Chapter Twenty-One

Later that night, I sat in the parlor with Jaren and Miss Mylda while he explained to her the situation. Occasionally, I nodded or murmured my agreement, but most of the time I wasn't even listening. My mind was elsewhere, hooked and trapped on the words Firhetya had said.

I'd been cursed by the child of a murderer. Laveen Merenais had most likely lost her mind sometime after leaving Azareba. Otherwise, why would she have done what she did? Even Miss Mylda looked somewhat shaken over the idea of Laveen Merenais' successor being the book's curser, which only served to feed the fears itching at the back of my mind. I stood abruptly when Evyne entered the room later wearing nightclothes and jumped on the opportunity to leave, claiming to get ready for bed.

Once out in the hallway, though, I found myself running. Dread pulled my chest taut from the building realizations of Firhetya's words and I found it hard to breath. What would it take to rid myself of this curse? Why had it been placed on me at all? I mean, who curses people they don't even know? I turned a corner and slammed head-on into someone, knocking both of us to the ground with an incredibly loud thud in the otherwise silent hall.

"Ow! What the—? Veia?" Atlas squinted up at me, blinking a few times as he gained his senses. He clutched his newly bandaged arm tenderly.

"Atlas?" Oh, holy curses. The thoughts of Firhetya were instantly banished. "Are you okay? What are you doing here?" Why did I sound like I was about to cry? Did I always have to cry in front of Atlas? I hoped he wouldn't notice the heat rising up my face.

"What am I—? You're the one who ran into me! And I'm just ducky, thanks." He hesitated, looking at me more closely. "Are you okay, though? You look like someone's after you."

"What? Oh, no, I just..." I looked down, noticing for the first time that I was on top of Atlas, a tangle of limbs and skirts and fabric...

I was on top of Atlas.

Letting out a short cry, I thrust myself to my feet and wobbled around a bit, mortified. I tripped, then, and almost fell over my skirt again if not for Atlas, who jumped up and caught me, managing the feat one-handed. Not again with him catching me! Why was I like this?

Atlas looked as surprised as I felt, a tinge of worry creasing his brow. "Veia, what—"

"I just... don't ask, okay? I'm perfectly fine." My voice snapped with panic, my thoughts a frenzy of actions and reactions and very little actual consideration of my surroundings.

Atlas closed his mouth, looking shocked at my outburst, and nodded. "I won't ask, then."

Oh. I had shut him down, hadn't I? Guilt washed over me in a cold wave and before I realized it, I had reached forward and grabbed Atlas' sleeve, causing him to startle.

"No, actually," I sucked in a shaky breath and released it. "Talking to someone... would be nice."

I stared down at his sling, feeling like a child as he stared back at me with his perfect, crystalline eyes. It was as if he were trying to figure out how it was possible for a person to panic and break down and mess up as badly as I did. Shame followed the guilt and I felt a lot like crying again, but I didn't. I'd made that mistake once before.

Atlas took my hand suddenly and began leading me down the twisting hallways. He didn't say anything and I didn't trust myself enough to speak, so the only sound was of our footsteps on the wooden floors.

We made our way up the stairs as if led by an invisible map, through three or four more hallways, past a sketchy-looking room covered in runes, and straight through a door on the left.

I yelped as we were enveloped in blackness as thick as tar, but I didn't pull away from Atlas' grip on my hand until he let go, at which point I dropped into a panic again. I couldn't see Atlas. I couldn't see myself. I didn't know where we were. Was this a cursed room? I breathed heavily.

Until a soft light started from a few feet in front of me. Atlas lit a lamp, struggling to do so with only his non-dominant hand, and bathed the rest of the room in a warm glow. I looked around.

It reminded me of my cottage back home. A simple desk with a candle, and a single bed against the far wall. Atlas held the lamp up and hung it on the wall, then turned to me with a smile.

Wait. A bed?

And Atlas?

"Uh..." I backed up, feeling the walls around me until I accidentally pushed the door shut with my shoulder. Panic flooded me and I drew a complete blank. Of all times not to come up with some clever plan!

Atlas took a step forward casually and my eyes widened. Nope, nope, nope, nope, nu-uh. I swiveled around and clutched the door handle, but it was jammed. The confounded rusty knob!

"Veia?" I turned to see Atlas giving me another worried look. "What's the matter?" He stared at me a moment longer before his eyes widened and he seemed to realize what I was thinking. "Oh, no, uhh..." His face went beet red and he scrambled to take the lamp off the wall again. "You know what, how about we go into the hallway? That'd be better, wouldn't it?"

The room grew silent, both of us staring at each other over a four foot distance and looking as if we'd seen a ghost. Finally, I found the words in my throat and they came out almost inaudible and terribly squeaky. "That... yes, of course."

