Cue uncomfortable silence.
Actually, “uncomfortable” isn’t a strong enough word. This is like if awkward and uncomfortable hooked up and had an ugly, miserable baby that won’t stop screaming and pooping all over everything.
“For the record,” Solana says, “I meant the Gales who treated my wounds over the years, and the guardians who trained me to fight. They had to get very hands-on at times, and they’ve never been this twitchy.”
“Well, they have a lot more experience than I do—with fighting and stuff . . . not with, you know—not that Audra and I have . . . um . . . you know what? I’m going to stop talking now. Maybe forever.”
“That’s a good idea,” she agrees.
I stare at the floor, wishing a sinkhole would open up and swallow me.
When it doesn’t, I wrap her wound with the widest scrap of fabric.
“It needs to be tighter,” she says.
“But that’ll hurt.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes pain’s the only way.”
It feels like there’s a deeper meaning to her words, but I decide not to go there.
Instead I pull the bandage a little tighter—but apparently it’s still not enough. She grabs my hands, forcing me to pull until her skin bulges.
A tiny gasp slips through her lips, but she moves her leg a few times. “Thanks. I guess I should’ve let you do that from the beginning.”
“Wait—did you just admit I was right?”
“Don’t let it go to your head. I’m sure it was a fluke.”
I sigh. “Now you sound like Audra.”
And with that, the moment hits an all-time low.
I stop wishing for a sinkhole and consider digging my own. I bet it wouldn’t be hard to gouge the stone with my knife. . . .
“It’s always going to be weird between us, isn’t it?” Solana asks.
“I don’t know. Maybe with time . . .”
“Yeah.”
Neither of us sounds very hopeful.
I don’t realize I’m playing with Audra’s guardian pendant until Solana reaches out and touches the cord.
“I’m glad she’s still alive,” she whispers. “And I’m going to do everything I can to make sure she stays that way.”
“Thanks,” I mumble. “I wish we had a way to know how Gus is doing.”
“Me too. Especially now that I heard that Living Storm. But I feel like I’d pick up his echo if he wasn’t okay.”
“Maybe.”
I don’t know much about the process—just that when sylphs die, they leave a small piece of themselves drifting with the wind to tell the world they’ve gone.
But we’re so deep underground his echo might not be able to reach us.
“Think you’re ready to walk again?” I ask.
“Only one way to find out.”
She’s still wobbly, but her limp is mostly gone.
I wrap her arm around my shoulder. “You’ll save more energy this way.”
“Thanks.”
We walk in silence for several minutes, until the hall curves and she pulls away.
“I’m feeling better now,” she promises.
And she does make it a few steps. Then she has to lean against the wall again.
“Is this a pride thing, or a girl thing?” I ask.
“What exactly is ‘a girl thing’?”
“Oh come on. You know how girls are, pretending everything’s okay when really they want to rip your face off.”
“Assuming I agree with your broad generalization—which I don’t by the way—I suppose you think guys are better?”
“Well, yeah. Kinda. At least when a guy is pissed at another guy, he tells him—or he punches him in the face.”
Solana rolls her eyes. “Then how do you explain all the things you keep stopping yourself from saying?”
“Like what?”
“Never mind. Let’s keep moving.” She tries to walk again and nearly collapses.
I help her lean against the wall, but she scoots away from me. It’s only a few inches, but it feels like miles.
“Maybe you’re right,” I say when I can’t stand the silence anymore. “Maybe we’re both holding things back, and if we just got it all out in the open, this would be easier.”
Her eyes drop to her hands, and she twists her link.
I’m about to ask her why she does that when she stops to look at me.
“Fine, you want to know why I feel uncomfortable around you? It’s because I can tell you blame me for what happened to Audra. And I know you hate that I use the power of pain. I also know you think you’re going to have to bond with me to save me from that power—and you act like everything I do is some big scheme to seduce you.”
Okay . . . whoa.
Holy Mountain of Honesty, Batman!
Maybe I should’ve left this alone. . . .
I don’t even know where to start, except to mumble, “It’s not like that.”
“Then how is it?”
I stare at my compass bracelet, which seems to be spinning even faster.
“I wish I could’ve saved you both,” I whisper. “And I wish you’d never had to use the power of pain. I get that neither of those things were your fault. It’s just hard not to play the ‘what if’ game, you know?”