Page 10 of Daughter of the Darkened City

“You should stay,” Seraphina said. “You never talk to us anymore.”

Cyrus rubbed the back of his head, considering it. “I have to get to work early tomorrow. Besides, Avenay will make you listen to that boring presentation for the rest of the night, anyway.”

“It’s not boring!”

Cyrus flashed her a grin before waving as he walked off.

Avenay helped Seraphina up the stairs to her room, pulling the covers over her shivering body. Avenay ran a hand along her forehead—no fever, which concerned her more. If it were a normal sickness, she’d let her fear abate, but Seraphina had more bad days than good lately.

“I should stay,” she said.

Seraphina’s brow furrowed into a scowl. “No, you shouldn’t. You’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this for ages. It’s an immense honor to be invited to the summit, and if you do well, the library will have to give you a research position.”

Avenay sat on the bed and leaned against her sister. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“I have Father,” Seraphina said. “And I’ll be fine. I’ll be waiting for you to come back and tell me all about the presentation, and the amazing people you’ll meet, and all the balls you’ll attend.”

Avenay scrunched up her face. “I hate balls.”

Seraphina laughed. “You hate balls and have so many to attend. I love them but I’m too weak to stay out that late. The universe has a funny sense of humor.”

Avenay didn’t find it funny. When her sister had first become ill, she’d prayed to every god that was common and the gods of myths and fables that they would give the sickness to her. Their mother had already died from the same illness, her body deteriorating slowly over the years, the physicians and mages unable to do anything for her.

They suspected it was hereditary and Avenay had always been prepared to develop it, not her vibrant, life loving sister. Avenay wasmore suited for the life of lying in bed and reading. She was more suited for the lonesome days and the early nights. Not Seraphina.

“You will go to the next one,” Avenay said, though both knew it was false. They kept up the ruse of hope because the grave truth was too heavy to carry. Death hovered at Seraphina’s bedside every day, drawing ever closer, waiting for that final kiss.

“Yes, dearest. And you and I will have to wear matching gowns, like when we were children,” Seraphina said. This was their old game. They would imagine entire lives for themselves. Entire futures where both would be present. A pretty dream.

Only a dream.

“They will be cream with purple flowers and green vines stitched on the bodice.”

“And lace on the hems.”

“And puff sleeves.”

“That fall off the shoulders.”

“We will be the talk of the entire society!The High Flierswill run a sketch of us on the front page.”

“What fun that will be!”

Seraphina turned her head to look at Avenay. “Are you all packed and ready?”

“Yes, ready to leave bright and early in two days.”

Seraphina squinted her eyes. “Are you flying with Carlotti?”

Avenay grimaced. “Absolutely not.” Carlotti was her academic rival and had been since they were children. She couldn’t imagine a more aggravating flight than one with her.

“Do you have your own map, then?”

Avenay nodded.

“And you’ve clearly marked your flight path?”

Avenay nodded again.

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