Elara's POV~The baby slept in my arms. It was heavier than it appeared. Not in weight, but in meaning. In all the questions, none had answers yet. I stood by the window of the east tower, gazing lazily at the rain as it slid ceaselessly down its cracked glass. The Academy, however, still smelled like stone and fire. Still, there was a bit of peace in that scent now. Or maybe she was just tired.Damien was being even quieter than he had been at first when we came back from the vault. He stayed busy, walking the perimeter, tightening up all sorts of magical protections and lurked at the edge of the training field, even when half the recruits were in town. And I let him. There was nothing we had to talk about since everything shattered the instant Jasmine died.“ Excuse me, sleeping?” Lyra said softly at the doorway. I turned to see her holding a steaming mug, her sleeves covering her hands.“She is,” I said. “But she’s not her.”“No,” Lyra agreed. “However, maybe that is not a bad thin
Elara's POV~She blinked though not like a newborn waking up but more likea memory returning. Her skin looked pale, her hair clunged to her cheeks and she glanced at me."Mother," she whispered again.I froze.Damien followed immediately after, with his blade in one hand and the swaddled baby securely against him with his other. Lyra moved closer but did not answer. Even she knew that this was not a time to interrupt. I knelt down slowly. "What’s your name?" I asked. The girl tilted her head to indicate that shedidn’t know.Her lips fumbled as they sought the means of expression. Butshe didn't say a name, she made no sound but then, she began to cry, not from sorrow, but from the effort of so much memory that her body seemed to recall more than her brain could contain. I reached out to her, hesitant at first. She didn’t flinch as my hand brushed her cheek. It was warm, real and not an illusion. "Do you know who I am?"“Even in that you tell me that all is not changed,” she murmured.
Damien's POV~The name didn’t let me go.Marrow.It sat heavily in the space behind my eyes, and it clung to every thought. I stood in the silent archive, in the very place where, on the map, it was lit, brighter than the surroundings. My blade was in the holster. My voice was choked. Because what else was there to say?Elara is next to me with her finger tracing a line above the name, reading behind the strokes. Ilsa said nothing. She looked at the baby, still clutching the compass in her hand.“The line changed when she smiled,” Ilsa said quietly. “It’s as if the card was waiting for her emotion.”I watched the child. Her eyes were calm again. They knew no fear. She did not smile anymore. Just that tired, thoughtful, calm that made my skin crawl. Like she had already lived something we didn’t know.“She’s still too little,” Elara whispered. “She’s connected to something, but she can’t explain it to us. We can’t rely on her.”“We won’t,” I said. “But we can keep her safe while she le
POV: Elara's POV~The baby did not cry when I put her in the cradle. She just looked up at me, wide-eyed, and was silent, watching. She did that often. Looking the way someone who had already seen too much looks. I was envious of her silence, her forbearance. My hands still shaking, I now hovered over the edges of the wickiup blanket.Damien was across the room, sitting by the hearth, sharpening his blade. Not because he needed to. But he needed something to do with his hands. He’d not said much at all since we found the stasis-locked Jasmine echo, or since we found the Uncut man down in the vault. His body was here, but something of him had gone wandering. I glanced at him again. There were low eyes and a tight jaw. “You haven’t touched your food.”He didn’t respond at first.“Damien,” I tried again, softer.“I just can’t get that chamber out of my mind,” he finally said. “On what else is it that’s hidden beneath us?” I nodded. “The Academy was built on secrets. Now they continue to
Elara's POV~I didn’t take another breath for three full seconds. The cry was unmistakable. It wasn't an echo..Not a hallucination. It was a real cry. A cry of yet another child. I squeezed Nyra even harder, but did not feel her shake in fear. Her head tilted a little, her silvered eyes focused on the moving wall as if she had been expecting it. As if she knew next.Damien led the way, sword unsheathed, body tensed but silent. And the stone corridor that stretched before us didn’t exist a moment ago. It was a tight, sloping passage, its walls throbbing softly with anciently familiar magic. Jasmine’s magic. Maeryn put a hand on my shoulder. “Stay close to her.”“I am,” I said, already on my way. The shard-walkers remained behind. Still kneeling. Still watching. But when we stepped into the passage, they dropped their heads again. As if they didn’t belong in this part. As if we were heading off into a place even they did not dare to enter.The thicker the air got, the deeper into it we
Damien's POV~The footsteps weren’t fast. But they didn’t stop. They rang down the corridor in harmony, like a pair of people who had come this way through the ruins before. People who had names. Stories. Purpose. These weren’t people. Elara inched closer to me, her hand pressing to the baby’s back. Nyra–even her name sounded strange, as if it had been whispered in a dream and jumbled before she’d opened her eyes.“She doesn’t sound like she is crying,” Elara said in a low voice, her eyes on the dark entryway above. I noticed it, too. The baby gazed up at the ceiling, placid. Eyes wide, silent. As if she knew what was coming. Beside me, Aerik surprised with a cough and half-doubled, causing the wall to support him more than he was using it to support himself. His skin was even worse — it was pale now, and taut as parchment. “Who are they?” I asked, voice low.He shook his head. “Not who. What.”“That’s not helpful,” I snapped. He didn’t react. Just gestured in the direction of the sec