The Darkening by Sunya Mara

Author:Sunya Mara [Mara, Sunya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2022-04-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

The ground falls away. The wind whipping at my cheeks becomes dryer the higher we climb. We leave the dark and the rain behind, rising into the realm of the sun.

The light is blindingly bright. It paints the insides of my eyelids the red-orange of fire. I turn my head away, but that tucks me further against Dalca’s side, and I’m pretty sure that’s worse. My eyes adjust enough by the time the sandstone ring of the Ven whizzes by. Where are we going?

Dalca’s jaw is squared and tense as he flies us straight to the first ring, to a balcony-studded tower that’s a little set apart from the rest of the frozen-fire palace. I brace for impact as we speed toward a balcony at the very top, but Dalca pulls up with the sort of practiced dexterity that I really ought not to be so surprised by.

My legs take a moment to remember how to carry my weight, long enough for Dalca to open the glass doors that lead to the room beyond. I follow him, blinking against the darkness as my eyes adjust once again. A click sounds behind me as Dalca locks the balcony door.

“Dalca?”

“This part of the palace isn’t frequently visited,” he says.

By which I understand: No one is coming to save you.

“I’ll return when I can.”

“Wait—”

He strides out, an ornate door shutting behind him with a heavy thud. The doorknob—polished metal, carved to look like a tree branch—twists uselessly. It’s locked. The balcony door is locked too—an empty keyhole remains. Dalca must’ve pocketed the key.

I press my forehead to the wood and breathe. Too much rattles around in my head. A bloodless fury makes my skin crawl. Why couldn’t Pa just help us get him out, instead of defaulting to his tortured-and-disappointed-father routine? Why couldn’t Izamal just keep it together for another five minutes? Why couldn’t I get this right?

Under all the anger is a low chill that starts in my toes and pulls me under. I’ve messed up, again. I wanted to save Pa, just like I wanted to save those two fifth-ringers from the stormbeast. All my good intentions come to nothing. They’re not even that good, considering. While I was focused on Pa, Izamal’s been fighting for all the fifth—and who knows what kind of trouble he’s in because of me.

I hope he got away. I’m surprised to find I bear him no ill will. I do wish he hadn’t punched Pa, but I’m sure he wishes I’d told him the truth about the chances of Pa joining his revolution. I used him more than he used me, and regret sits like a stone in my stomach. I hope he’s free. The fifth needs someone who hasn’t given up on them.

And Pa—

I tell myself that Pa’s alive, that the rock prison didn’t suffocate him as I ran away. The Wardana will have saved him, even just so they can put on a show with the Trial. I can’t let myself fall apart and weep like a little helpless child.

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