He nodded, face still aflame, then cleared his throat and turned away. I saw him cringe from the corner of my eye, muttering something like a reprimand to himself. As my instincts subsided, a small smile itched at the edge of my mouth. This situation would be almost laughable if I weren't still trying to slow my racing heart.

And it hadn't occurred to him that bringing a girl to his bedroom wasn't in the least suspicious? I huffed incredulously as I tried working the doorknob open. The tall, handsome, perfect Atlas was actually entirely and hopelessly oblivious. Knowing that unwound some of the panic of being so near him. I let out a breath as the door gave.

Stepping out into the hall with Atlas close behind, we sat next to the doorway and he put the lamp on the floor in front of us. It gave the rest of the hallway an eerie fade into perpetual darkness, but I was glad it gave me something to look at other than Atlas, who probably didn't want me looking at him either.

"So..." I took another long breath. "Just listen. You don't need to say anything, but... listen. Earlier, Jaren and I went to visit a dark magician named Firhetya, as you might recall."

He nodded. "I—"

"Don't talk." I watched as he clamped his mouth shut, blushing again, then I continued. "Firhetya told us that he couldn't undo the curse because it was the magic of a woman named Laveen Merenais, who murdered her husband and died herself while transferring her magic to her child several years ago. That means her child has inherited her magic, survived this whole time, and given a cursed book to me. But why me? Esterwilde is a town strictly against the use of magic, so why would a magician come simply to curse me?" I sighed and leaned back against the wall. "I just don't know why all of this happened and it seems to be getting harder and harder to fix. Is a solution even possible? I mean, what if the successor is dead? Would we just have to wait until the book fills itself up and kills who knows how many people in the meantime?

"You probably think this is crazy, but now that I've been to the City of Magic, I don't don't even know if my hometown will take me back. It just seems like the life I've worked so hard to get to has been torn away from me and the chances of getting it back are growing slimmer and slimmer every day. Will things ever be the same, even if we do manage to break the curse?" I stared down at the lamp as the silence reclaimed the hallway, then finally looked at Atlas.

His expression was unreadable. I'd seen it on him before, when facing down an enemy or taking hard news, but this time it seemed different. He met my eyes. "I know you don't want my opinion, but I think Esterwilde is awful for you."

I opened my mouth, but didn't speak. I didn't know what to say.

"I know your family is there, but to me, it doesn't seem like the townspeople respect you as much as you deserve. From what I've seen, they weren't mean to you, but did you have any friends? You haven't mentioned any the whole trip. You always worked for what you got, sure, but is that really all you want in life? To survive?"

What?... To survive? Somewhere inside me, an emotion twitched and writhed at his words. How could he have thought I'd done all of that just to survive? I searched his face for any hints that he was joking—he had to be. I inhaled shakily and calmed myself. "I don't have family in Esterwilde, Atlas. The Pheldes were my adopted family, and they all died eight years ago. I live alone, with no neighbors, out in the middle of the woods. But my whole life is in that town, and it's all I've ever known. To me, Esterwilde is where I return to. It's my home."

He blinked, surprised, then, slowly, his expression became unreadable again, almost sorrowful. He lifted his hand up, raking it through his dark hair and leaning back against the wall. We both sat there for a moment while I tried to collect my emotions and Atlas gazed up at the ceiling thoughtfully. When he suddenly turned to me and took my hand, I jumped and glanced at his face only to see his striking blue eyes staring into my own with resolve.

"Veia, live with me and Evyne. Let's make a new home where you don't have to be alone. You'll never have to be alone again, if you don't want to." He must have seen my stricken face, for he continued, his voice almost pleading.

"Just because you've lived somewhere doesn't make it your home, Veia. My home is not on the streets where I grew up, nor is it with my father, who abandoned my mother, or with my mother, who abandoned me. My home is with the people I love. It's not a place, it's a feeling, and... and I want you to be a part of my home, Veia."

I searched his eyes, but there was no lie. There was no joke. No smile. But how could he be serious? How could he ask me to give up Esterwilde? My life? How could he ask me to just leave it behind? The emotion in my stomach—anger, I realized—swelled and agitated. I had lived my whole life there. It was the one thing for me that had never changed, and yet he's the reason I had to leave it in the first place. Now he somehow had the idea to suggest I never return to the one place that had housed me my entire life?

Atlas searched my eyes as well, hoping—yearning—for my response. He was so sincere it made fury spark through my body and I looked down at his hand, still holding mine.

"My family lived in Esterwilde, and my family died in Esterwilde. The only life I've ever had has been there, and you're actually asking me not to return to it? Atlas, I already have a home, and it doesn't involve these awful questions you make me ask myself. It doesn't involve this ache in my heart. It doesn't involve you."

And with those terrible words, I took my hand from his and ran into the darkness.