“I need to change,” I mutter.
Straightening his vest, he shakes me off before airily peeking into the room, as if to reassure himself I’m not planning some elaborate escape with my leg split open. He finally retreats, saying, “Fine, but you’ll hurry if you know what’s good for you. And if I hear anything funny, I don’t care how naked you are, I’m coming in.”
Right. Try.
I slam the door, then limp to the window and push it open to inhale thick gasps of the cloying, damp air. I exhale relief at the sight of the Castle and High Court, both still very much intact, gray and glittering on the hill. Only to drop my gaze at the sight of the torched hillside with its broken buildings and obliterated families.
I cringe just as a whip of rainwater slashes over my cheeks and chin, bringing with it the bitter scent of loss and grief and urgency. As if the elements themselves are furious at the lives destroyed. I can almost hear them whispering approval of my choice. Nudging me to move. To change all this.
I turn toward the armoire.
A knock sounds.
“Go away,” I growl, but the door opens anyway, and Colin is there. He says something to the guard before pushing it shut, and even from where I’m standing, I can tell he’s jittering all over. Adora must’ve met with him.
“So are we gonna go before there’s not any Faelen left to save?” he says, bouncing on his toes. “I’ve got the map and Breck’s gettin’ the food. She’ll be ready when you are.”
“Adora’s sending Breck?”
“To help with meals and keep an eye on my fever—even though I’m fine. Also to help with your leg since you’re not yet ’ealed, an’ apparently she needs Eogan for somethin’ else. Except between you an’ me, I think Adora’s just tired of Isobel takin’ free rein bossin’ Breck around and is lookin’ for a reason to annoy her.”
I allow myself a smirk, and not just because it’s a chance to irritate Isobel, but because it’ll also save me worrying about what Adora might do to Breck while we’re gone.
“Besides, I asked if she could come,” Colin admits. “Isobel’s taken to bossin’ her too far and I think maybe even hit ’er. When I saw the bruising . . .” His hands clench into fists and his voice shakes. “Adora had to hold me back from killin’ that witch. Breck’s keepin’ a stiff lip about it, but still . . . between Isobel an’ the airships, she’ll be in more danger here. I’d rather she be with me than have to worry.”
I nod but keep my mouth shut as to the real cause of those bruises even as a chill ripples down my throat.
“In that case I’ll be ready in half an hour,” is all I can say.
Turning back to the rain-slopped window, I allow myself one last look at the water coming down in sheets, coating the white Castle and far-off mountains in a rhythmic pulse that I swear matches the one churning in my veins. Bracing for what we’re about to do.
Colin moves to stand beside me. He stretches his hand out and lets the drops splat on his fingers. “It’s been like that since Eogan brought you in, you know. Like the sky’s cryin’ and won’t let up for anything.”
My skin freezes. I don’t glance over at him. Just keep my gaze on the storm-swept landscape.
“That’s because it is crying,” I whisper. Because my insides are crying.
He’s silent so long I finally look up to see what he’s still doing here. He’s examining my puffy eyes.
“They say it’s the only thing keepin’ the airships from makin’ more strikes,” he adds.
And then he’s grinning and turning and bounding for the door, calling behind him, “I’ll go saddle the horses.”
Shaking myself alive, I drag my shrieking leg to the armoire and pull open the drawer where I’ve seen Breck keep the hair-and face-coloring products, including the comb and bottle of liquid used to counteract walnut-root juice. Both in hand, I climb into the basin still full of freezing water from yesterday’s preparty bath and work quickly, stripping my hair back to its white.
Stripping my soul back to its creation.
Back to the Elemental I came into this world as.
When I’m done, I struggle into my blue leathers and strap my knives around my calf. I glance in the mirror on my way out the door, only to pause at the changes the past few weeks have wrought. Has it been so long that I hardly recognize myself anymore? I smile at the hair. Something within whispers how much I’ve missed that little bit of the old me. Like familiar friends that have spent too much time apart.
I grab my cloak and give way to another coughing spasm before hobbling out the door.
If Colin notices my hair beneath my hood when I reach the barn, he doesn’t comment. He’s too anxious to leave. “Breck’s waitin’ for us by the house.” He pushes a tiny wood box into my hands. “I stole it for you. Open it.”