“Where?” I asked, hoping my blush wasn’t as visible as his.
“The dining hall.”
“All right. I’ll come in a minute.”
But he didn’t move. “I was told to accompany you. They don’t want anyone alone in the citadel.”
My eyebrows lifted.
“I know I’m not much protection against my … against him.” He stumbled over his words, a muscle in the corner of his eye twitching. “That blond Paladin wanted to come get you, but the redheaded girl pointed out he’d probably get lost. So your father sent me.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know how else to respond to his admission. Raidyn had wanted to come get me—but Sharmaine had stopped him? I flushed even hotter, my neck probably turning as red as Sharmaine’s hair. The Paladin girl who had grown up with Raidyn and Loukas, who had both of their love, who had always been kind to me. Then why had she refused to let him come get me? It wasn’t that hard to find my room.
Shutting the door behind me, I stepped out into the hallway and followed Halvor back the way he’d come.
Awkward silence swelled thicker than the shadows that had always felt alive somehow, as we slowly walked side by side toward the dining hall. I couldn’t help but remember the last time we’d walked through the citadel together alone—in the middle of the night, hoping to get into the Hall of Miracles. If only we’d known what havoc our actions were about to wreak upon both worlds.
And of course, that was also the night I’d basically told Halvor I had feelings for him—only to have him reject me. It was hard to believe that something that hurt so badly then only held the sting of humiliation now. I’d seen him with Inara; I knew something had happened between them. No matter how embarrassing it might be, nothing could be worse than allowing him to continue to feel that I still cared for him like that. My cheeks flushed hot. Unlike the heat Raidyn engendered—all melted and sinuous and delicious—this was itchy, uncomfortable, and unwanted.
“Halvor, I, uh … I just wanted to say that … er … that night before all of … when I thought that I … when I said that I … um…” Mortification chewed at my gut as I blundered through an attempt to explain myself.
“You don’t have to—”
I tried to continue over his protest. “I’d never met a boy before and my mother made me think that I had to—”
“Really, Zuhra, you don’t need—”
“I didn’t know what I was talking about. I thought what I felt for you was … well, you know. But now I know—
“Please, please stop.” Halvor reached out and grabbed my arm. I snapped my mouth shut, my face flaming so hot, I could only hope the deep tan I’d obtained from my time outside in Visimperum hid my blush. “You don’t need to do this. We’re friends, right?”
“Yes. Friends,” I repeated, grateful and only a little bit miserable, as we continued toward the dining hall.
My gaze landed on a large bloodstain ahead, a crimson blotch on an otherwise gray rug, and had to suppress a shiver. I slid a glance toward Halvor to see if he reacted at all to the evidence of the destruction his uncle had caused. The death and suffering Barloc had brought upon us all.
Something in Halvor’s expression tightened. Upon closer examination, I noticed the weariness in his eyes, the bruises beneath them, the exhaustion that bowed his shoulders forward. I’d never seen him so defeated. We’d all been so wrapped up in our own struggles—healing Inara, finding Grandfather’s body, Loukas collapsing from a wound he’d concealed from everyone—had any of us stopped to think of what Halvor was going through? Barloc was his uncle, the man who had raised him after his parents’ deaths. What was a shocking betrayal for us had to be a devastating one for him.
“I’m sorry, Halvor,” I said as we neared the dining hall. The low murmur of voices, even though they were barely audible, was still a shock.
“You really don’t need to apologize; I understand what you’re trying to—”
“Not for that. I meant … for your uncle. I know you were close.” I glanced sideways at him again. “I’m really sorry.”
He shrugged, but I didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched.
“Me too,” he finally responded, low and gruff.
After several seconds of weighted silence, I couldn’t help but ask, “Did you have any idea he knew how to do this? Was it in the books you studied?”
“Do you think I had something to do with it?” He stopped so abruptly, his hands clenching into fists, I had to skid to a halt to avoid walking right on past him. “That I helped him attack the girl that I—attack your sister?”
“No—of course not.” We stared at each other, Halvor’s eyes flashing in the dim late-afternoon light, his chest rising and falling as though prepared to fight—or flee. “I only meant … I wondered if you had any idea where he learned to do this. If you had studied it and knew of a way to stop him.”
There was a tense pause before I saw my words sink in, the anger draining out of him, leaving him deflated once more.
“I didn’t know a thing. I don’t know how to stop him.” He shuddered, and I wondered if he was picturing Inara as we’d found her—lying on her back, her throat ripped out, and his uncle’s mouth stained crimson with her blood. “I’m sorry.”
We walked the rest of the way to the dining hall in silence heavy with hopelessness.
TWO
ZUHRA
Giant flames licked greedily at the pile of dry wood in the once-dank hearth, at the far end of the dining hall. The hiss and crackle of the fire devouring its fuel was a comfort, filling the cavernous room with warmth. Sami bustled around those at the table, setting platters of food in front of them. Her presence was familiar, soothing. As long as Sami was there, bringing us the meals she worked so painstakingly to make, things couldn’t be that bad. Something in our world was still good, still normal.
Inara sat next to me, hands clutched together in her lap. After all these years, she was truly lucid—permanently. I longed to take her somewhere else, to talk to her alone, but it would have to wait until after the meeting that still hadn’t begun.
Our parents sat on my other side, Mother next to me, her hands fluttering restlessly—from twisting her skirt in her fingers, to adjusting the silverware on the table, to pushing stray hairs behind her ear. Every time I glanced at her, she was looking at my father. I wondered if she longed to reach out and touch him, to assure herself he was real and solid and actually there at her side. I was still reeling at seeing them together—the sudden reality that our family was reunited after nearly sixteen years of separation. But what should have been a moment made radiant from dazzling joy was overshadowed by the carnage and suffering that had accompanied his return.
It wasn’t just the four of us at the massive table I’d only ever eaten at once before, that first night Halvor had shown up at the citadel. Raidyn, Sharmaine, Sachiel, Loukas, Halvor, and two other Paladin were also there. A tense silence hovered over the room, a sort of foggy disbelief that made the gathering seem hazy and unreal. This couldn’t possibly be happening; surely I was dreaming that actual breathing Paladin sat across the table from us. But every glance up confirmed the reality that this was no dream.