Glass Sword (Red Queen #2)(84)

When we finally get back to Ada and the jet, I dare to read it. It’s dated for yesterday. Yesterday. We were so close.

October 22

A crude envelope, I know. But necessary. You must know what you are doing, what you are forcing me to do to these people. Every body is a message to you, and to my brother. Surrender to me, and it wil stop. Surrender, and they will live. I am a man of my word.

Until we meet again,

Maven

We arrive back at the Notch at nightfall. I cannot eat, I cannot speak, I cannot sleep. The others discuss what happened in Templyn, but no one dares ask me. My brother tries but I walk way, deeper into the burrows of our hideaway. I cower in my cramped hole of a bedroom, convincing myself I need to be alone for now. On other nights, I hate this solitary room, being separated from the others. Now I hate it even more, but I can’t bring myself to join them. Instead, I wait for everyone to be asleep before I let myself wander. I take a blanket, but it does nothing for the cold, inside and out.

I tell myself it’s the autumn chill that sends me to his room, and not the empty feeling in my stomach. Not the frozen abyss that grows with every failure. Not the note in my pocket, burning a hole right through me.

Fire dances on the floor, confined to a neat dip ringed by stones.

Even in the strange shadows, I can tell he’s awake. His eyes look alive with flame, but not angry. Not even confused. With one hand, he pulls back the blankets of his sleeper, and slides to make room for me.

“It’s cold in here,” I say.

I think he knows what I really mean.

“Farley told me,” he murmurs when I settle in. He puts an arm across my waist, gentle and warm, meaning nothing but comfort. The other presses against my back, his palm flat to my scars. I am here, it says.

I want to tell him about Maven’s offer. But what good would it do?

He would only refuse like I have, and have to suffer the shame of that refusal with me. It will only cause him pain, Maven’s true goal. And in this, I will not let Maven win. He’s already conquered me. He will not conquer Cal.

Somehow, I fall asleep. I do not dream.





T W E N T Y


From that day on, his bedchamber becomes ours. It is a wordless agreement, giving both of us something to hold on to. We’re too tired to do much more than sleep, though I’m sure Kilorn suspects otherwise. He stops talking to me, and ignores Cal altogether. Part of me wants to join the others in the larger sleeping rooms, where the children whisper into the night and Nanny shushes them all. It helps them bond. But I would only frighten them, so I stay with Cal, the one person who doesn’t really fear me.

He doesn’t keep me awake on purpose, but every night I feel him stir. His nightmares are worse than mine, and I know exactly what he’s dreaming of. The moment he severed his father’s head from his shoulders. I pretend to sleep through it, knowing he doesn’t want to be seen in such a state. But I feel his tears on my cheek. Sometimes I think they burn me, but I don’t wake up with any new scars. At least not the kind that can be seen.

Even though we spend every night together, Cal and I don’t talk much. There isn’t much to say beyond our duties. I don’t tell him about the first note, or the next ones. Though Maven is far away, he still man-ages to sit between us. I can see him in Cal’s eyes, a toad squatting in his brother’s head, trying to poison him from the inside out. He’s doing the same thing to me, both in the notes and in my memories. I don’t know why, but I can’t destroy either of them, and I tell no one of their existence.

I should burn them, but I don’t.

I find another letter in Corvium, during another recruitment. We knew Maven was on his way to the area, visiting the last major city before the ashlands of the Choke. We thought we could beat him there.

Instead, we found the king already gone.

October 31

I expected you at my coronation. It seemed like the kind of thing your Scarlet Guard would love to try and ruin, even though it was quite smal . We’re still supposed to be mourning Father, and a grand affair would seem disrespectful. Especial y with Cal still out there, running around with you and your rabble. A precious few still owe al egiance to him, according to Mother, but don’t worry. They are being dealt with.

No Silver succession crisis will come and take my brother from your leash. If you could, wish him a happy birthday for me. And assure him it will be his last.

But yours is coming, isn’t it? I don’t doubt we’ll spend it together.

Until we meet again,

Maven

His voice speaks every word, using the ink like knives. For a moment, my stomach churns, threatening to spill my dinner all over the dirt floor. The nausea passes long enough for me to slip out of the sleeper, out of Cal’s embrace, to my box of supplies in the corner. Like at home, I keep my trinkets hidden, and two more of Maven’s notes are crumpled at the bottom.

Each one bears the same ending. I miss you. Until we meet again.

I feel something like hands around my throat, threatening to squeeze the life from me. Each word tightens the grip, as if ink alone can strangle me. For a second, I fear I might not breathe again. Not because Maven still insists on tormenting me. No, the reason is much worse.

Because I miss someone too. I miss the boy I thought he was.

The brand he gave me burns with the memory. I wonder if he can feel it too.