CLARA KNEW the sun had gone behind the clouds. She could look up and see it for herself, but she couldn't. And for some reason, she had to squint her eyes to see through the thick cloud of smoke that covered the lawn. The green grass had mixed with the billows of smoke, turning it into a shade of gray. A hollow ringing noise filled up her ears, and her knees began to tremble.
Right after she fired that shot of moon magic, a loud ringing of an explosion resonated. A beastly tremor had knocked them off their feet. The crystal meter crumbled into nothing, not a sliver of sign it had been there.
The silence screamed through every crevice it could find, freezing the breath they held in an attempt to digest the scene which unfolded. No one dared to ask a question. All they could ever do at the moment was to gape and purely wonder.
Her fingers recovered and found their senses. It twitched and clutched tightly the damp grass below, collecting earth under her nails. Then her whole arms found their bearings. The numbness left Clara's body bit by bit. And slowly, she sucked in all the air she could to fill her lungs with smoke.
A rush of cold traveled Clara's skin from the sweaty palm encircling her wrist. And it even made her more aware of the sturdy figure against her back, wrapping her protectively inside his arms.
She turned her head to look at the wide-eyed prince. A cold sweat trickled from his hairline down to the tail of his eyebrow until it reached his chin. He was ghostly pale and she forgot to count the times he swallowed.
As if sensing her eyes on him, Emir looked down sluggishly. His reaction still looked shocked, but this time, another emotion swam across his face. With lips parted and a crease drawn between his eyebrows, Clara knew he pleads for an answer, but he just didn't know how to ask. His deep dark eyes were stormy and she could feel the heat coming off them.
"Anneliese," he whispered that even in the deafening silence, not anyone but them would be able to hear. She thought there was a magnet, a secret pull, that brought them closer to each other. But not until someone had to interrupt them.
"Your Highness." The thin string connecting their eyes was snapped off by a hoarse bass-like voice. Professor Rhyb stood on one knee. His restless eyes and shallow breathing didn't go unnoticed. "Let's... Let's talk at my office. Now," he brooded, eyes stern on Emir.
Clara could feel the prince's grip tighten around her arms as he nodded in agreement. He gingerly pulled Clara up and waited as the professor instructed the staff to guide the students back to the foyer for further instructions.
"Professor Ken—" Professor Rhyb was about to call for the new sage but stopped when he realized he was nowhere to be found.
"Professor Rhyb," Emir called out in a strained voice. "Perhaps, we have to take this matter immediately. In your office, shall we now?"
In one stiff nod, Professor Rhyb led the way, and Emir and Clara followed, together with the unusually distant Maxwell. When she looked back at him, Maxwell simply acknowledged her with a nod and never looked at her again. She never thought that pebbles were a catch until Max exhibited an interest in them.
PROFESSOR KENDRICK opened the door from inside the office before Professor Rhyb managed to turn the knob. His gray shirt was a bit wrinkled and his black knit tie loosened at the neck. But he regained the appearance of serenity when everyone around them was less composed. He wiped his glasses using a monogrammed handkerchief and stepped aside.
"Please, come in. I had checked on a few papers and was just about to leave."
The office wasn't that big, just wide enough for a large black desk, just long enough for three tall black bookshelves, each one crammed with hundreds of well-worn books. But it was comfortable and even welcoming—not like what Clara had imagined of a messy workspace a busy professor would have. There was a rug in the center of the room, and a wide window looking east at the redwoods. Now, at dusk, the forest had an ethereal, almost lavender hue.
Professor Kendrick exited and closed the door behind him. Professor Rhyb sat down on one of the two maroon desk chairs and motioned for them to take the other. As Emir guided her to sit, she surveyed the framed pieces of art, jigsawed into every spared inch of the wall. Most of them were varying degrees of detail.
Clara took a deep breath, wondering where to begin. It was an inevitable case that they would be asking her about the magic they had just witnessed. And word might even spread like a wildfire. Days would come when the only thing the students could talk about was her.
"This isn't your office, professor, so why are we here?" Emir broke off the silence.
"Whatever we talk about will be safe here, Your Royal Highness. My office is unfortunately unavailable right now," Professor Rhyb said and an exasperated sigh fled from his mouth.
Emir didn't raise any more objections. He whispered something to Maxwell, the other listening intently. And whatever he said sent Max in an urgent step outside this room.
