“
Sounds like a fake name,”
Everleigh scoffed, not sure why now that Strietz had agreed and after the glimpse of vulnerability she had shown him, she felt the need to be as prickly as she first was. Old habits died hard, or maybe with the knowledge of the
letai woman waking up soon, there was that prickle of unease of another attack. Her hand went to her broken rib, throbbing but still numb. She didn’t have long. Soon enough, the pain would seize her and she’d have to fight against herself instead of the guard of
Vel Anir to escape.
Miklan, however, smiled at Dieder as he smiled towards him, warmth building up in his sky blue eyes like a perfect summer’s day. Even grubby and dirty, there was a shine to Miklan that sparkled with a genuine smile to match his eyes. He didn’t notice Everleigh standing awkwardly to the side of them, watching the two of them with a look of suspicion that almost hid a motherly yearning.
There was a part of her that wanted to go and take Miklan in her arms one last time, to hold him close and tight as if the goal were to strangle him or break his ribs. She did no such thing. Instead, she stared, committing this to memory, reminding herself she’d see him in
Alliria, better than he was now.
A little voice reminded her that she might not make it time— or worse, she would never make it to Alliria at all. Everleigh knew this voice, it had been her best friend at the academy, a heavy hand that belonged to a much greater force that weighed her mind and soul. She had fought against it then, she’d fight against it now.
Success was her only option, survival her only goal— failure, and death, were not. Wordlessly, with heavy boots and a yet still a heavier heart, Everleigh left the Lucky Star, knowing that all of them would need more than just a lucky break.