Page 64 of Phixmery

I shake my head. “I thought about that, too. Tal, didn’t you say her scent has been changing, yet that it smells familiar somehow? What if the reason she’s hiding her magick is not because she doesn’t want to use it, but to not bring attention to herself? If she is Maeven, she would have realized how dangerous it would be coming here. Her familiar has already given her enough attention. Plus she hasn’t used her other magick in front of us, otherwise I’m sure we would have sensed it.” Fuck, why am I arguing for this? Maybe it’s so I can get it all off my chest, and when they tell me I’m crazier than usual, I can continue on my merry way.

Killian punches the tree next to him. Bark splinters and cracks as it shatters, leaving a sizable hole where his fist made impact. “Then why doesn’t she remember us?” he bellows, panting, the hold on his magick hanging on by a shredding thread.

The question hangs like an iron blade over our heads. Why doesn’t she remember us?

That’s when a piece of the puzzle possibly slides together. “The impenetrable shield on her mind… What if that has something to do with it?” I ask the others, trying to stomp out the desire for this to be true.

Talyn shakes his head. “I don’t know. Either way, we need more information. If this block is on her mind, how do we know it wasn’t placed there by the enemy? She could have no idea who we are, or she may not even know her true origins. It would explain why Zorn wasn’t able to find her. After The Choosing, we will find a way to get rid of the block and find out what she knows. Until then, let’s just focus on getting a message to Cyn and keeping an eye on Solace.”

Killian says nothing as he storms back to Voissor, the forest trembling with every rage-filled step he takes, while Tal and I silently follow after him. Why couldn’t they have just told me I’m insane like they normally do… I don’t think I could handle it, if this little flickering flame of hope were to blow out and she really has been dead all this time. Yet a worse thought crosses my mind—what if she was alive and put through horrors without us by her side?

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

THERE'S A LITTLE MORE THAN a week until The Choosing and we still haven’t gained access to the restricted section in the library. We have officially given up trying to find a way around the magick imbued on the doors. We did, however, find a way around not being able to train my powers: by doing it in the training yard with a twist. I made sure to watch the others and ask questions, making it seem more like curiosity about their magick. It’s like learning without doing. I will just have to make sure that when I leave, I’m able to practice along the way to wherever I’m going. Although, the closer we get to the end of year one, the more my nerves keep building up. Telling them I’m leaving is one thing… asking them to come with me is another.

Physical Training has been even more relentless than normal, yet Sergeant Craven has backed off on his constant verbal assault. Driscol won’t even look my way. In fact, he stays as far away as he possibly can without being overly suspicious, and Verlice—Jesper—has been acting strange, too. He’s somehow more distant than he was, and clingy at the same time.

I half expected him to question me and demand answers about what happened in the bathroom that night, but he never did. My face heats up thinking about that one small moment we had right before Nero tried to claim a prize. The memory of him shirtless lives in my head and always seems to pop up at the least opportune time. But I can’t help thinking of his fingers lingering on my neck and collarbones. It’s completely ridiculous to be thinking that way about him, especially after being attacked, and thinking about him even after he’s been with Cresida. A shiver of disgust rips across my skin and bile builds in my throat.

Just like that, the fantasy recedes, for now.

“Why don’t you just talk to him?” Nero teases, catching wind of my thoughts. He hops along my arm up to the table in front of me from my shoulder.

Using my middle finger and thumb, I fling a berry from my plate at him, which he catches with his beak. “Because, there’s no point. He was just helping me in the moment. He was just doing fates-know what with Cresida, and I’m leaving in a little over a week. I’ll probably never see him again.”

He rolls his eyes at me and waddles towards me with all the sass he can muster. “Exactly, you’re leaving soon. What’s the harm with testing the waters before you leave? You’re only young once, Rav.”

“Nope, not having this conversation with you,” I tell him out loud, earning a couple amused looks from our table.

My squad has got more than used to me having one-sided conversations with Nero. I’m quite sure they even enjoy them.

“And what conversation are we not having with our little feathered friend?” Roz teases as he places both hands under his chin, blinking innocently at me.

Melissandre snickers, playing with her dual-coloured braid, twisting it around her finger. “Probably Sergeant Verlice again. I heard her arguing with Nero the other day about it.”

Bracken scoffs, dropping his fork loudly on his plate. “So he helped her, what’s there to even argue about? He’s not even attractive with that messed-up eye.”

An inconceivable wrath forms in the pit of my gut. “Scars don’t define a male, or a female for that matter. Just because you can see the battles from the ugly they’ve faced in life doesn’t mean they aren’t great fae at their core.” I shove myself up from the table, my half-finished supper left to go to waste because I can’t find it in me to stomach it right now.

“I didn’t mean you, Rav,” he stutters, also rising to his feet, but Gregor pulls him back down and shakes his head.

I turn to my friends, grinding my teeth. “I’m going for a walk. I’ll meet you down at the training yard in a bit.”

They nod their heads, telling me to stay safe, but I can see their worry.

“You should take one of us with you,” Ember advises, her eyes darting over to Bracken and then Banshee One and Two.

My head shakes roughly back and forth. “I’ll be fine. I just need to have a moment alone. But I do want to talk to you guys later about something,” I hedge, and when she nods, I take off for the dining hall doors.

The need to move and expel this pent up energy is almost making my skin itch, and the darkened halls feel like they’re closing in on me. One step after another, I navigate the halls of Phixmery and before I know it, I’m standing in front of a familiar door.

The library.

We may have given up, but maybe—it would be a risk—but I could ask the librarian about the Skuggi fae. I mean, she likes me, and loves Nero. We’ve been in here so often, scouring the shelves for any shred of information, that I feel like I could help her run it. It’s become a place of comfort here within the walls of this castle.

Placing my hand on the familiar wooden door, I push it open and step through, inhaling the relaxing scent of decaying parchment. I follow the well-worn path towards the desk you can usually find the librarian at, and a small, nearly forced smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

She glances up and when she sees us she places her quill down. “Cadet Solace, Nero, it’s so good to see you tonight. What can I help you two with?”

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