Page 81 of Lux

Minchae does not die by the time morning comes. There is the expectation, heavy in the air, that she will. Caspian seems to think so. Contrary to his violent nature, it is an impending demise that unsettles him. I can guess why. With his senses, he can hear the victim’s ragged breathing. Listen to their heart struggle to beat. He can taste the inevitable decay on the air, like a rainstorm about the fall.

I do not know how I feel. How I am meant to feel.

There is something else in the air that threatens to distract me from this horrific situation. A feeling. A suspicion. A niggling tingle at the back of my mind.

I am forgetting something. Something important, but what?

After checking on Minchae and Aleska, I return to the roof and pace while Caspian watches. He will know when Altaris arrives or if anything changes. That is why I tune the rest of the world out. Why I don’t feel guilty for sinking inside my skull and blinding myself to everything.

Everything but the voices in my head I’ve been desperate to ignore until now.

They chatter, there in a corner of my mind only I can reach. Like living beings, they speak amongst themselves in hushed whispers that I must overhear.

“...our mistress isn’t ready. We mustn’t make noise until then. Mustn’t say?—”

The thoughts don’t belong to Caspian. They are far more alien than even his are. Distorted and high-pitched. Unnatural. Yet, there are two distinct tones. One is soft and lilting, the other deep and rasping.

“Hush. She has noticed your chittering. Hush.”

The voices go quiet while I stare at the city awakening around me and try to breathe. Monster, Altaris called me. Hybrid. Abominable.

Perhaps another term should be added to that list. Insane. I’m hearing voices. Even among the fae, it is not a promising sign.

I shift closer to the edge of the roof, hiding my face from Caspian. Despite my best efforts, I can't hide my nerves from him. My thoughts.

I can sense his interest stirring. His steps advance on me, purposefully noisy.

“What is wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I say quickly, wrapping my arms around my front. “I am cold, is all.”

“Cold.” He repeats it like a foreign term. Then he inclines his head toward the door. “Altaris has returned. Come.”

“Coming,” I say. Then I listen to him open the door and step inside. Hesitate. “I am coming,” I insist.

So, go.

He does, but I don’t know if his absence provides the peace I thought it would. It is easier to think. Easier to prod those lingering, hazy thoughts, and question what they mean.

Something happened back at the circus. Someone attacked Minchae. Who?

Who?

“We know…” The two strange voices reply in unison, their voices faint, beyond Caspian’s notice. He has gone downstairs to greet Altaris. His unease ignites our connection like a candle wick caught aflame. Something is wrong.

And yet…

I can’t move. I can’t tear my gaze away from the view below and I can’t stop myself from asking, of those disembodied voices.

“Who?”

They reply in a whisper that triggers a rushing of blood through my eardrums. A whisper that makes the entire world fall away. But this sudden drop isn’t the thrilling excitement I felt while ‘flying.’

It is terrifying, as though—for a horrific moment—I cease being Niamh. I cease being weak and meek and malleable.

I become something unknowable and terrifying.

A stranger within my own skin.

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