an almost playful energy, the flicker of joy unmistakable in his eyes. He made his way toward us with long, purposeful strides, his expression a blend of charm and expectation. The space around us felt charged like it was holding its breath.

“You must be Tamra Kadem,” he said, his hand extending toward Tamra as though they were old friends. His fingers curled around hers, offering more than just a handshake—there was a connection there like he already knew more than he was letting on. I saw the slight stiffening in Tamra’s posture, her shoulders lifting as if to shield herself from the weight of his words. “Amera has told us quite a bit about you.” Alvar’s voice dropped into something softer, something more intimate. Tamra’s jaw tensed, and for a moment, I thought she might pull away. His laugh followed, light and carefree, diffusing the tension before it had a chance to settle.

“All wonderful things, don’t worry.” His laugh danced through the air like a melody, pulling her forward as he waved us closer to the group.

I found myself instinctively stepping alongside her, our movements synchronized.

“Now that we’re all here,” Alvar continued, his tone shifting into something more official, “we may begin.” He pressed his hands together in front of him, the gesture simple but holding the weight of centuries of tradition. His voice was smooth, rich, and commanding. “Welcome to the House of Shadows, home to members of the Court of Shadows whilst in Azmeer.” He smiled, the edges of his lips curling with genuine excitement.

His eyes scanned the room, lingering just a beat longer on each face as though assessing, appraising. “I believe it goes without saying that this is not where Prince Dainan, myself, or Prince Rai stay, though we do have our own private rooms here.” There was a brief glimmer of amusement in his gaze, like he was letting us in on a private joke. “Our official quarters are in the royal residence.”

His words flowed over us like a gentle current, and yet I could feel the underlying pulse of it all—the assessment, the weight of their watchful eyes, the gravity of the moment. He seemed almost boyish in his excitement, and yet there was an undeniable tension simmering beneath it, an awareness of something larger than this introduction, larger than us standing there.

“Placement offers a great opportunity for us to further assess if those we have been watching will make a good fit once the Courting is complete.” His smile widened, and though his tone was casual, I could feel the precision in his words. “This year, we invited seven of you, and we were pleased that all seven accepted our offer.”

Seven. The word hung in the air, solid and heavy. The realization coiled inside me, a tight, twisting knot of disbelief and pride. My eyes flickered to the side, curiosity tugging at me. I wanted to see who the others were—who had made the cut. And then I saw them. Familiar faces.

Derek, Emia’s friend, a boy named Finan who I’d never spoken with. I blinked. The rest? Redheads. All of them. Iona stood in the center, her confidence palpable. The others were friends that I had come to associate her with.

Alvar’s voice continued to rise and fall, but I was distracted, my mind tracing lines of connection between us, wondering about the threads that had led each of us here. “While you’re here, you’ll be given the chance to work alongside a member of the Court of Shadows,” Alvar explained. His words were inviting, coaxing, and his eyes met mine, a flicker of something unreadable passing between us before moving on. “We’re believers in choice,” he added, his lips quirking in amusement, “and we wish to provide you with a selection of whom you would like to shadow while you’re here.” The playful smirk lingered as if daring us to enjoy the pun.

Dainan's gaze burned into me before I even had a chance to react.

He could sense it, that flicker of amusement on my lips.

His eyes darkened, their intensity sending a shiver up my spine.

I forced myself to look away, to pretend that I hadn’t noticed.

“In the spirit of fairness, we’ve placed numbered papers into a bag,” Alvar’s voice cut through the tension.

He stepped forward, hat in hand, the fabric of his sleeve brushing against me.

“Please,” he said, his voice lower now, more intimate, “place your hand inside and remove one paper, unfold it, and inform us of the number.”

I nodded, my throat dry, as I reached in.

The cool paper was smooth against my fingertips, and I pulled one out, feeling the edges as if the number was written in some kind of secret code.

Prior to making our selections, shadows shifted around us, and senior members of the court emerged, slipping from the darkness like they were born of it.

Asana entered first, her gaze lingering on Alvar.

“This is Fayma,” Alvar announced.

My eyes were drawn to her—her striking beauty, tall and thin with skin like polished onyx, her eyes glowing like molten amber.

A small bow, graceful and deliberate.

“Over here we have Hadiar,” Alvar’s voice hummed on, and I barely registered the words as I watched her, my breath catching for a moment.

She was power and grace, wrapped in elegance.

“And lastly,” Alvar’s voice was brighter now, teasing, “we have Yasi and Kay, the Court of Shadows’ favorite married pair.” His laugh echoed through the room.

“That’s not all we’re known for,” Kay chimed in, one eyebrow raised in playful challenge.

Alvar’s laughter joined his, warm and familiar.

The sound of it made me want to lean in, to fall into the ease of it all.

My eyes shifted, catching Dainan’s.

His gaze never left me, and my skin tingled with the weight of it, heat flooding my cheeks.

But I could hear it, the whispering doubts in my mind.

You mean nothing to him.

He’s making a point.

This is a game. I couldn’t linger on that now.

I looked away, finding a distraction in one of Iona’s friends as she raised her hand.

I saw Dainan suppress a smirk, and my heart thrummed faster.