"That thing earlier is not the least bit flashy. And it could have gotten its attention," Emir hissed, stressing out how bad of an idea what took place was. And he seemed to be referring to something he didn't think of specifying.
"I'm afraid it did." Professor Rhyb stood up and went to the farthest bookshelf. He pulled down a thick book with a dusty red cover and brought it back to the desk. Clara recalled where she saw that book when her mind took her back to the late-night library heist with Holly last night. He flipped the book to a certain page and Emir went beside him, having his share of the view of something interesting.
"It's this, isn't it?" The sage asked and Emir answered with a low hum. Then he turned the book right side up in front of her. It was the same image as what she saw in Blaire's library. A weird diagram, the halves of the sun and moon joined together.
From standing beside the sage, Emir walked up to her and kneeled on one knee until their eyes were leveled. The cold rush from his fingertips tickled Clara's skin the moment their hands came in contact, with his caging hers.
"How long have you known that you possess such power, Anneliese? I know what it is and this shouldn't have been a secret among the royal circle. There's no reason for Zephyrus to keep the whole empire in the dark." Like a gentle sea foam that lapped the shore in its wake, the usual emptiness in his voice was gone, whisked away by the wind and out of the window.
"Not too long ago." She focused on breathing. She could handle this.
"How long? I want a specific answer, Anneliese." Emir's voice hardened a bit just how fast she could switch a light.
"Yesterday," Clara responded.
The prince's eyes squinted at her answer, the kind when there was something suspicious going on.
"Yesterday," he repeated. The look on his face took her back to the very first day they met, nostrils flaring and eyebrows hunched forward.
A small tapping sound on the open window grabbed their attention, followed by a smooth rustling of feathers. An Alium sat on top of Professor Rhyb's desk, its colorful feathers sprawled like a rich silken mantle. Its wide wings that occupied the width of the room folded on its side and its extravagant tail cascaded down the table similar to a beady curtain. It prattled in a series of cheerful chirrups. And each time, the sage would nod his head.
He stood up on his seat and gave the two of them an alternating look as if weighing the odds of leaving the two of them on their own. "I'll be back in a short while, Your Highnesses." Then, he was out the door, the Alium tailing behind him, a soft gush of wind whipping across Clara's face in its wake.
The soft thud of the door signaled the sage's exit and Clara was left alone with Emir, who was seated at the parallel seat, giving her a sideways squint. A few minutes of unnerving silence with him wasn't the best. It made her want to crawl on the floor towards the door just to save herself from the discomfort of his prying stare.
But alas, Professor Rhyb came back. The Alium was nowhere to be seen, but another man trailed behind him. His long-sleeved jacket covered him to just above his waist and was tightly tied with string slightly off-center. The sleeves of his jacket were wide and reached down to his wrists, decorated with a decorative band almost at the edges. Its narrow v-neck revealed part of the rather simple shirt worn below held together by a simple knot. His pants were loose and were reaching down to his leather boots made from uncommon leather, but were otherwise a design found commonly. And beside him was yet another man, a lot older, and time was evident in every line on his face. He was dressed in a white-hooded cloak embellished with intricate swirling patterns.
The three were quick to bow their heads upon seeing the pair. It was Professor Rhyb who spoke. "Prince Emir, Princess Anneliese, I have brought Elder Hayes and Healer Reed with me. It is best to take matters as quickly as we can."
Clara's head snapped at the older man, eyes suddenly widening. The power of an Elder was no joke. She knew that fact from all the years she spent harnessing her skills with an Elder from Terralis. Would he be able to see through her and know that she wasn't Anneliese?
Her eyes switched to the younger man when he stepped up close enough beside her. An aching familiarity suddenly attacked her chest just looking at his bright smile. It reminded her of something that used to be so close but so very distant and far from her reach. Was it even possible to feel a sense of security in the presence of a stranger? If not, then she didn't know what else could this be.
"Let me check you, princess," the healer said.
Before she could even respond, Emir was swift to snatch her hand away from Healer Reed. Realizing what he did, he dropped Clara's hand as if it burned him.
"I-I'm sorry," he apologized and quickly left the room. They were at a loss as they stared in the direction the prince took off.
"That was strange of him. Did the prince hit his head in the placement exam?" the elder asked Professor Rhyb.
"I... think not, Elder Hayes," the latter answered, shaking his head. "Can you check on the princess now, Healer Reed?"
"Of course. Can I, princess?" He laid out his hand to Clara, asking for hers.
