12. I Fear the Implications

twelve

I Fear the Implications

Alessia

W ith shaking hands, I drag the man down the hall by his feet. Crimson streaks the stone behind him, his bandage having come undone. Between the wound on his head and the one on his neck, it’s only a matter of time before he’s drained entirely.

Maybe I should’ve let Tynan drink the rest of his blood.

My stomach roils, and I clamp my lips to keep from vomiting.

What a mess.

So much for learning how to control my power. It’s shaping up to be a disappointment and a colossal waste of time.

I can carry him , my shadow says.

It fills me with a sense of dread. It would be too easy to give in and let it help, but after it proved uncontrollable, I’m not taking any risks.

“No!” I say through gritted teeth. The anger burns hot inside me. “Not again. I’m never letting you out again.”

We’ll see about that.

After a few more steps, I drop the man’s feet. They slam onto the stone with a sickening thud, and I cringe.

My hands tremble viciously, and I blink away the forming tears. I can’t do this.

The air enters my lungs in short, quick bursts, and my head grows dizzy. Planting my hands on a nearby pillar, I close my eyes .

The rough bark bites into my palms, and the sensation grounds me, distracting me from the budding anxiety.

A soft breeze rustles my hair, startling me. I jerk away from the pillar, searching for the source.

Ezamae materializes in front of me with Das Celyn at his side. He adjusts the thin, silky blue headband holding his pale curls back, and a smile lights up his glass-like face. Das Celyn stares blankly, then lifts a single brow.

The sight of them is enough to undo me.

Tears burst free, and I surge toward them. “Thank the gods!”

“I take it you missed us, darling?” He chuckles.

Sniffling, I throw myself at Das Celyn.

“Oh no.” Das Celyn’s dry tone fills my ears. Their bag thumps to the ground, and they grunt as they catch my hug. I squeeze them tightly, and they gently pat my back.

“Now get off me,” they whisper, shoving me away.

A smile tugs at my lips as I use the back of my hand to wipe the tears from my eyes. Das Celyn’s familiar brown trousers and eggshell apron feel like a piece of home. They smell like dough and brown sugar, making my eyes water all over again.

“Had I known we’d be received so well, I would’ve—” Ezamae’s eyes widen, and his head tilts to the side as he stares past me to the body on the floor. “Well, that’s messy.”

Das Celyn groans even louder this time, then swats my arm. “Of course you’re making my life harder. Record speed this time, too.”

The flicker of joy I felt snuffs out as the shame and trepidation return. “It was an accident,” I whisper.

“Well, I know we agreed to help clean, but I must admit, this is not quite what I expected.” Ez squats beside the body and pokes it with a finger, grimacing. “Rather fresh…”

Curiosity dances in his silver eyes.

Das Celyn makes a noise of disdain and brushes past me. They stride over to the trail of blood and scowl.

“Horrible,” they say with a sigh. Immediately, they roll up their sleeves, tuck their dark, chin-length hair behind their ears, and begin repositioning the body. “We can’t bring anyone else here until this mess is sorted.”

“Agreed,” Ezamae says. “This is rather unwelcoming.”

“Help me then, pretty boy.” Das Celyn glares at Ezamae.

To my surprise, he smiles and takes his blue-and-white jacket off, handing it gingerly to me. “It’s suede and cervelt.”

“Okay.” I take it from him with two fingers, eyeing it with a furrowed brow. It’s heavy but doesn’t look any fancier than what he usually wears. My mind replays his previous words. “What do you mean?”

“It’s rather expensive and hard to clean.”

I gape at him. “No, what do you mean you agreed to help?”

“Rainer sent us.” His lips press into a thin line. “I hadn’t anticipated cleaning a murder scene, though.”

My face flames and bile churns in my stomach as I glance at the body. “It wasn’t like that,” I whisper. “It was an accident.”

“Not the worst accident I’ve seen.” He shrugs, rolling up the sleeves of his silver undershirt. He faces Das Celyn, who rolls their eyes.

Das Celyn gestures toward the body with annoyance. “Grab the legs, pretty. ”

“You think I’m pretty?” he teases, touching his chest.

“Pretty useless. Now help me out.”

Ez chuckles as he squats down to assist.

I’m numb, stuck in place, watching the two bicker lightheartedly. “Rainer sent you?”

Ez nods. “Rather good timing, if you ask me.”

A thank you blossoms on my lips, but I swallow it down. “Yeah, good timing,” I repeat in a whisper. “But you shouldn’t stay long,” I add weakly. “It isn’t safe.”

“The plan is for me to windwalk the workers from Umbra Court over here,” Ez says, totally ignoring my warning.