“Yes, Salea?” Alvar’s voice was calm, steady.

“Will Prince Rai be joining us?” Her voice was soft, hopeful, her weight shifting as she tried to peer around the other court members.

“Prince Rai is otherwise occupied,” Alvar’s answer was smooth, practiced, but not dismissive.

“You’ll have a chance to meet him during the ball in honor of the goddess of shadows.”

The moment was quiet, save for the soft rustle of paper between fingers.

My pulse echoed in my ears as I opened my hand.

A collective inhale filled the space, everyone teetering between hope and dread, and then, Iona’s voice cut through the stillness.

“One,” she announced, her tone firm, resolute.

Alvar’s hands met with a sharp clap, the sound startling in the charged silence.

“Excellent!” His voice brightened the air, the weight of the moment somehow lifting with his easy cheer.

“Who would you like to work with?”

Iona didn’t hesitate.

“Dainan.”

Of course.

I swallowed the bitterness that rose in my throat, a pitiful thing that had no place in this moment.

What did I expect? It made sense.

Perfect sense. I should have been indifferent, unaffected, but my skin prickled, burning with the heat of my own gaze as it found Dainan across the room.

To his credit, he remained still, his face a blank canvas.

Not a single muscle betrayed him.

Not even a flicker of acknowledgment toward Iona’s choice.

But his eyes—his eyes hadn’t left me.

My breath hitched, something electric stirring beneath my skin.

A thrum, like a pulse of warmth flooding through my veins, making my fingertips buzz.

I forced my attention back to Alvar as his voice resumed, each word pulling us along the inevitable process.

“Three.” Tamra’s voice was steady, and the corner of her mouth lifted in satisfaction as she secured her match—Asana.

Her relief washed over me like a wave, grounding me, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

“Four,” I said, meeting Alvar’s eyes.

“And I choose Prince Alvar.”

Alvar nodded, his smile brightening just a fraction.

There was something in his expression—surprise?

Amusement? But it was Dainan’s gaze that I felt most. His focus still unwavering, piercing through the small space between us like a physical force.

The selection process continued, a distant hum in the background as I fought to ignore the weight of his attention.

Alvar was speaking again, but my focus drifted, snagging on the pulse in my throat and the inexplicable warmth pooling in my stomach.

“You’ll be working with us for the next couple of months,” Alvar’s voice brought me back, steady and direct, “Your mornings are yours. You’re no longer obligated to go to training, though we encourage it.” A pause.

“Your afternoons, however, will be spent here. You’re free to leave for dinner, but depending on tasks, we may ask you to return to ensure everything is completed by day’s end.”

His gaze swept over the group, a mixture of authority and warmth radiating from him.

He smiled as though this arrangement were the most exciting thing in the world.

“As I’ve said, use your time wisely.”

He stepped toward me, and my heart thudded faster once more.

“Brida,” he said, his tone softening, “shall we get started?”

Behind me, Tamra stifled a smile, her eyes gleaming as she nodded toward Asana, their conversation already beginning to trail down one of the long corridors.

“What will we be working on?” I asked, my voice steadier than I felt as Alvar moved beside me.

His laugh was low and genuine, the kind of sound that made you forget your nerves for just a second.

“I thought we might start with a tour for today. I’ll admit,” he paused, his eyes twinkling with something close to mischief, “I hadn’t planned on pairing with anyone this round. I’m still formulating what it is I’d like you to work on. But I’m open to suggestions.” His gaze flicked back to mine, searching.

A suggestion? My mind raced, thoughts slipping like water through my fingers.

I tried to focus, but there was something disarming about the way he watched me.

I tilted my head, smiling.

“Well, as you know, Prince Alvar…”

“Please,” he interrupted, a playful edge in his voice, “drop the honorifics. Alvar is fine. If we’re going to be working together, I’d prefer we do so as friends.”

I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped.

“Very well, Alvar.” His name rolled off my tongue, and the casualness of it felt strange, unfamiliar.

“As you know, I love to read. I’ve become a bit of a student of history since arriving in Azmeer, and I was wondering…” I hesitated, then pushed forward, “…if I might go through records of the court. I’d love to dive deeper into the archives, to study its past.”

His eyes flickered with interest. “Oh?” he asked, intrigued.

“Is there a particular period you’re interested in?”

“I’m not sure if you’re aware,” I said, my voice softening, “but Scriba Velin is my aunt.”

He raised an eyebrow, surprise clear in his features.

“Is she? I never would’ve guessed. My interactions with her have never hinted at close family.”

I smiled, a small, knowing curve of my lips.

“You see a different version of her here. Azmeer changes people.”

His gaze softened, and he nodded.

“I don’t doubt it. She’s well respected among our scribes.”

“She spent time in Azmeer while studying for her dissertation. I was wondering if there were any records mentioning her. I think it would be fun to surprise her with them.” Despite the lightness of my voice, it was a casual lie.

While I was interested in records mentioning Addie, I would be searching for those with mention of my mother.

Alvar’s smile deepened.

“I’m confident we can make time in our schedule to investigate.” He extended his arm with a flourish.

“But for now, shall we start the tour?”

With a slight nod, I looped my arm through his, and together, we stepped into the shadows.