Page 89 of Of Withering Dreams
“The memories of you.”
He closed his eyes, forehead crumpling as if he were in an immense amount of pain, his fingers digging into the tops of his muscled thighs.
Derya swooped around, oblivious—or perhaps not—to the cloud of tension between Gavrel and me. Distressed, she barely breathed between her sentences. “I’m pleased the tonic worked—but you gave us quite the scare, you did. Gavrel carried you up here and summoned me through the gem by the door. I’ve never run so fast in all my life—living or dead! Do you mean to tell me that it reversed the effects of the pods? This is quite miraculous, indeed!” She flapped her hand in front of her flushed face. “We’ve been waiting since this morning for you to wake. Sweet Surrelia, I was worried I’d put too much mugwort in! Of all the ridiculous things to?—”
The door slammed open, and Breena darted in, Derya clucking her tongue in annoyance and setting the clothes on the bed. Kaden lingered outside. He scowled as his eyes landed on his brother. Jaw clenching, he stomped away down the hall.
At that moment, I knew I should care, but I didn’t know how to. I couldn’t. Too many emotions and thoughts spinning through me. A soothing numbness seeped over the raw edges of my mind, and I welcomed it.
Breena’s confident gait slowed as she neared me, her head tilting. “Uh, I hate to interrupt. But we have to get down there. It’s starting soon.”
“All right.” My voice sounded like an echo from another room. I slipped from the bed and gathered my clothes. “Please leave,” I murmured to no one in particular, watching the sea beyond my window. Wanting to be at one with its relentless rolling; feeling that I already was.
“Sure. We’ll meet you in the foyer,” Breena said in the softest voice I’d ever heard her use, brows knitting together as she left.
Derya sighed, pulling my wilted body in for a hug and brushing a hand over my hair. She whispered in my ear, “Good luck, my dear. I’m always here if you need me.”
I hugged her back, wet saltiness lining my eyes. “Thank you for everything. I remember you, Derya. How kind you’ve been over the turns.” She gave me a watery smile, touching my chin before departing.
Gavrel stood, his hand reaching out and then falling. “Seryn, I?—”
“I can’t do this now. Please go.” The words burned my windpipe.
His shoulders slumped. Resisting the urge to comfort him, I turned my back to him as he hesitated; the rustling of his clothes following him out of the room.
I didn’t want to deal with everything I remembered. All the turns and moments. The emotions tied to them. It was too much.
Concentrating on washing up and dressing, I willed myself to exist in the moment, not allowing myself to be dragged into the endless sea of unveiled recollections.
My undergarments were soft, and I relished the feel of them against my skin, thinking they might be the last small comfort I’d have for a while. I slipped the short-sleeved charcoal tunic over my head, the sleeves looser near the shoulders and more fitted on my biceps. My breeches were made of soft black leather and moved against my curves like a second skin as I shifted and bent at the knees a few times, warming up my joints.
A snug black leather vest wrapped around my upper body, the V-shaped neckline dipping low in the center of my chest. Breathing came easy now, my disquiet lulled by the mindless repetition of lacing the front ties of the garment.
Last, I slipped on sturdy midnight-hued leather boots that went up my calves and fastened with various straps and pewter buckles. My dagger was sheathed in its scabbard on my right, the belt hanging around my hips. A smallish satchel nestled on the other side, also secured to the belt.
Despite knowing they’d disappear once I was pulled back to my pod, I tucked my leather pouch—filled with my rune pebble and the remaining orchid vials—inside. After plaiting my hair, I tossed the thick braid behind me.
Gleaming light bounced off my ring’s branch carvings on my left forefinger. I ran my thumb over it, relishing the vibrations under my skin.
One last time, my eyes scanned the exquisite beauty of my room. It had been exceedingly more comfortable than the barracks I’d stayed in during my previous Dormancy spells. Much more extravagant than any home I’d seen in Midst Fall.
My shoulders pushed back, and I lifted my chin. I hoped Melina, Lucan, and Ryboas enjoyed their time here while it lasted.
I went to the door, my mouth pressing into a tight smile, thinking of how I’d like to destroy them. My ember strummed over my spine, its strings vibrating along my nerves. It was enjoying my burgeoning spite. I shook out my hands, breathing deeply through my nose as my teeth clenched.
I’d cope with the memories and what clung to them later. All the fury and regret and shame and grief.
Later?
A wry laugh fell from me. There’d be no later—the pod would once again wipe my memories of Surrelia regardless. But it couldn’t take the ones from home. Of Gavrel.
I had told Letti he was like a brother—that we’d never been anything more. But that wasn’t true. Not even a bit.
A sour taste lined my tongue, and I swallowed it and hurried through the halls. My boots creaked against the stone like a clock marking the seconds. With eyes boring into the path ahead, my jaw set tightly.
If I kept taking steps, one in front of the other, the seconds would carry me until I reached the end of the day. I’d get through whatever lay before me.
Through the Winnowing and beyond.