“What, why?” Nervousness blossoms in my gut.

“Because they can’t travel safely through the woods.”

“No—I mean why are you bringing them here?” I squint down at him as he inspects the body up close. “Look what I did…”

He grips the ankles and then hoists the body up. Das Celyn grunts as they grip the upper body. Their strength surprises me.

“Like you said, it was an accident.” His eyes twinkle as he winks at me.

“Ez,” I say seriously. “You know firsthand how dangerous I am.”

“All the more reason not to leave you alone.”

“I could hurt you— again .”

“So dramatic,” Das Celyn says dryly. “You act as if you’re special—the only one around here gifted with strength and power.”

“Hush, you.” Ez waves a hand dismissively at Das Celyn, then turns back to me. “The foundation of an authentic friendship is built during difficult times.”

“You’re a buttock fungus I can’t get rid of,” Das Celyn mutters, shaking their head .

“Attempting to scare us away is futile.” Ez gives me a pointed look. “We’re here to help establish the court, at the very least.”

“I don’t need help,” I say exasperatedly. “Really, you’re not safe here.”

Das Celyn snorts. “Okay, in that case.” They drop their end of the body, and the man’s head cracks into the stone.

I recoil, my hands flying up to my eyes. “ Gods! ”

“Gods is right, you frustrating creature! We can take care of our damn selves.” Das Celyn practically growls at me. “I’m no pansy-arsed muffin.”

“Fine! I take it back.” I whirl away from the body. My shadow stays quiet, and I wonder if it’s appeased now that it’s feasted on a fresh soul. “You’re right—I need help.”

Ez makes a disapproving clucking sound with his tongue while Das Celyn chuckles.

They shuffle around behind me.

“What, no thanks this time?” Das Celyn says sarcastically.

“Nope.” I stare at the ceiling, focusing on one particularly gnarly root, wondering if they’re real roots from the tree up top.

I’m grateful for their appearance. Admittedly, I’m disappointed that Rainer didn’t come himself. I know I told him I needed space, but perhaps deep down, I’m still waiting for him to show up and rescue me.

From what, though?

Myself?

“Is Rainer coming?” I finally ask.

“Do you want him to come?” Ez asks coyly .

Hesitating, I contemplate the implications. I’m getting nowhere down here alone. Perhaps my friends are right—it’s time to accept help.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “I think I do.”

“Finally—she’s stopped being an imbecile,” Das Celyn mutters. They grunt, presumably hoisting up the body.

“I will send word for him,” Ez says. “I may have made him make a deal with me in exchange for my help.”

“What?” I whirl around. They stand, holding the dead body between the two of them. The man’s head is lolled to the side, his arms dangling lifelessly. Blood stains the floor where his head was. I recoil and turn away. “What did you do, Ez?”

He chuckles. “I was unsure if his presence would make things worse. You already appeared distraught enough without his—”

“Distraught?” My nose wrinkles in confusion. “You haven’t seen me in months.” Not since he dropped me off.

He clears his throat. “I was concerned he might upset you further. I agreed to assist him with his plan by bringing the workers from Umbra here under the condition that he visits only if you invite him.”

His thoughtfulness catches me off guard. “I’m surprised he agreed.”

“He’s fairly selfless when it comes to you,” Ez says.

“Can we move our arses?” Das Celyn interjects. “Glad we’re all sappy and shite, but I can’t hold this lump of flesh forever.”

“Invite him,” I tell Ez, my back still to them. “Your help—it means a lot. I suppose I owe you both now.”

Das Celyn sighs. “You never learn.”

Behind me, the pair get to work, throwing barbs at one another as if cleaning up a body is a typical afternoon occurrence.

Blowing a heavy breath, I hurry down the hall without looking back. I appreciate my friends’ help, but I’d rather not spend another second with the body of the man whose life I took.

As I pass a row of closed doors, I carefully hang Ezamae’s jacket on one of the doorknobs. He’ll find it later.

A surge of anxiety courses through my belly.

After all this time, I’m going to see Rainer again.

I can’t take being separated from him any longer. Perhaps it’s not wise—still unsafe—but I’m going to hope for the best. Now that the shadow’s hunger has been temporarily appeased, hopefully, it won’t cause problems. It’s seemingly quiet again.

There’s got to be a better long-term solution, but for now, I hope this works.

I’m gradually adapting to the various sensations the shadow stirs within me. Unfortunately, feeding it souls is the only method to tame it so far.

The anxiety sits in my stomach, tangling into a big knot.

If that’s truly the only way to quiet the shadow… I fear the implications.