Healer Reed's hand was warm. Clara could feel the pulse of energy coming from it. He swished his other hand where a gaping hole showed up in the empty air, pulling a wooden staff from it. He used it to trace a circle around her, inscribing letters and symbols she once encountered in a book.
At the staff's last stroke, the lines glowed as if a light wanted to come out. And soon, streaks of blinding light poured out and formed a sphere, caging her in. But it was not the kind where she wanted to close her eyes, hoping for them to fade. This one gave her the feeling of the smooth rush of a river. She just wanted to bathe more in it.
"Like a fire slowly igniting." Clara's attention was diverted away from the glowing light when the healer spoke. "The core is slowly recovering which only means that her power will slowly come back. Each day her body recovers from the shock, the same happens to her core," he added.
"So there is nothing for us to worry about?" the Elder clarified, but there was a slight edge in his voice. Like he wanted to convince himself that everything was fine, knowing that there might be something more to it.
"That's the thing, Elder Hayes. The odd one here is the core that holds her air element. It seems vacant... and distant. I can't reach it even if I try. Something else is holding it back." The heer wasn't doing anything, not even a forceful movement. But the strain in his face and muscle told otherwise; he was struggling. And that had something to do with reaching out to Anneliese's other core.
"And?" the Elder questioned. "There has to be a remedy to it, hasn't there?"
Healer Reed nodded assuringly. "It isn't damaged, only locked. No cure can patch it up, but the princess will know how to reach out to it." He smiled the kind of smile that said everything will be fine. "The core is, after all, a mirror that is entwined to the soul."
"Then I shall report to the court. A lot of matters have to be discussed that concern the whole empire."
Clara was dragged into a conversation where she felt lost again. It went swift, brief like a passing stranger on a street. And here, walking beside her on the way back to her chamber room, was a man who was like a stranger, but someone who felt like she had known for quite some time. Thanks to that strange connection and a flickering image of a burning string each time they got close.
Emir's lips were sealed. After leaving the sage's office, he hadn't talked to her since. It was not as if she even tried initiating a conversation; she was equally tight-lipped.
Side by side with him under the starlit night, Clara was counting in her head as she watched their feet take their steps at the same time. And it made her giggle.
The sound made Emir's head snap at her. Horror crossed over his face before masking it completely. Clara gave out a hearty laugh, the atmosphere seems to lighten a bit around them. And she liked the feeling of it.
Without erasing the weird expression on his face, Emir inched a little farther away from Clara and her lips puckered up. He must have thought she was weird... or deranged. Did she scare him that much?
But then, she wondered how it would feel to have a nice talk with him, to know him more, under the stars without him inching away from her, wearing that horrified look whenever she acted like herself. Sometimes, Clara would go back to that night after they left the blazing Rovenshire. She would imagine once again his pearl-white wings, beating gently behind him, probing the night, luring her in. They seemed to beat in the sky almost in time with her heart. And she would give everything to touch them once again, to bury herself in them the way she had that night.
THEON STARED out at the bay. His eyes were as gray as the thick fog enveloping the shoreline, as the choppy water lapped the pebble beach beneath his feet. There was no streak of silver in his eyes anymore, just gray. He could feel it. She was too far away.
Tightening one of his intricate knots, Gabbe said, "Typical Mattheon Lockhart. Always stepping aside and leaving me to do the dirty work."
"What are you talking about? I am the one who finished him." Theon looked down at the dead body of a Hollow, at the wiry gray hair matted to his pasty forehead, at his gnarled hands, at the dark pool of black tears across his chest. It made Theon feel cold all over again. "If the killing weren't necessary to ensure my sister's safety, to save her, I would never raise another weapon. Never fight another fight."
Then—as if he were an athletic shot-putter—Gabbe bent his knees, spun around three times to wind up, and launched the dead Hollow out across the water, a hundred feet clear into the air.
For a few long seconds, the corpse sailed over the bay. Then the weight of the anchor dragged it down... down... down. It splashed grandly into the deep aquamarine water. And instantly sank out of sight.
Gabbe wiped his hand. "I think I've just set a record."
That was when Theon got on his face and spat. "You think the underwater king will like it?"
"Chill, cousin." Gabbe put a hand on Theon's shoulder. "I, too, will do anything for Clara. Let's pay a visit to this underwater king, shall we? I can't wait for my cousin to finally wake up."