I nod, fingers curling into Mouse's fur. My shadows twist and stretch around me, already sensing the shift in fate awaiting us.
The next time I cross these walls, I might not come back. The thought should terrify me, but all I feel is a strange sense of inevitability. Like everything since I came to this academy has been leading to this moment.
The Heart warms against my skin, as if in agreement.
Absentia waits.
Chapter 6
Aspen
I catch every wince Kaia tries to hide as she sprawls on the couch, each subtle shift of weight betraying what she refuses to admit. Her shadows move sluggishly around her ankles, even Bob's usually crisp formations wavering like disturbed water. She's been pushing herself beyond breaking, and something in my chest tightens watching her pretend she's fine.
One look at Torric confirms he sees it too. My brother's jaw ticks once, his golden eyes tracking her movements with the same concern twisting in my gut. We don't need words. When you've trained alongside someone for decades, a single glance carries paragraphs.
"Kaia." I keep my voice soft but steady. When she turns, the shadows under her eyes are deeper than the ones curling around her feet. "You need recovery time before tomorrow."
"I'm fine," she starts, but Torric cuts her off with a sharp laugh.
"Like hell you are. Your left side drops every time you breathe, your shoulders are locked, and even Bob looks ready to collapse." He crosses his arms, radiating the stubborn determination that's saved my life more times than I can count. "You're coming with us."
She bristles, violet eyes flashing, that familiar spark that makes my heart beat faster even when it's directed at me. "We don't have time for—"
"Actually," I interrupt, gentling my tone, "your body needs time to rebuild what magic has burned through. Going into Absentia like this would be—" I pause, knowing battle language will resonate more than concern "—tactically unsound."
Torric's lips twitch. He knows exactly what I'm doing, appealing to her practical side rather than trying to force her to rest. It's a strategy we've perfected over years of watching people push themselves to breaking.
"The healing rooms," I continue before she can protest, watching her shadows drift reluctantly toward me like they know what she needs better than she does, "have therapeutic pools specifically designed for magical exhaustion. An hour there would significantly increase your stamina tomorrow."
Her shadows shift restlessly, but I can see her resistance cracking. Patricia actually seems to be taking notes on my argument, her shadowy form bobbing with agreement.
"One hour," she says finally, the words dragging like they cost her.
"Two," Torric counters, his voice brooking no argument. "And that's non-negotiable."
I lead them through the winding corridors to the healing wing, noting how Kaia's steps falter, how she lists slightly to the left when she thinks we aren't watching. Now that she's admitted to needing rest, the full weight of her exhaustion seems to be settling into her bones. Her shadows trail behind like weary soldiers, barely maintaining their forms. Even Steve and Carl, usually bouncing with inappropriate energy, drag behind like sulking children.
The healing rooms are mercifully empty this late. Enchanted crystals cast soft, ambient light across the marble floors, their glow reflecting off the still water in pools set into the stone. Steam rises in gentle curls, carrying the scent of herbs and old magic.
"This one," I say, gesturing to a pool glowing with gentle violet light. "The minerals will help your muscles recover, and the enchantments work specifically with shadow magic."
Torric is already moving, gathering towels and healing salts in his efficient way. We've spent enough time patching each other up that this is familiar territory, caring for someone who'd sooner bleed out than ask for help.
"I can manage on my own," Kaia protests weakly, but her shadows betray her, drifting toward the pool like they're drawn to its healing properties. Bob actually dips what might be a toe in, then visibly relaxes.
"Of course you can," I say, keeping my voice neutral even as my fingers itch to help. "But you don't have to."
Kaia hesitates, her pride warring with exhaustion in the set of her shoulders. Finally, she nods, allowing us to help her toward the pool. Her shadows drift ahead, Bob and Carl testing the water's edge with ghostly tendrils.
"We'll be right outside," Torric says, his gruff tone belying the gentleness with which he hands her a stack of soft towels. "Call if you need anything."
I add a vial of concentrated healing salts to the pile. "A capful every fifteen minutes. They'll amplify the pool's restorative properties."
Kaia manages a tired smile, small but real. "Thank you. Both of you."
We step out, giving her privacy. The moment the door closes, Torric's shoulders drop, composure cracking like ice under pressure.
"She's pushing too hard," he mutters, running a hand through his hair. "At this rate, she'll burn out before we even reach Absentia."
