“But if it becomes one—”
“Then we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it,” Alex interrupted firmly. “As for problems that do require our immediate attention, I desperately need a hot shower and some breakfast. So, if you don’t mind…”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” Niyx said, throwing the now sodden towel back to her. “I’ll see you at dawn tomorrow.”
Alex stilled. “What? Why?”
He looked at her as if the answer should have been obvious. “Training, kitten. You know—that thing we’re doing so you can survive long enough to save the world?”
“But tomorrow’s a school day.”
Those were the words that came out of her mouth, and judging by Niyx’s expression, he wasn’t certain whether to laugh or lecture.
“Wait, don’t say it.” She held up a hand to cut him off before he could do either. “I know that sounded stupid. Just leave before I say something even more idiotic.”
“As you wish,” he said, his voice bubbling with humour. “Good luck with your Mr. Mystery Man tonight. Check in with me once you’re done so I know you survived.”
Fully aware that he’d be the first to know if she didn’t survive, since he wouldn’t either, Alex still nodded her promise. She then watched as he activated the Valispath and took off, leaving her alone with her still comatose roommate.
It was only after Alex had finished her shower and made a deliberate amount of noise while getting ready for her day that D.C. finally let out a huge yawn, stretched and sat up in bed.
Blinking groggily at Alex and still very much out of it from whatever Niyx had doped her up with, D.C. said, “I had the best sleep ever. How ’bout you?”
Resisting the urge to throw a pillow at her best friend in a show of misplaced irritation, all Alex could manage was a fake smile and a half-hearted, “Same here,” before she left their room to hunt down some much needed food.
Alex felt a pang of relief when she entered the food court and couldn’t locate Jordan. Every other morning for the past week, his ‘secret’ sleepless nights had meant he’d been waiting for them with a mound of untouched breakfast and a wide smile on his face. Just how fake the smile was, Alex wasn’t sure, but he was certainly good at continuing to act like everything was peachy—even if his yawns told a different story.
Today, however, he wasn’t anywhere in sight, which eased some of the concern Alex felt about him possibly being alone out by the lake the night before. He certainly needed a proper sleep, so Alex assumed he must have finally had one. It would take time for him to heal from what he’d been through, but Jordan was one of the strongest people Alex knew, and she had no doubt that he would get through this.
… Especially with a tenacious princess by his side.
Smiling inwardly at the thought of her two friends finally being together—something Alex hoped would happen soon—she seated herself at a table with some of her other fourth year classmates: the elementally gifted O’Malley cousins, Connor and Mel, as well as Pipsqueak and Blink.
Looking at the latter two, Alex reflected on the difficult week they’d shared together in SAS class—and not just because of Hunter’s challenging tasks. An undercurrent of grief had shadowed both lessons in the wake of Skyla’s death. The fifth-year girl may have been considered a lofty airhead, but her passing was a tragedy felt by them all—especially Alex and Jordan, who had been present when Aven had given the execution order. There was a gaping hole where once Skyla had been, an unspoken emptiness to their class, one that they all knew would never be filled.
“If you add any more syrup, we’ll have to swim our way out of here.”
Alex looked up to find Mel’s amused eyes, her words taking a moment to sink in. When they did, Alex glanced back down at her pancakes to find them drenched, her plate overflowing.
She made a startled sound and jerked the glass bottle upright. “I’m so out of it today.”
“First-week-back exhaustion,” Connor said, passing her a pile of serviettes and helping to mop up the mess. “That’s normal. You’ll get back into a routine soon enough.”
Ordinarily, Alex would have believed him. But her circumstances were somewhat… different.
“We only had a fortnight off,” Pipsqueak said, watching Alex and Connor try to contain the pool of syrup as it leaked further across the table. “You shouldn’t need any time to recover.”
As always, Pip could be counted on to state the obvious.
“I sure need time,” Blink said, dipping his waffle into the puddle and raising it to his mouth. Clearly, he wasn’t concerned with hygiene. “I spent those fifteen blissful days surfing off the north coast of Mardenia. Such a rush, but I’m, like, totally wiped, even after being back here a week.” He double-dipped more table-syrup. “Or maybe it’s because we’ve been back a week.” He chewed thoughtfully. “How long ’til we’re done for the year?”
“Too long,” Mel grumbled.
“But not long enough,” Connor said. When the rest of them looked at him, he explained, “Next year is our last year here, unless we’re offered apprenticeship positions. Either way, fifth year is going to be wicked challenging. I’m not in a rush to get there.”
As her classmates began debating their opinions and went on to discuss what they were considering doing after graduating, Alex found herself removed from the conversation. What they were taking about, it was all so… normal. None of them had any idea what was going on in the world, what was going on with Aven, and what it might mean for them. They had no idea they might not make it to see their fifth year at all, let alone beyond that.
Agitated and jittery, Alex rose abruptly enough that their conversation paused and all eyes turned to her again.
“I’m just—I forgot I need to do something.”
Pipsqueak raised a dubious eyebrow. “Sure you did.”
Unable to offer an explanation, Alex turned away and called over her shoulder, “I’ll catch you guys later.”
Once outside the food court, she reined in her volatile thoughts by compiling a mental to-do list, heading in the direction of the Tower to speak with Darrius. Halfway there she did an about-face after catching sight of a familiar figure out in the middle of the archery fields.
Wading her way through the snow, Alex made sure to approach her instructor with caution, mostly because Maggie had her bow drawn and was taking aim at a target much further away than any human would be able to hit. Or even see.
“You’re Meyarin,” Alex said without preamble once she was a few steps away.
Maggie released her arrow. It hit the bullseye with a satisfying thwack that Alex only saw and heard because of her heightened senses.
“I am.” Maggie flicked her eyes towards Alex, nodding pointedly at her golden skin. “And at a guess, I’d say you’re the fabled Aeylia.”