Page 115 of Ash and Feather

I sat at the desk in my usual study. Rieta had badgered me for hours about going to my bed, but I hadn’t been able to bring myself to lie in it alone.

So instead, I’d tried to find things to distract myself with in here. And at some point, I must have laid my head on the desk and drifted off, clutching the thick book that was still in my hand.

Several of the tome’s yellowed pages were marked by scraps of parchment—yet I didn’t remember what I’d been looking for. The hours were running together, each darker and more pointless than the last.

What did it matter what else I was looking for when Karys was still nowhere to be found?

My shoulder throbbed dully. The Healing God’s magic had driven out the poison, but a mark remained, similar to a bruise made up of various, sickly shades of grey. It spilled around to thecenter of my back, and it had not faded in the slightest, even as the hours passed. Weakness lingered in that shoulder as well.

The longer Karys and I spent apart, the more noticeable the weakness was becoming, as per usual—and the fatigue was not limited only to my latest injury. It was spreading to every part of me.

I did not regret giving her so much of my magic—I would never regret it—but the complications were compounding. Physically, magically, mentally. Combined with the lingering effects of the elven poison, those complications were…concerning. Almost too much to bear.

I rose slowly to my feet, flexing my hand and calling a small flame to it. I was stronger when she was close to me, yes, but I was still powerful on my own. Powerful enough to keep moving. To find her. To fix everything that had gone wrong.

Moth rested upon his back on one corner of the desk before me, perilously close to rolling off the edge. The room was deathly quiet save for his breathing and occasional snores.

The door to the study remained closed, but I heard footsteps drawing closer to it. I sensed the Winter God’s energy along with those steps, and suddenly, I was wide awake, my magical troubles entirely forgotten.

Valas let himself inside without knocking.

His face was grim.

I steeled myself for bad news.

“No sign of her,” he said, shrugging off his coat and tossing it onto the chair in the corner. He sank down into the same chair, raking a hand through his hair, clenching the pale locks tightly in frustration.

I braced my arms against my desk. “What are you doing back here, then?”

He darted a glance my way without moving.

“There are more places that need searching,” I insisted. “The realms are vast, as are the spaces in-between them. I was thinking…she could have tried to escape, and if she wasn’t able to focus enough to properly use magic to transport herself, there’s no telling where she might have ended up by mistake. Have you really checkedeverywhere?”

“Everywhere…” Valas settled more fully into the chair, clasping his hands behind his head with a sigh. “In three days? No. Afraid I didn’t manage to search the entirety of the realms—and everything in between them—in three fucking days. My sincerest apologies.”

I ignored his droll tone, shoving my chair under the desk with enough force to rattle everything on top of it.

Moth stirred with the shaking, rolling closer to the edge and letting out an irritable yawn without opening his eyes. I caught him by the leg and pulled him back toward safety.

He slept on in the center of the desk while I went to one of the many shelves lining the room and ran my hands along the rows of books and other things stacked upon them.

Again, I didn’t really know what I was looking for.

But Karys had re-arranged these shelves the last time she was in here. I couldn’t help being drawn to the things she’d touched, even in spite of the painful memories they invoked.

In between the rows of books were stacks of notes she’d made on countless subjects; everything from magic to divine politics to realm layouts to recipes. I could still picture her taking these notes—the grumpy looks she would give me when I interrupted her; the quill flashing with her obsessive scribbling; her voice, mumbling under her breath while she worked things out…

I felt unbalanced without these small pieces of her surrounding me. They’d become like guideposts over the past months, keeping me on the right path even when everything else was going to hell.

I picked up one of the notes. On it, she’d drawn a symbol for each of the three Creators; four more symbols underneath each one, representing the Marr; and still more symbols along the very bottom, representing some of the Miratar spirits—a more or less complete diagram of the current divine beings.

The symbol of Fire appeared to have been reworked several times. The parchment under it was worn through and streaked with stray marks, as if she hadn’t been able to decide how to represent the two of us. And the twin flames she’d settled on were faint compared to the rest of the symbols she’d drawn.

The longer I stared at it, the faster the room seemed to spin.

“What are you doing over there?” Valas asked.

I didn’t answer right away.

---