Page 41 of Above
While Talon’s bed was huge, it wasn’t very tall. I wasn’t quite sure how he managed to get under there and find that spot. My hand finally found the loose wooden panel, fingers digging into the cracks and tugging it up. There, lying safely inside, was the leather bound book.
Calling onto my stars, I lit the cramped space, opening the book and frantically flipping through the pages. Dates flashed by, each bringing me closer to the night before. The parchment pieces were loud as they scraped against one another, a slight musky smell coating the area and invading my senses.
Then, miraculously, there it was, written with a neat and precise hand leisurely scrawling one of the shortest passages in the entire journal.
Nova is making improvements every day, and I’m starting to watch the vision come to life. She is extraordinary. I have a feeling that Az sees that too. Maybe even the others as well. I’m terrified of what they will do to take her out of the picture. Everything she is and can be puts them at risk in their eyes, but I see the truth. Every time she smiles my way or offers me a dry joke, I see it. With each new quirk she shows me, like the way she picks at the skin on her lips or rubs her thumb against the back of her pointer finger, I see it. All the moments when she tightens her jaw and stands tall, I see it. In Nova, I see a future I had never allowed myself to consider. A part of me wonders if I should explain that to the others. Pri, Cal, Quinn, and Dove would understand. They would see what I do if I took the time to show them. Az though…he would never understand. He’d only kill her where shestood. Slowly, with measure and thought and wicked satisfaction. Which is why, for now, she’s only mine. Sharing her too soon would only lead to chaos.
What did he mean? Was he seeing some sort of brighter future for us than I was? If I were being honest with myself, I didn’t want a future with Talon. While I had once dreamed of a beautiful life filled with love and laughter, I no longer saw that as a possibility. Definitely not with Talon, who seemed too eager to shape and mold me. To fix me if he could.
Sighing, I replaced the journal, taking care to make the scene look just as I had left it and vowing never to look again. When I was sure it appeared untouched, I made my way out, scooting backward like a lunatic until I was free of the overly large bed.
The pounding in my temples, making everything feel far more heavy and difficult than it usually did, began to intensify. So I grabbed the graphite and parchment, then shuffled to the bed, crashing down with a newfound love of the ridiculous thing.
My bag was set against the wooden bedside table, so I was forced to reach down and sort through it as I hung there. First I grabbed a tonic for my head from the front pocket, downing it like a starved animal. Then I opened the largest compartment. Near the top was Celeste’s letter, which I had avoided reading for the last two days. I feared what she felt required privacy.
Starlight,
I miss you. So, so much. I hate that you left with us on bad terms, but I want you to know that I’ve been keeping my promise. Mama, Dad, and I each take our haya doses as you instructed. I’ll warn you though, it’s destroying Dad. He hasn’t gotten out of bed in nearly four days. Mama and I take turns feeding him broth, but his cough has worsened tenfold. Deathkeeps him company often, much to his displeasure. He says she has evil eyes. I told him that only a creature made for Nova could. He got a kick out of that.
What I’m really writing to you about isn’t the haya or Death or even Dad. I just… I want you to see what I do. To face the world head-on so you can understand why I so desperately hate it. We aren’t safe, Nova, and we won’t be unless things change. What sort of life is this? Sitting around, waiting to be slaughtered or worked to death? I can’t find love because I’ll outlive any good woman. I can’t do art because Mama needs help in the apothecary. I can’t even move away, because how would I survive? I can’t do anything because ofthem.
I keep asking myself, will silence be my legacy? I won’t live as long as a shaytan. I don’t have magic like you. I don’t have money like the core families. But I have a voice. It might be the only thing I have of value. And yet, I’ve been silent for fifty-two years. We both have.
Maybe its time for you and I to be loud.
The letter ended there, as if the weight of such words required being the final passage. They were heavy, so much so that I could have sworn the parchment was too much to bear. Which was why I let it fall, watching as it dove towards the ground in sweeping arcs before landing softly upon the hardwood. My eyes struggled to look away, as if it might disappear, or worse, be found.
Cuddling deeper into Zade’s blood red blankets, I pulled a thin plank of wood I had found to write on, lined up my parchment, and began.
Heavens,
I miss you too. I wish I had better words for howhard life is without you three (and a half). Don’t tell Mama and Dad, but I fear I might not make it through academy alive. It’s because of that daunting fact that I am willing to say this to you.
You cannot change the world.
Harsh as that may sound, I need you to hear it. I have seen what the cores can do. Even worse, I have seen what theywilldo. Preserving their way of life means everything to them, and your resistance could lead to danger for us all.
Pausing, I reread my words, hating how complacent I sounded. But really, what else was I if not a part of the regime that Celeste so deeply loathed?
No. I was not like the cores. That I knew.
Give me until the end of Elite Academy. Let me work hard to come home to you all and be a part of whatever you are planning. Because, while I don’t think we can change Dajahim, maybe we can make it better in smaller ways.
I love you, big sister. Stay safe.
Nova
With a heavy sigh, I reached down into my bag and grabbed my sack of wages for the last month. It was more than I would have made in a year as a mere grunt. A lifetime of better was just ahead if I could push on. Slowly, I folded the parchment into the shape of a bird, demanding my magic make it fly. Within seconds, it was flapping its wings, readying to find its mark.
A sound came from the doorway, Talon slipping inside before placing his hand on the door and whispering to it. I paid him no mind, facing the creature above me.
“Take this to my family,” I murmured, holding out the small burlap sack until the bird took it in its beak and darted out the window. With a sense of terror and deep-rooted melancholy, I watched it fly home.
Chapter Twenty
Azazel
“Every day I find I am more and more afraid of becoming my father.”
