Cloud Piercer

Six

Killian doesn't show up to class the next day.

I find myself searching for his dark eyes when I slump in my seat, but he isn't there. And three hours later, when we head to the courtyard for a break, he still hasn't shown.

Professor Fin doesn't seem fazed, which I take to be incredibly hypocritical, and only adds to the list of things about Killian that irritates me—what kind of professor's assistant gets no flack for being a no-show?

"Maybe he's trying to get a different job," Jakob suggests, taking a set on one of the benches under the oak tree.

"During the hours of his current job?" Raven asks skeptically.

"Maybe things in Portson are different."

"Doubt it," Cadence adds. "I don't know why he even has one in the first place. He doesn't seem that much older than us. Where are his parents?"

I think of what Killian told me yesterday about why he moved to Veymaw. His father went missing, and he never mentioned anything about his mother, but he kept referring to 'I' and not 'we' when talking about moving here. I can only assume that means he's alone, but I don't say anything as Jakob and Raven continue to theorise his whereabouts. It would be a lie to say I haven't wondered myself.

Browning leaves scatter from the tree above. I gaze up at the sky, the sun is high and warm. "Wanna go lie in the sun?" I whisper to Cadence.

"It's like you read my mind." She hooks her arm through mine and tugs me over to the slightly raised grass patch. We stretch ourselves out across the earth and hike the skirts of our dresses up so our legs are exposed to the sun—something Professor Fin would scold us for if he saw.

"You know, sometimes I think I don't want to finish school," Cadence says, stretching her legs out. The sun shines down on her, turning her maroon dress a brighter shade. "We'll never be this free ever again, Frey."

I hum in agreement, my mind still caught on the same topic as Jakob and Raven. Where is Killian? It's not like there are that many things to do in Veymaw, and unless he fell seriously ill overnight, there are not many excuses our professors accept for not showing to class. I think of what he'd said to me yesterday before Casimir called me inside. He was going to ask something. What?

"Sleep better last night?" Cadence asks.

"Yeah."

I roll over to face her, letting my hair fall over my neck. I don't usually wear my hair down, but the cut on my neck is still there, scabbed over and healing, but visible, nonetheless. I'd managed to hide it from Casimir, but Cadence is much more perceptive than he is.

Just as promised, Casimir camped out in my room last night, dragging his mattress across the hall and practically planting himself in front of the doorway. I could've climbed out the window if I'd wanted, but I didn't. I watched his chest rise and fall as he fell asleep. If I went to the forge, he'd have caught me. But that's not the only thing that kept me glued to the bed. I subconsciously raise my hands to my neck. I could have died. And if I keep looking for the deserters, I still could.

I dreamt of them last night, of the story Killian told us about the deserters in Portson. They'd had their heads cut off, sent to the Palace as evidence. Only in my dream it was me being handed over, my head on a silver platter. Anxiety coils in my stomach.

"Thanks for asking, Cadence, it means a lot." I put my hand over hers. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"Of course." She gives me a funny look. "You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know. You just sound weird." I laugh, leaning back again and staring at the sky. "You want to go to the Tavern after dinner for some cocoa? Just us, no Jakob, I promise."