Falling Skyward

Chapter Forty-Nine: Bruised Souls

Soren had left abruptly the following morning, and tension gathering thickly like a poisonous gas in the confined tunnels. Lana overheard broken phrases from whispered conversations—"multiple casualties," "pursued by nightstalkers," "unable to escape." Everyone in the compound treated her with wariness or outright contempt and evaded her questions like a disease. The only solid answer Lana received was that Taren and Dawson's trial would be held when Soren returned, at the next full moons five weeks away.

Lana's bone-deep exhaustion turned her into a hollow, walking body that moved without thought. Serena put Lana to work in the kitchen and laundry every day, and the hours would unpredictably and surreally slip away in this subterranean world. Every spare moment Lana spent with Gailen. He was eating more and seemed almost content after visits from Tyena, the woman who had brought the soothing herbs in the middle of the night. Tyena and the other conjurers would inspect Gailen every day, trying to learn more about the sinister enchantments the nightstalkers had inflicted on him. Often Tyena would stay late to report their progress to Lana and talk with Gailen, occasionally prodding him into a rare smile.

Lana looked forward to Tyena's visits, but she always felt a twinge of jealousy seeing Tyena do what she could not—make Gailen smile.

Night was the only time Lana had to herself, and yet it was in those moments she wished she could escape herself.

Lana's mind would not allow her to rest. To keep exhausted tears from incapacitating her, Lana spent the nights pouring over books of ruins, searching for some key that might explain everything that was so overwhelming in her life.

There were so many questions and mysteries without even the threadbare beginnings of an answer. How could Lana speak with Askenians and read these ruins without having first learned the language? How had she and the others made it back to the upper world? What had brought her to this world in the first place? Was there something watching Lana? Looking over her? Summoning her?

Looming over all these questions was the foreboding worry: What would become of her, Taren, and Gailen?

So, night after night, Lana poured over books to quiet her mind. The images on the worn pages intuitively made sense to Lana, speaking to that portion of her brain that had been awakened within the nightstalker caves. As she practiced Ce'al and incantations, Lana felt an ease and comfort she had never experienced before—something she kept secret and hidden.

In the darkness, Lana channeled her fear, pain, and rage into raw power. Never again would she feel the helplessness and vulnerability she did when that nightstalker clutched her close, toying with her mind and body. And she would do all in her power to ensure another living soul never had to experience the torture and brokenness she and Gailen felt each day.

One night, while clumsily practicing healing on Gailen, trying to reach the deeper psychological scars ripped into his consciousness, Lana became distracted by a small lump on the floor half-hidden beneath the bed. Lana investigated the shape, discovering the small locked box with ivy designs from her uncle's house. In the chaos of the past few days, Lana had entirely forgotten about the box, which must have fallen from her pocket.

Lana fingered the metal ivy crisscrossing the lock. She rummaged through Drayer's bookshelf and nightstand, finding a metal-tipped quill that had a long and slender point.

The lock was more sophisticated than it looked at first glance, and it took Lana several minutes to unlatch it. If she hadn't been miles beneath ground, the first tendrils of sunlight would have fallen on Lana as she opened the box.

As it was, she had to read the letters by the silvery glow of a conjured light.

Only two letters remained in the box—hers and Gailen's. Lana unfolded the stiff parchment addressed to her cousin: